A bit of everything

"How are you doing, Freddie?"

"Huh, me?", he was a little startled and turned back to see the roadside paper vendor waving to him. He waved back, without a word. He could have given a smile, but with tough times like these, smiles were quite an effort or dipped so much in sarcasm that it din't make sense.

People around him knew Freddie for as long as they could remember. He was there at the coffee shop every morning. Well, at lease outside it and thinking hard about the small fortune he had to spend for the only meal in his day. He was always ready to do any odd jobs that people had to offer him. "Will you fix this sign board to my shop, Freddie?", "Can you carry these furniture to my flat on the top floor?", "I am short of a waiter for a catering job, wanna come along?". And he never refused. People knew him well because of this and liked him in a strange sort of way. Well, how else could you like a person who hardly spoke a word, never put up a smile or even looked at anything but the pavement.

People thought he was sad. "Of course," he thought, "Of course, I am sad. What is there in my life to be happy about?". He used to talk a lot to himself. Well, to think of it, he only spoke to himself. He knew that his attempts to become a more social being had stopped a long time ago. It was not worth the effort to keep a smile on the face when a meal a day was all that kept him alive with nothing to look forward to and nothing else working his way.

He was quite well to do once upon a time. He was about to marry the most beautiful woman in the world, who loved him back. There was nothing he had wanted for in his whole life till then, and now there was no one thing he wanted for the fear of loosing it. He had owned a large estate on the outskirts of the city and today, he lived on what ever piece of pavement he could find in the neighbourhood adjoining the bridge. How life had changed in such a short period of time. What had gone wrong? What was it that he had done? He used to think about this during the long nights, especially in the winters, when nothing could keep him warm, except the thoughts from the past.

In the hours he had spent thinking about the cause for all his grief, he had nothing to point it at. He flipped the coin in his hand and looked at it closely for the thousandth time and drifted into the comfort of the past. This coin was the only thing remaining from the time in his life that he fondly remembered. He had found it one fateful day while walking to his office near the post office. It looked like any other ordinary coin, a couple of which would have bought him a decent breakfast. He looked at it and remembered how he had picked it up and just slipped it into his pocket and then the days when he used to wear his long coat and find the coin at many important moments in his life after that. The day he had won the contract for the bridge he now lay near, was one day he remembered looking at the coin as the contract was awarded to him. The day he proposed to Jill holding the coin in the other hand and wishing some luck from it as he showed her the ring and said, "Will you marry me?". So many fond memories and just a coin to show it for.

But many a time he used to blame the coin for all the misfortune that had befallen him. How the day Jill told him that she was not in love with him and walked away and the cold ring of the coin digging into the palm of his hand. No wishing had got him luck that day. Had the coin somehow been unlucky for him? He had been thinking about this for a while now. He wanted to throw the coin away. He had this feeling inside that the coin had somehow been causing him all the misery he saw around him today. He wondered who the past owner of the coin must have been? How many lives did the coin touch before it decided to descend upon him.

There was a freezing wind blowing as he clasped the overcoat tighter. He had not eaten anything today. For the past few weeks life had been tougher that the usual. Maybe it was the colder than usual winter this time. People were not doing as much around, and he was getting less odd jobs to earn his daily meal from. He looked into his palm for the remenant from his past and wondered why he should not just go ahead and spend it on a bowl of hot soup. He had thought of spending this coin many times but could never let go of it. It was his lucky coin, or was it? He wondered many times, if it was he who was holding on to the coin or was the coin holding on to him to see him completely destroyed before moving on to his next victim? But on cold nights like these, he hated it and wanted to just get rid of it. Still, how could a small coin make his life better or worse. He was not the rich man people used to talk about anymore. No paper would publish his interviews like they used to and line up outside his villa almost every weekend. They wanted to know the secret of making money. He laughed loudly in his head and wondered if he ever knew any secrets of making money or love of a simple life worth living at all. He laughed in his head as his jaw hurt from the cold. He laughed and looked at the coin and drifted in and out of a fit full sleep for the rest of the night.

He got up to the barking of the dogs near him. Those darned street mongrels. Every morning they would find some piece of meat in the dust bin by the other end of this narrow street and start barking and fighting for it. At least, he had never had the courage to rummage through the garbage, and in that he was holding on to the last of his will of leading a civilized life. People around him were warm, but he could not beg them. He could not get himself to beg. He knew he would die one day as an unknown face but then who wanted to live in this misery at all. Yes, he had even thought of killing himself, but then gave up on that thinking about the million time he had pitied anyone who thought of it as shameless and cowardly. No, he would continue living till life got tired of him and left. And then, there was the hope that something in his life would change. And then, he clasped the coin harder.

"Freddie!"

He looked in the direction of the voice and saw John, the grocer calling out to him from across the street. He walked in a hurried manner hoping for some odd job to pay off a good meal.

"Freddie, would you help me with this torn canopy?", John said pointing up towards a large tear in the canopy.

Freddie nodded and started helping John remove all the stilts that help the canopy up. A couple of hours of work, a little running to the tailor and few thanks later he had enough money to last him a couple of meals more. It's not my time yet, he thought and smiled a little to himself. It was not a smile of joy, instead a smile of challenging life to finish the job. He walked to the bakery and bought a loaf of bread. He sat down on the bench near the river and started breaking the bread. It was fresh and warm. Must have been in the oven less than 10 minutes ago, he thought. And as he ate, he was transported again to the costly dinners and large parties where food was always available and winters like these were the times for long chats around the fireplace with some shots of brandy by the side. Those were good days. He slowly dug into his pocket and fished out the coin and cried a little tear of despair.

He got up from the bench and stuffed the remaining loaf into his pocket and started walking towards the station. They had good drinking water there at all times. It was cold water in this weather, but it was clean. The governer had made sure of that last year. He had told the people to learn to live better, now that that country's economy was doing better and all that. He was a good, honest and hard working man, the governer. In the past, Freddie had met him when he was still young and working as an intern to the town's affluent lawyer. How life had changed for both of them? Ironic? Fate?

That night Freddie slept a little better. Sam, the tailor had given him an old blanket that kept him warm. He dreamt of Jill that night, the nice walks along the river, the grand opening of the bridge where she was by his side, the day he had proposed to her, the day they had told her parents. They were very happy at her choice for a husband. He smiled in his dreams that day. He woke up happy and felt fresh in the morning. The weather had held back a little on the cold winds today. He waited for someone to call him, but no one did till the afternoon. He went back to the bench and took out his loaf of bread and felt it. It was hard and cold, unlike yesterday. He managed to break a piece and chewed on it. The baker was a good fellow and made good bread. Even a day later it felt nice to eat.

"Freddie, want a make a couple of bucks?", someone shouted from behind him. Freddie got up and in a hurry stuffed the remaining bread and started strutting in the direction of the voice. He looked up ever so slightly and saw Emma, the tailors wife, waving to him from the marketplace. He nodded and waved back and quickened his pace.

Suddenly, he lost his balance on a loose piece of cobble and fell hard onto the street. Someone came to help him on his feet. He thanked the stranger and continued towards the tailor's shop. Emma wanted him to help her with cleaning her garden of some weeds. He obliged her and earned his meal for the rest of the week. He was a happy man today. Maybe, this is the day that my luck will change, he thought and put his hand into his pocket. He moved around the ends of the pocket to get his coin out. He did it absently for a couple of minutes and realised that the coin was not in there. He froze. He started searching the other pockets in the coat and then went on to the pant pockets and felt the weight grow in his heart as he could not find it anywhere.

He started running towards the place he had fallen. He remembered the faint clinking the coin must have made when it fell out of his pocket. He looked around frantically and grew restless. He looked around for any people who may have taken it or for the manhole grill. But that was too far away from where he was standing. Maybe, someone passed here and saw the coin and took it. He searched for a long time, hoping to find the last link to his past, the past that kept him warm in his dark, cold nights. He gave up as the wind started to pick up towards the evening. He din't leave the place, though. He just went to the church by the side of the street and huddled up near the gates, looking at the street that had taken his coin.

As the days went by, more and more people started calling him and giving him work. He started wondering if the coin having left him had allowed for his luck to come back. He was thrilled at the fact that his luck was changing. He had enough money now to last him a couple of weeks. He started smiling at people more. But he missed the coin, the memories that he was so fond of and could spend hours thinking of. He missed the cold ring in his palm. But he was sure that all this was for the good. The unlucky coin was finally out of his life and he was feeling optimistic.

A few weeks later, while walking across the bridge to deliver some grocery to a house on the other side of the river, he paused and watched the river. He put the bags down and leaned over the railings and started looking at his reflection in the water. His beard had grown so long. I will go the barber tomorrow, he thought. And then he started thinking about the way Jill and he used to take long walks along the riverside. The way they used to lean over the bridge and watch their reflections. A thousand thoughts of happiness crossed his mind. Where was Jill? She had wanted to study further and had left the city a few years back. He wished she would return and he could see her one last time. His face grew sad as he thought more and watched his reflection.

"Watch out", cried a boatman on the river. But before he could realize what was happening and react, the hoarde of sheep crossing the bridge made him stumble and fall over the railing. He went face first into the cold river. Finally, a well deserved bath, he joked to himself. But very soon, he started feeling the chills making the ends of his fingers go numb. He was scared of dying, but if this was the end, then so be it, he told himself. He started loosing consciousness. He faintly felt the fisherman's hand pulling him onto the boat. Emma had seen the whole thing happen and offered to take Freddie home. The fisherman was might proud as he should have been.

Emma took Freddie home and covered him in blankets and gave him some warm soup. But he could not eat anything. The shivers were getting worse and he was drifting in and out of consciousness. By nightfall, his fever had gone very high and the town's doctor had shaken his head as he had left the room. Is this how I am going to die, thought Freddie. A nameless existence coming to a mundane end? He din't quite remember the last few days of his life, but he remembered searching through his pockets for the coin. The coin that had kept him alive on the countless cold nights and those half meals. He started to feel the emptiness within himself as the world around him vanished slowly. He had had a good life and he was too old to start afresh now. The coin kept him alive. The coin had connected him to himself on all those days when he wanted to give in. And now, no matter how hard he tried to hold on to life, he could feel his tired hands relax their grip despite his inner voice screaming, "Not now, not like this".

It was a sunday, he remembered the church bells, when he slowly faded out of his consciousness for the last time. He dreamt on for some more time before it ended. The last thought he remembered was thinking about the coin, not Jill, not his past, just the coin. Why had the coin left him? Maybe, he would have lived, had the coin stayed with him. No, he was convinced that he would have lived, had the coin not been lost. Why had the coin left him? Had it moved onto another victim? Had he doubted the coin too much? Had he blamed too much on the coin? Was he giving too much credit to the coin? Would it have been different had he not lost the coin? Or would it have been different had he never found the coin? Should he have left the coin lying on the street those many years ago? He knew the end was near. He was relieved that it was going to be over soon. Was the coin lucky, as in leaving him, it took away the last of his will to live and end this miserable wretched life ? Or was it unlucky to have even brought these moments on him?

The sunday mass was just starting to gather in the church. Emma had also come, hoping to pray for Freddie. As she closed her eyes, the bell rang one last time and somehow, she knew. She prayed for him and walked home to find Freddie lying with a smile on his face. At least he was happy in his last moments, she thought. Many people attended the funeral the next day. All those who knew him and could not meet him earlier as their lives were too busy to visit a friend not doing too well. They all said good things about him. They spoke of his good nature and his friendliness. The spoke about Jill, they spoke about the bridge. They spoke about his will to live through tough times and the misfortune that had led to his untimely death.

But no on spoke about the coin. The coin that the governer was now holding in his hand. The coin that he had found a few weeks ago as he walked to the station to check on the water tank. The coin was so engaging and seemed to have a character of its own. And not to mention the call he had recieved the following day, after finding the coin, from the chief of the state wanting him to take up the prestegious upcoming water supply project up the river. He thought to himself, "Ain't this one lucky coin", and smiled.

Just returned from Singapore and a well chosen destination for my very first trip outside India and I am still to get over the feeling of sheer awe at what a small group of focused people achieve in just about half a century. There are so many things that will hit you, hard on the face, when you land in Singapore and I am no exception. I actually look forward to going back and enjoying some of the things that I miss here at home. Just to capture my feeling of awe, I am listing down some of the things that left me thinking if not spell bound.

The MRT

The MRT or the Mass Rapid Transport system or in other words, the subway system for intra-city travel of Singapore is awesome. It's mechanical and I am sure I would get bored of it soon, but the five days I spent there, it was like a joy ride. You can reach anywhere in less than half the time you would have ever imagined possible, all in the comfort of air conditioned cars that are as clean as your living room, among patient, calm and well behaved (albeit shy) set of co-travelers. The instructions on how to go around the MRT is everywhere and I never had the necessity to ask for directions even once. There were only two times I had to ask for help. The first time I ran out of small change and the ticket dispenser didn't accept large notes and the second time when the MRT station was closing at 11:45 PM when no more trains were available and I was quite a distance from my hotel (though we managed with a cab just as well, at that time we were pretty scared like lost kittens in the woods).

Roads and Traffic

What can I say. This is the first thing that you will note when you get there. The city is clean starting from the roads. Not spick and span as a glass floor in a 7-star hotel or anything (and that's way too much to expect), but clean enough to make you feel good. There are dried leaves and cigarette butts around, but no mud and minimal dust. Loads of greenery and enough shaded footpath to halt anytime and imbibe the view. Our guide told us that the Singaporean government spends almost 3 million Singaporean dollars to water these plants and trees and grass across the city. The traffic is very ordered too. You can step onto the road anytime and rest assured that the traffic will stop to accommodate you sudden behavior. I am aware that this is not quite due to the nature of the people but more so because of the heavy penalty associated with hitting a pedestrian. But it slows the city down to a manageable and comfortable speed. You will hear the rare honk somewhere in the distance and thats all the noise that you would feel disturbing after a few days.

Paucity of land

Yes, Singapore is a small country and they have limited land. They recycle the buildings and reuse the land for a variety of purposes as time progresses. For example, there are some pretty short buildings (about 6 to 7 floors) that were built in the 70's and then some of them (and eventually all of them) have been recycled and now taller (upto 20 floors and beyond) buildings stand at the same place. And the best part is, despite having to do all this juggelery, they have managed to space space for environmental places like a zoo, a night safari, a bird park (with the tallest man-made waterfall and the largest walk in aviary in the world)

The community

78% Chinese, 14% Malay, 7% Indians and 1% rest of the world make this city very multi-colored and multi-cultural. Lots of tolerance as far as I could see. The government has also enforced that each housing complex should contain a fair mix of the community. By the way, private housing in Singapore is very sparse and very expensive. Only 15% of the houses in Singapore are private, the rest 85% are provided by the government. I am sure the people don't quite approve of this, but who knows, maybe they like it this way too. I am sure this reduces a lot of headache associated with life.

Rest later... With snaps... Cheers...

A bit of everything

The 'unlucky' coin

Rifath and Satish

Singapore

Casa Estebana

Traffic in Bangalore

Suggested reads

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A bit of everything

The 'unlucky' coin

Rifath and Satish

Singapore

Casa Estebana

Traffic in Bangalore

Suggested reads

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