Beetle-browed Old Man

Every now and then, I’d see this old man doing some paint job or just making sure the door hinges are oiled. The handyman stopped short of doing the dirty job. Well you see, like any other Malaysians, we’re too superior to do the job meant for foreigners. And we always let that get to our heads.

Yesterday as I walked on the corridor towards him, I’d see his dark complexion. A result of years of labour in the hot sun maybe? His thin frame – not emaciated, just thin – wrapped in a faded T-shirt and the old fishing hat portrays a hardworking person not wanting to retire into a rocking chair. You know, some people just don’t stop working. I must say, I admire such fortitude.

As I neared, he chucked something to the ground.

On first thought, I went, “Uncle, why do you simply throw the bolt?”

A clang could be heard as it hit the ground and naturally, I tracked its path. It’s a key. He mumbled something intelligible.

Out of nowhere, a guy in checks appeared, hurried past me and picked up the key. More instructions followed and the old man scowled. Then the guy, also with a much darker complexion but not from baking in the sun, disappeared. I stared at the man.

So, this old man thinks a foreigner earning a living here is not worthy of a respectful treatment? The way I see it, he’s a striver. Rightly so these days but not in a degrading manner, right?

But would it be proper for me to tell him off? I’m not sure. I wished I’d do something at that moment. Perhaps, a consolation to my inaction would be that I acknowledged him with a nod and a hand gesture when we crossed path at the lift moments later.

To the old man I say... Years of hard work appears to make you a bitter person insensitive to another person’s honour. It’s wrong to think that the nature of your work, whilst admirable, has taught you the meaning of humility. I dare say, given the chance, you’d pack stale food for the guy in checks.

Plonker!