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The Old Woman in Green

I am not a huge fan of Bolloywood movies. The song and dance, the forever affluent characters, the overdramatic endings, the all too typical storylines and the lack of variety makes Bollywood one of the worst reflection of the rich culture and heritage of the India. But now and then, a movie would come along that would touch the right notes here and there. I know a large number of my non-Indian friends who loved '3 Idiots', a movie that I felt hit all the right notes and then sadly plunged into the all too ridiculous Bollywood endings. Another movie that I felt a stronger connection to was 'Munna Bhai, MBBS', a story about an everyday gangster who decides to study medicine.

One part I particularly like about the movie is when the hero points out to his friend an old cleaner who worked in his school, who scolded everyone who walked across the floor he had just mopped, who incessantly complained. And the hero goes over and hugs the sweeper tightly and tells him 'Uncle. Thank you for keeping the place clean'. It is a touching moment, at least for me, a gentle reminder of those little people, who unknown to us, are an important part of our lives. People without whom our life may end up a tad more uncomfortable.

Reason I am saying this is though that there is such a cleaner I know, a frail old Malay woman, who everyday without fail, clears up the rubbish in my computer lab. Every morning she would dutifully come and empty the waste, talking to herself in a mixture of English and Malay. Sometimes she would scold those sitting near the trash if it overflowed, just like an old woman would nag her grand children, and everyone would look at her and say nothing, just waiting for her to leave so that they can carry on with their work.

Not that I am blaming anyone. We are all very busy people. Just that, at least to me, the sight of her is one of the few bright moments of my day, when someone whom you have no relation to scolds you for not throwing the rubbish properly. That closeness, that familiarity she assumes is heart warming. Half the time, I do not understand what she is telling me (She thinks I am malay and so speaks to me in Malay) but I try my best to talk to her when I can.

And I hope one day, before I leave school, I can buy her a cup of tea.

Just my way of saying thank you.

Not for clearing my rubbish. But for being one of the bright spots in my university life.

Comments

  1. Hi there, I chanced upon your blog. And I think you portray your thoughts really well. Its mostly what runs through the common mind. A good read indeed. Just thought I should let you know!

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