Beep….I tagged
out from the office.
Another
busy day. I carried my laptop bag on my back and gym bag on my left shoulder.
As I walked
pass the glass doors of other offices in the same floor, I can’t help but feel
like I look like a homeless person with all these bags everywhere around me.
I looked at
my watch and it shows 6.05pm. Peanut butter, milk powder and fruits.
These are
the things I have to buy before going home.
The monorel
came. During 6pm peak hour hustling to get into the train is inevitable and
ALWAYS there are people blocking the entrance.
Maybe they
are just afraid that if they move aside, they would die. I did what I had to
do: Hit some of them with my bags and moved further into the train to secure a
comfortable place. Saw a guy wearing tight slacks and he had muscular butt……………but
we are not going to talk about that. This is not a thirsty post. Maybe the next
one.
As I got
down at KL Sentral, and thinking about what to eat, I saw some people waiting
at the escalator. They were begging. Some had a basket filled with tissues. I
assume the try to sell something in exchange to those tissues, basically a more
decent form of begging.
One of them
was on a wheelchair. Every time I pass by them, I try to contribute some money.
Maybe a ringgit or two if I have them. On the days that I don’t, I tell myself maybe
tomorrow.
Here’s the
thing: I believe that even a ringgit donated sincerely, would benefit them.
Everytime I
pass them by, I can’t help but to ask myself: What could have been their story?
How did they end up on the streets? It must have been really tough for them.
Maybe they used to be a businessperson who was doing well and then their
business went bankrupt. Maybe their kids grew up and ditched them. Perhaps, at one
point, they too were working in offices and they take train and sometimes wear
slacks, enhancing their muscular butts.
More often
than not, their baskets would be empty, as in there is no money in it. Tissues
are there, just no money.
Never once,
it occurred to me to take a packet of tissue from the basket. For me, I was
doing my good did for the day. To empathise and do my part to make the world a little
better.
As I got my
groceries and was going back to my car, I saw these beggars again near the
escalator and face lit up. I was enthused. I was breathing the motivated
breath. I skippity skipped towards them.
The bounce
in my steps, the aura of an angel, the expression on my face: a mixture of satisfaction
and smiling ear to ear………I was READY. Ready to take some change, put it in their
basket, gentle tap on their hand and say: This too shall pass. One day, you are
going to look back and remember that this is your lowest point. Things will
only get better from here.
As I skippity
skipped towards them, by eye brows frowned, my steps slowed down and I was
taken by surprise. The lady sitting on the wheelchair took out her ginormous phone.
This wasn’t
any ordinary ginormous phone. It had a screen bigger than my own phone. So she
took her phone out, answered the call and put it back where no one could see
it.
Then, it hit
me. While I was giving them money all these while, never once have I noticed
them to be dirty. They do not look like they skipped a meal too. Don’t get me
wrong, there are beggers in Brickfields who are homeless, dirty and sleep on
the pavements.
However,
the ones that I have been giving money too are not one of those.
Then I recalled
another incident flashing through my mind.
Many years
ago, while I was picking up my laundry and chatting with the shop keeper, there
was an elderly lady who came into the shop and said to me: I feel really hungry,
could you give me some money so that I can buy something to eat. Me being all
concerned and sorry for her, took the wallet out.
As universe
would have it, I didn’t have any small change. Since she was elderly and hungry
there was this uncontrollable need to become the saviour and ease her pain. I handed
to her a 5 ringgit note.
This
cunning ass woman on the other hand, saw a 10 ringgit and 20 ringgit notes in
my wallet and had the audacity to tell me: Why don’t you take this 5 ringgit
back, and give me the 10 instead?. What can I do with this 5 ringgit.
Did this
woman just shit on my face??
I couldn’t comprehend
for a moment what just happened. The shopkeeper and I exchanged glances. I
could see that the shopkeeper had a faint smile at the corner of her mouth.
Then it hit
me: THIS WOMAN, IS A SCAMMER.
This is
what she does. She asks people money, pretending to be hungry.
I must have
gotten a little pissed off.
I told her:
Aunty, you can take this 5 ringgit if you want, otherwise you can just leave. I
am not going to give you 10 ringgit.
She looked
at me, made shit face, took the money and left. Without even a thank you.
Coming back
to the KL Sentral beggar situation, where do we draw the boundary between
lending a helping hand, listening ear and empathizing people?.
Do they even
need our help, or is it something embedded in our DNA? Well, in my DNA??
Where does
this uncontrollable need to be people’s saviour come from? Could it be the way
that I grew up that I feel like I HAVE to be the person who picks up after everybody’s
problem, because if I don’t everything goes to hell?
Was there
even the need to do so? Maybe everyone is perfectly capable of resolving their
own problems. Due to my own DNA fault I put my head into other people's
assholes.
Do people
really just keep quiet when they are offered help, even if they don’t need it?.
I am sure
there are times when we ….. not we I am told that well, no one asked you to
help. You volunteered. Well, if I didn’t no one would have done it and it would
have been a shit storm.
Why is
there the need for me to become superman and dive in to help people?
I remember
reading somewhere, if you tolerate shit long enough, you start to normalize it,
and that shit is ok. Well shit is not ok.
People say that
no good deed goes unpunished.
I say, if
someone does not ask you to help them and you do it anyways, there is no value
to the help that you extended.
Not only
would it not be appreciated, you could be possibly be smothering people by your
constant attention, care and empathy.
I don’t want
to be a Superman. I want to wear my undies inside. I just don’t know how. I
cant draw the boundaries for the people I care about. Maybe the problem is that
I care too much too quickly.
Google: How
to not care unnecessarily???
