Visual Trigger
The Old Man and The Bus
I always saw this old man waiting for bus 180 during late weekend afternoon. He was alone , sitting at the very end of the bustop , and looking at the direction where the bus is arriving . I found him quite interesting as he’s always wearing the same set of clothes everyday , taking the same walking stick , wearing the same slipper and even talking the same thing to the bus driver when he boarded the bus . I wanted to initate a conversation with him for a very long time , however , it’s my courage that defeated me as the old man seemed so stern that stopped me from approaching him . Finally , one day , my curiousity won over my courage , i went up to talk to him for the first time . But who knows ? it’s also the last time that i ever get to talked to him.
“hi sir , where are u going? ” i asked .
“i’m heading to geylang..” he replied in a stern and unfriendly way.
Upon hearing his reply , i started to have a wrong perception of this old man . I wanted to end our conversation and walk away , It was then he started speaking again ,
“there’s no job for me , what to do except for going geylang and collect cans?”
He caught my interest back on him again . We had a hearty conversation while waiting for the bus . I found out that this old man wore the same shirt , does the same thing everyday as he wants the bus-driver to remember him , so next time if he’s really broke to the extend of not able to afford for a ride , he hope the bus-driver would ‘close an eye’.
“alright dude , my bus is here! it’s my pleasure talking to you” he seemed more friendly compared to the first time i spoke to him.
“it’s my pleasure too , i shall see ya again here tomorrow” i smiled,
“sure ! don’t be late tomorrow ! ” the contented old man boarded the bus with a big smile.
That was the last time i get to this old man . I fell sick and did not show up at the bustop for the next few days . When i was at home resting , i prepared some biscuits that i feel that it would be able to fill the old man’s stomach during his work time . However , the old man did showed up when i returned to the bustop after a week of rest .
Few week passed , the seat at the end of the bustop was still occupied , neither is there any news of the old man . “Is he angry that i didn’t showed up that day?” i started worrying that the old man might walked me off because of this broken promise. When i reached school , i slowly put the tin of biscuits that i have been carrying it with me for the past few weeks , hoping to see him and able to pass it to him . A piece of random newspaper at the rubbish bin caught my attention . I could sense something unpleasant is going to be unleashed . I paced to the bin with fear , slowly pick the newspaper up and read the headlines , “Old man died on the spot after falling off from the bus”. My mind was blank that particular moment , the fact seems to be so blur to me . Why would the old man be gone all of a sudden? The truth became clearer to me when mom explained it to me when i reached home . She heard that the driver driving that bus that day was new , the old man did not have sufficient coins with him and he pleaded the driver for him to board the bus . However , the heartless young driver just pushed him off and he accidentally fell off the steps .
“Way he went to meet the god..” i hope he would be in a better place now . The next day , i brought that tin of biscuits with me as usual . But this time , i left it on the seat that the old man always sat when he was alive.
