reddish brown... white.

I shouldn't be blogging right now in the office after a hearty lunch, but what the heck. I need to pump some blood to my brain lest i get drowsy with the downflow of blood to digest all the (sinful) food.

And you maybe thinking, what the hell is the title about. I have little inkling as to that, maybe my creative juices are not that plentiful as before. But as you can see, this is the first time I'm actually putting some effort into punctuation. Not that I'm feeling abnormal but rather, I'm feeling kind of perky today. Read on and you'll know why.

Anyway, I was walking towards Hong Lim Complex having heard of the famous Char Kway Teow which people will die to satisfy their palates with. And as I was crossing the road, I saw an old man whose back was facing me. The first thing that caught my eyes was that his long black pants was below the waist and exposing his underpants (or those traditional type of boxers old people wear). To make things worse, the second thing I saw was his hands were as if held together at his crotch from the back and jerking (damn, no pun intended). I was like thinking "What the hell?!?" And so I tried to pull off an ingenious subterfuge to know what this elderly man was actually doing along the road outside Hong Lim Park. I took a 180 degree turn to pretend to "beo" at the young lady who was just some distance down the road, behind him.

I saw his hands this time... not at his crotch as I thought, but rather his trembling hands were struggling to fasten his belt and pants that were falling. I walked a few more steps, hesistated for a while, then I walked back to ask if he needed help. Not that I'm medically informed, but I guess it should have been Parkinsons or some old age related ailments that were causing the deterioration of his movements. In any case, I pulled up his pants on both side so he could fasten his belt. Subsequently, I hailed a taxi for him and helped him in. And throughout the whole process, he was drooling uncontrollably. So much so that the taxi driver was kinda pissed. And so much so that I could feel the vulnerability and helplessness emanating from his aged and frail physique. Then I left for Hong Lim Complex for the raved rice noodle, feeling a tad heartened with my act.

And during lunch, I somehow ended up in small talk with the sugar cane aunty who was telling me about her difficulties in running a stall at Hong Lim Complex despite her sugarcane drink being famed as the most "xiang" and "tian". And then as I was polishing off the remaining bits of noodle on the plate, we ending our conversation with her advising me to be a filial son and that no one can be closer to you than your own mother. Wise words of wisdom indeed.

Also, I realised that Hong Lim/Chinatown area is actually a landscape typified by the aged. For example, I saw old uncles and aunties cycling precariously with stacks of cardboard to a central collection point for some dough. Then with every few steps I take, I see people with natural white hair. And it dawned upon me that white is a sign of fraility, acquiescence and a kind of poignance that draws me towards it so insidiously.

Then what does reddish brown signify? Compassion, idealism and ambition but with unbridled brashness at times?

You tell me then.