Past blog entry: Who's complaining?

Recently, I had the luxury of time (and much boredom) to review my former blog's posts from my archives. Reading through some of them brought out a chuckle or two, and other times, much nostalgia and sadness.

I would like to re-publish some of my favourite posts onto this blog. I hope you will enjoy reading them as much as I enjoyed penning them.

This following post was written while I was still working in my previous job, drawing a decent and comfortable paycheck, shuttering between cubicles squeezing numbers out on sheets of paper and basically doing worthless work.

***********************************************

April 16, 2006

Who's Complaining?

Barely a week ago, I was dazzled by the success of my peers.

Seemingly effortlessly, these young men and women were making tons of money, more in a year than in ten of mine. Oh, someone's just bought a million dollar condominium in a swanky part of town, even before he hits 30. Oh, someone owns a car even if its just to drive to office and home. Oh, someone gets the chance to travel to exotic places in the US and Europe and making big bucks along the way and enjoying it. Me? Stuck in a 8 to 5 job that doesn't seem to have much career prospects in my personal development. I was even contemplating switching careers.

Today I was brought to earth soundly, with a loud THUD no less. It followed a rare outing with Mom to the market. You see, normally my parents attend church in the evenings of Saturday while I would attend mass on Sunday morning. Trivial as it is, I insist the choir is better on Sunday mornings. And today is special. Why? Because it is Easter Sunday. It is the day that Christ rises from the dead in the tomb to return to God. That makes it special.

So, following mass, I tagged Mom to the market while Dad, feeling a tsunami in the bowels, rushed home to the toilets. It's been a long while since I stepped into a market. Unlike many young Singaporeans, I'm not turned off by the smell of pork, fish, vegetables and I do not squirm over the wet floor.

Mom went to her favourite fishmonger, an auntie in her 50s. She's been here like forever, since the days we stayed at Haig Road. I've known her since I was small, and I still see her now, so it has been a long time really. This feisty little auntie has been providing the fresh fish on my family table, and I was privileged enough today to witness part of the process. Mom and her are best of friends, the relationship between them clearly the epitome of the demand-supply chain. One doesn't bargain, the other doesn't begrudge her access to the day's freshest fish and prawns; sometimes a lack of loose change is waivered, and other days more is given. How do I know? Well, Mom has been telling us their exploits in the market for as long as I know.

It was with much sadness to hear that the giant supermarket chain, Sheng Siong, is reducing the market people's incomes. Fox Books versus the little Shop by the Corner. And despite the dwindling income, this feisty auntie is keeping it going despite her being of reasonable retirement age. Her husband is no longer around, having been lost to a careless car driver years ago. Her son, a decent chap, is a hardworking fellow in a worldwide supply chain company and helps out at the stall every weekend. Her eldest daughter is married, her 2nd daughter is autistic. The brave auntie has been bringing up her family single-handedly with a meagre income. To add to that, she had to go for an operation lately to (put it simply) repair her hands, while had been damaged by years of chopping and grinding.

As I look at her, I could see a faint smile coming over her while she chopped away at the orders, piny hands no less. She only took pauses to look at my mom and exchange banter, things like 'Son's grown up, you can take it easy now' and 'there were three of them, two were bought already, the last is reserved for you' and 'poor workers have no money to buy better fish and settled for something poorer'. Life never seems to be short of anything, definitely not happiness.

Suddenly I feel contented. I feel guilty even, for receiving a decently fat paycheck without having to wake up early, work entire days and sleeping minimally. I no longer feel my job pays poorly. I have been truly humbled. A walk in the market can sure open my eyes to the simple things of the world.

Indeed, the most important thing in life is health and to stay happy.

The million dollar people can sod off to their Tatler glitz covers, Manolo Blahniks and Botox. I care not.