My MRT Journey

For the past few days, I have been very grateful to the very generous MRT commuters who have given up their seats when they see me board the train at Tampines, with or without a bandage. For that, I sincerely thank them from their bottom of my heart because I honestly have no idea how much their gesture meant to me until today.

See the thing is, my injury albeit small yet grotesque looking and seemingly resemble a shriveled piece of bacon, hurts like crap when I stand for long because when I do, I apply pressure on my injury and it feels like my wound is ripping apart - slowly.

That said, it really helps when I get to sit down on my MRT journey from Tampines to Raffles Place.

So this morning, I boarded the train to work as usual. Perhaps I've taken for granted the nice commuters I've met over the past few days, and assumed that today, someone will give up their seat when they see me and my injury.

But no one did. Not a single soul. It was as if someone had cast a sleeping spell the moment I entered the train; everyone closed their eyes and pretended to sleep so that their moral conscience will not propel them to give up their seat for a poor girl hobbling about - even with the slightest reluctance and obligation.

No. They shut their eyes and pretended not to look at me.

And there I was, enduring the pain, praying for a nice soul to give up their seat. Still, no one did.

This morning, that 30 minutes train journey seemed like an hour; with me applying my weight on my right leg, both hands grasping the pole for some balance, and pain written all over my face.


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