Collected Musings on a Random Day

The study week and exam week leave very little room for stray thoughts for normal people, but my family thinks I'm weird anyway. So there I was sitting in the school Kopitiam, full and contented. The cleaner shuffles into my line of sight, asks one of the people sitting with me whether she's done with her meal so that he can clear her plate. She nods an assent and he quietly picks up the stray tissue paper, places the empty Coke can on the plate and gives the table a cursory wipe. Something he probably does all day long. The faces change, the colours on the plate change, but his actions remain the same.

I watched the cleaner as he dumped the contents of the plate into the bin, stacks the plate along with the other soiled dishes and goes about looking for the next plate to clear. His face is lined; it is expected as he probably isn't young anymore. The first thing that strikes me is how he seems indifferent about his job. Other fringe thoughts pop up while I go down this train of thought, so I'll keep it simple by talking about this fascinating cleaner first.

I remember my time in S1 Branch as the RnD clerk. I started my work there willing to learn everything my upperstudy was willing to (and actually remembered how to) teach me. Handling bottles of urine didn't bother me. It was part of my job. Doing up charge report after charge report didn't bother me. Oh how quickly that mindset changed. When the "routine" fell into place, other things began popping up. "Special" disciplinary actions which my upperstudy wasn't too clear about. "Special arrows" from officers who think that clerks are too free. Soon, the job wasn't about deriving satisfaction from servicing the battalion as a clerk. It was no longer about giving the utmost attention so that you could present the officer with a nicely done report. It became a matter of efficiency. Bullocks to the perfection, what everyone wanted from the clerks are jobs done ASAP. Was the same happening to the cleaner? Was he enthusiastic and gungho when he first started? Did he smile more often and cheerfully cleaned the tables? Has efficiency taken out the human touch from things that we do?

Subsidiary points include why he's still clearing tables when he looks like he could be enjoying life at his age. Is he bored of staying at home? Does he derive satisfaction from clearing tables? Is the nominal pay much better than sitting on a rocking chair? Or is the situation a lot sadder? Does he have kids to support him? Are they supporting him? How does he feel clearing the tables in a Kopitiam in university? I mean, all around him are students in an institute of higher learning, future movers and shakers. And there he is, coming from the same generation that brought Singapore its founding fathers, clearing tables. How are we compared to them? Are we really becoming more apathic? Are our manners really deteriorating? Are you excited that you are mingling with people who might eventually become CEOs, Members of Parliament or the like? Or are you just looking out for the next plate, doing your job?

I remember doing up practice paper after practice paper preparing for my PSLE exams. One day, while doing a paper, I heard the Karang Guni man announce his presense downstairs. This was something I had heard week after week, all my years I had stayed there. But this time was different. Somehow, that same shout of "Karang Guni" seemed to be saying "study hard or you will end up like me, living the hard life." I told my parents about it that night, to which they smiled knowingly. My wild imagination could be helpful at times, they must have been thinking. I did work hard for my PSLE and later on for my O levels. The Karang Guni man now rarely shouts.

What do all these stories have in common? I have no idea. But well, a lesson gleaned, no matter the circumstances, is still a lesson worth learning. -Jimmy