The Pause Button

I never thought that you'd hit the Pause button. I always offered it to you, but I never thought you'd use the option.

I was scarred before by this. But, even now, I still trust you. I put my heart gingerly in the palm of your hands.

Even if this turns out for the worse, I will willingly let you scar me. I am already yours.

Elevator

And so I read the hilarious entries of elevator buttons and how to "unclick" them.

It made me recall something about an elevator incident that I encountered when I went home to Penang in July.

My dad, mom and I stepped into an elevator of a swanky apartment block in prime real estate by the prime Gurney Drive area. It was my uncle's comfy pad we were headed to. He was out of town and I happened to be in town and so he wanted us to have the place for the time being. It was like a resort getaway for me.

So anyway, we were in the elevator, and along came a short, young man who stepped in with us. The elevator door closed and we pressed the button to the top floor, while the young man were headed to a few floors below ours.

I suddenly asked my dad why we couldn't take any of the elevators across the lobby and had to wait for the ones on this side. Before my dad could reply, the young man chirped in with a volunteered reply, "Oh, the other row of lifts only reach the 20th floor or lower. Your apartment is in the top floor, so only the lifts on this row will take you there."

My mom and dad, gratified that someone who is more familiar with this apartment block volunteered an answer, began to strike a conversation with the young man. Turns out he had been staying here for over 3 years. And in that short span of what must have been under a minute, a steady stream of banter took place between my parents and this total stranger.

When we reached his floor, he gave us a polite nod, a cheery smile and a chirpy "See you again."

I found myself deeply perturbed by this scene, and yet I can't quite put my finger onto it. Something is amiss. It was then that I realized, this never happens in Singapore.

In Singapore, strangers just don't engage in conversations in the lifts. It's just unheard of, unpracticed, and almost an unwritten rule.

I find myself reeling from that thought. 10 years have passed since I first made my residence in Singapore. And in that 10 years, I find myself hardly talking to strangers. In elevators, or out of them.

In the few days that I was in Penang, I was engaged in conversations by no less than 4 strangers. And in all situations, it turned out to be mostly pleasant, at times eye-opening, and always benign.

I wonder if the Singaporeans are missing out on something. Something as simple as the joy of tipping your proverbial hat to a passerby, giving him/her a smile and saying "Nice day isn't it?"

And it doesn't have to be in an elevator.