Cats

I wonder what cats do.

Foreign workers (Singapore)

They addressed him as 'ah-neh'.

It could have well been his name, but I never clarified. The earphones he wore were connected to his handphone, and for the duration I was there with them he talked on the phone. The two seated on the pavement spoke in their tongue. All I could understand was mention of 'Jacky' and that there was no lorry. Then the aquaintance on the bicycle pedalled off and they were left in their company. In brief dialogue ah neh told me he was waiting for a lorry to come. I didn't know if he had family of his own, if he was single, or anything else about him. I was merely civilian citizen to him; at best, an observer behind a camera.

To some, foreigners and their work here is an economic issue, a simple trade of demand and supply. To others, the condition is a 'social concern', somehow bolstered by imagery of clusters of them in open plains, or overcrowded buses on Sunday night, or just a different colour of skin.

To me, it was drama, unfolding, a wealth of subtle emotions that summated yet another echo of human pathos and comedy, somehow always found inextricably wound up together.

-outhere