In the past few days, I have developed a new fear – of old age. I’d want to bid farewell at not too old an age I think. And the reason for this is not because I’m afraid of losing beauty, youth, drive, etc. but simply because every morning as I come up the escalator from the underpass, there is an old gray haired Chinese uncle giving out leaflets about some firm selling cheap-refillable printer ink cartridges. There is nothing wrong in that – might I add. Except that he’s old and hunched and should be in the comforts of a home at that hour of the morning, instead of at that hot, air-less underpass tunnel. It breaks my heart everyday and yet I’m pathetic enough to not do anything about it. It breaks my heart, nonetheless. Then there is the other uncle at the mall near my house, also on his feet, giving out pamphlets and saying “50% discount” to every passerby. Lots of people just brush him away and quickly walk past; some don’t even acknowledge his presence. These are the two uncles I meet everyday, one who seems in his early fifties and the other, in early sixties. Then there are the aunties – one who I rarely see now, but would be walking around the covered walkway outside the mall, selling colorful pens from an old ragged bag. I hang my head and walk past sometimes, others, I smile at her. At the Orchard underpass, there will be another old Chinese lady in flannel pajamas with a small mat set up selling knick-knacks like packets of tissue, instant noodles, small packs of detergent, etc. I don’t know if people ever buy anything from her, but she’s there every time I walk that underpass.

No, I have not done anything about these people because I feel bad about it for sometime and then get caught up in the mundane, money-making activities of the day and pay them bills. I am guilty of being just as materialistic as anyone. Yet, for the next 5-10 mins after I pass this uncle or aunti, I can’t face myself, or any of the affluent, fast walking people around me. one of these days, I hope I’ll resolve to actually do something.

In a way it’s a positive thing to see old people working, carrying their dignity in their hands, and earning a living. In a way, it is dignified – for they are not helpless, they are independent and working despite their age, or the nature of the “job.” I have in my life, handed out flyers once as part of some school activity and it was not a pleasant experience to be standing on your feet all day and being invisible to so many people in the middle of a crowd – when people just walk past you, walk through you. I salute my old uncles and auntis who still manage to smile back at you after doing this all day.

However, I do wonder if they deserve better. One works hard their whole life and deserves a break in their last few years. I wonder what each of their stories are – and why, if at all, they chose to continue working. If the uncle or aunty clearing leftovers and dishes at a hawker center really deserves to do that after 60 long hard years.

With everything else so perfectly oiled and functioning here, isn’t it time something was done about the elderly here? I do but wonder – and hope that one day I’ll find the courage to stop wondering and start doing something.