Buy A Book
Disclaimer: This is so not a bimbo post. The first two paragraphs only offer the silly background to an interesting re-encounter. You shall be duly rewarded with a moral at the end of it even though the existence of morals are truly suspect, and we should be renaming any such related or associated entities as principles for a less antagonistic reaction from meta-morals/moral philosophy critics like myself.
Last evening, I was hurrying towards the MRT after a bout of very quick shopping - grab and go that Esprit embroidered suede brown tote bag I have been eyeballing close to one month: the catalyst was my dinner date tonight and I needed this bag to complete the outfit I am planning to wear (it’s raining men again, but I’m sure the three of them are gonna be oblivious to the loveliness of my new bag).
I do know that I should be getting a small gift for Eric instead, since his birthday falls on Thursday and I am meeting him, YQ and Ryan today. And he knows I know. Ewww…expectations (even though he has very nicely declined to “celebrate” and declared he just wanted to hang out to YQ – which is so not true a week ago – he said to me to buy a cake and sing birthday song?!). Whatever.
And so I was hurrying from Raffles City and fretting about the to-buy-or-not-to-buy-but-what-in-the-world-to-buy when I saw a familiar figure and his trusty companion. What the hell is he doing hawking his books on the eve of Deepavali!
I didn’t even pause to think. Just marched up determinedly to him, picked one book and said very respectfully:
Hi sir, I am going to buy this book for a friend. It’s a birthday gift to augment his understanding of local political history. If you don’t mind, do you think you could sign on it? It will mean such a big thing.
He was very nice, and very warm, and very pleased, actually, I like to think.
So we chatted for a while, and I mentioned that I just saw his son, who lost a friendly debate to my profession, verified that that is indeed his blog (he crinkled again and exclaimed: you know about my blog!?), plus revealing a bit of what I do when he asked.
Small disclaimer here if web police are trawling: I'm no fan nor supporter. I'm Woman & Myself - DO NOT attempt to objectify and pigeonhole me in gross terms that are non-sexual and asexual ie unsexy. If anything here is deemed political, it is because the writings are introspective and ridiculously personal. If that makes no sense to you, you should obviously study feminist movements, or read at least this to increase your social awareness of issues that are still afflicting us beyond gender. I guess we all need to speak up or blog to understand that it is a collective thing we have here. And silence doesn't help at all.
Before I left, I felt it my mission to chasten him:
Sir, whatever are you doing here on a festive season? Please go home and rest. I wish you the best.
He’s such a gentle gentleman, as far as appearances go. Frail and steely. Shook my hand three times during the course of our conversation.
Please, people, next time you see him on the streets, don’t hesitate. Buy a book from him. Talk to him. I have bought from him on three separate occasions. He shouldn’t be spending his days in such an undignified fashion at his age.
I will talk to him again even if I don’t buy, just to make a fellow Singaporean’s day.
He made mine. Though I hope I wasn’t “exploiting” him to sign for my friend (I can’t dispel the nagging doubt I could be).
*
Dear Eric
Happy B’day
JB Jeyaretnam 31 Oct ‘05
Will this do? Is this fine? He asked most humbly.
I was a little stunned. Of course it will do. Perfect. Thank you so much, I said sincerely. It means a lot.
*
During heydays as undergraduates, Mr Veins always liked to scare me by reminding that there are hidden cameras to film those who buy and probably any conversations that took place as well. I feigned mock terror. But seriously, at the end of the day, I’m not doing anything bad. I’m just trying to ratchet up a fellow citizen’s happiness. If I can afford $20 and this would go some way to contribute to the emotional welfare of another, I say it is money well-spent.
Last evening, I was hurrying towards the MRT after a bout of very quick shopping - grab and go that Esprit embroidered suede brown tote bag I have been eyeballing close to one month: the catalyst was my dinner date tonight and I needed this bag to complete the outfit I am planning to wear (it’s raining men again, but I’m sure the three of them are gonna be oblivious to the loveliness of my new bag).
I do know that I should be getting a small gift for Eric instead, since his birthday falls on Thursday and I am meeting him, YQ and Ryan today. And he knows I know. Ewww…expectations (even though he has very nicely declined to “celebrate” and declared he just wanted to hang out to YQ – which is so not true a week ago – he said to me to buy a cake and sing birthday song?!). Whatever.
And so I was hurrying from Raffles City and fretting about the to-buy-or-not-to-buy-but-what-in-the-world-to-buy when I saw a familiar figure and his trusty companion. What the hell is he doing hawking his books on the eve of Deepavali!
I didn’t even pause to think. Just marched up determinedly to him, picked one book and said very respectfully:
Hi sir, I am going to buy this book for a friend. It’s a birthday gift to augment his understanding of local political history. If you don’t mind, do you think you could sign on it? It will mean such a big thing.
He was very nice, and very warm, and very pleased, actually, I like to think.
So we chatted for a while, and I mentioned that I just saw his son, who lost a friendly debate to my profession, verified that that is indeed his blog (he crinkled again and exclaimed: you know about my blog!?), plus revealing a bit of what I do when he asked.
Small disclaimer here if web police are trawling: I'm no fan nor supporter. I'm Woman & Myself - DO NOT attempt to objectify and pigeonhole me in gross terms that are non-sexual and asexual ie unsexy. If anything here is deemed political, it is because the writings are introspective and ridiculously personal. If that makes no sense to you, you should obviously study feminist movements, or read at least this to increase your social awareness of issues that are still afflicting us beyond gender. I guess we all need to speak up or blog to understand that it is a collective thing we have here. And silence doesn't help at all.
Before I left, I felt it my mission to chasten him:
Sir, whatever are you doing here on a festive season? Please go home and rest. I wish you the best.
He’s such a gentle gentleman, as far as appearances go. Frail and steely. Shook my hand three times during the course of our conversation.
Please, people, next time you see him on the streets, don’t hesitate. Buy a book from him. Talk to him. I have bought from him on three separate occasions. He shouldn’t be spending his days in such an undignified fashion at his age.
I will talk to him again even if I don’t buy, just to make a fellow Singaporean’s day.
He made mine. Though I hope I wasn’t “exploiting” him to sign for my friend (I can’t dispel the nagging doubt I could be).
*
Dear Eric
Happy B’day
JB Jeyaretnam 31 Oct ‘05
Will this do? Is this fine? He asked most humbly.
I was a little stunned. Of course it will do. Perfect. Thank you so much, I said sincerely. It means a lot.
*
During heydays as undergraduates, Mr Veins always liked to scare me by reminding that there are hidden cameras to film those who buy and probably any conversations that took place as well. I feigned mock terror. But seriously, at the end of the day, I’m not doing anything bad. I’m just trying to ratchet up a fellow citizen’s happiness. If I can afford $20 and this would go some way to contribute to the emotional welfare of another, I say it is money well-spent.
2 Comments:
hello, i followed you here from mr.wang's post. that was a very nice read, and there was just something in the recounting of your experience with the guy that made it so. for want of a better word, it was really pretty... humanising, and i'll remember this post the next time i walk past the man.
Thanks for sharing that my post did make a difference to perceptions. I'm sure feeling sorry for him is the last thing he wants, or needs. But somehow i feel very bad everytime I walk past him.
Everyone else just pretends he is the invisible man.
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