Being Human

IMG_3710 PHOTO: Reuel Eugene Tay – Owner of a shop in Little India


I was carrying out my night duties for a period of nights when I observed a good number of blue collar workers sleeping at bus stops, on the ground near their workplace, at parks. I felt so sad at this point.

While many dislike going home [early], with all kinds of reasons to do so and would spend much time away from home going clubbing, staying out till the wee hours of the night, refuse to go home because they dislike their parents, some… Don’t have a home to go back to. (I am not being presumptuous, just making a point)

Sometimes I wonder how I can sleep so well in the comforts of my home, with a shelter over my head, nice warm blankets to keep out the cold, comfy pillow to lay my head, and even a bolster to hug, when there is someone out there sleeping on the seats of a bus stop, laying on makeshift beds made out of cardboards. Home is where they could find on a dad to day basis perhaps, sleeping and fearing being chased away by authorities.

Yes, you may argue that they didn’t work or study hard (that would’ve too cruel of one to do so though), sometimes some people just didn’t come from a fortunate background or was just dealt a lousier hand in life.

Being Human.

I am grateful for being given good parents. I am grateful to being more privileged than many in the world. I pray that one day I can do something to benefit homeless and lesser privileged people, people who fall out of the normal spectrums of society. Maybe build a shelter? Start a fund?

Lord, use me.

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