Stalemate

Today's my last day of leave before i resume my National Service and it also marks the official suspension of me being a regular back to NSF. My rank would now be reverted back to Private and there goes my single white strap which i have been carrying on my shoulders for close to 3 months. It wasn't a case of how much i can't bear to lose my Officer Cadet rank, it was case of how much i missed my days as a pilot trainee.

Been sitting around home for the past few days and every morning i woke up thinking what to do next. Not exactly what should i do for the rest of the day, but it's more like what would my life be next after my National Service. Even before that, what's my new posting be? OCS or SISPEC? Do i still have what it takes to survive in the gruesome trainings ahead?

I managed to meet up with my close buddies from my secondary days last Saturday after many months of bare minimal contact. We are still pretty much the same childish bunch who still goes LAN gaming, knock some pool balls, gossip about gals and thinking of ways to be rich and such. But of course, we have grown out of being totally immersed into just having fun all day round.

Derrick has applied for NTU's Bachelor of Business for this year university application after some serious thoughts, Eugene has been into shares and in hunt for sponsors for his degree in time to come, Soon tat has of cause got himself a girlfriend and seems to be enjoying most of what he have at the moment. So now's the question of how about me myself?

In 3 months time, i'll be celebrating my adulthood with my 21st birthday, and i reckon it's high time for me to get down to some serious business. For me right now, i think i need to sort out what i really want to do for my degree and start working towards it.

I had a short conversation with my ex yesterday, and i asked her about life in university, in particular to NUS and what's the general trend of courses most take up. She was advising me to stick to my not-so-interesting Computing instead of Business or even Psychology. I was contemplating whether i should do something i'll be more interested doing it or stick to the old-tradition saying of, "go back to where your roots were" and that literally means going back to my IT specialization.

I was chatting with a friend of mine yesterday as well and was happy for her after hearing that she will be going into NIE soon and be a primary school teacher in no time. Somehow it's not difficult to see that she does enjoy being a tutor for a start, thus my gut feeling tells me that she would be into teaching line, it's just a shame that she couldn't be a secondary teacher with the rules imposed by the not-so-flexible NIE with regards to her current degree.

I'm not sure how much she really wants to be a teacher, but one thing for sure, she started with a wrong foot too. So maybe just maybe, i shouldn't be too bothered by whether my choice would ultimately be the best, for that at the end of the day, i'll still end up the same place. It's just a matter of how long or how tough the path i chose turns out to be.

As you guys can see, one of my course mate over at Tamworth left me a tag this morning, and sad to say he didn't make it as well. Seriously if i'm him, probably i'll be quite devastated for that he's already into his 11th sortie. Not that he isn't good enough nor that he ain't sad at all, i bet he did his best and for that he would have no regrets about it. (To Jeremy: Seems like DL will have to give the 3 of us a good treat when you guys are back and for that, this Malay here demand Halal fine dining. Make that a good feast before we blend in with the forest once again.)

I think some of my friends are still not sure if i'm back to Singapore. So if you happen to read up to here, just note that as you're reading this right now, i'm probably sitting or lazing around some corners of Singapore.

Last note before i wrap this up, here's a story i read it from my friend's blog. It meant quite a lot for me, so carry on reading if you can. Enjoy.


Twenty years ago, I drove a cab for a living.

When I arrived at 2:30 a.m., the building was dark except for a single light in a ground floor window. Under these circumstances, many drivers would just honk once or twice, wait a minute and then drive away. But, I had seen too many impoverished people who depended on taxis as their only means of transportation. Unless a situation smelled of danger, I always went to the door. This passenger might be someone who needs my assistance, I reasoned to myself. So I walked to the door and knocked.

"Just a minute", answered a frail, elderly voice.

I could hear something being dragged across the floor. After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 80's stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940s movie. By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets. There were no clocks on the walls, no knick knacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and glassware.

"Would you carry my bag out to the car?" she said.

I took the suitcase to the cab, and then returned to assist the woman. She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb. She kept thanking me for my kindness.

"It's nothing", I told her.
''I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother treated".
"Oh, you're such a good boy", she said.

When we got in the cab, she gave me an address, then asked, "Could you drive through downtown?"
"It's not the shortest way," I answered quickly.
"Oh, I don't mind," she said. "I'm in no hurry. I'm on my way to a hospice".

I looked in the rear-view mirror. Her eyes were glistening.
"I don't have any family left," she continued.
"The doctor says I don't have very long." I quietly reached over and shut off the meter.
"What route would you like me to take?" I asked.

For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator. We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds. She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl. Sometimes she'd ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing. As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said,
"I'm tired. Let's go now."

We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico. Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move. They must have been expecting her. I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.

"How much do I owe you?" she asked, reaching into her purse. "Nothing," I said. "You have to make a living," she answered. "There are other passengers," I responded.

Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug. She held onto me tightly.

"You gave an old woman a little moment of joy," she said. "Thank you." I squeezed her hand, and then walked into the dim morning light.

Behind me, a door shut. It was the sound of the closing of a life. I didn't pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly lost in thought. For the rest of that day, I could hardly talk. What if that woman had gotten an angry driver, or one who was impatient to end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away? On a quick review, I don't think that I have done anything more important in my life.

We're conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments. But great moments often catch us unaware-beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.

Life may not be the party we hoped for, but while we are here we might as well dance. Every morning when I open my eyes, I tell myself that it is special. Every day, every minute, every breath truly is a gift from God.