ATM Ran Out Of Receipt

The ATM machine was running out of receipt again.

Many lined up shook their heads, and began to grumble and mutter “no”.

A few were leaving the ATM room with a sad and long face.

Then someone said, “This one is okay.”

Many shifted to another row.

I chuckled and nodded, half-smiling.

I asked myself, “why the receipt?”

I had seen many people pressed the button for the transaction receipt, took a quick look, crumpled it and threw it into the plastic rubbish basket provided.

I did it differently. I kept the former transaction receipt in my wallet to remind myself of the balance. I took a quick look every time before I withdrew money from the ATM machine. I then did my transaction, threw away the former receipt into the basket and kept the new receipt in my wallet for future reference.

I believed the idea of keeping the receipt was more convenient than necessary. I just couldn’t understand why many people made a fuss about having the transaction receipt and not keeping it. If we just wanted to know our balance, we could always check by pressing the ‘Balance Enquiry” button on any ATM machine. I just couldn’t understand why people refused to transact just because the machine was running out of receipt.

I might get annoyed if all the ATM machines were out of order or running out of money.

But I would never leave the ATM room just because all the machines were running out of receipt.

Back To My Room

They have finished the rewiring of the office building; my room is now ready for use. All the lights are functioning and are turned on. The air-conditioner is working well and powerfully cold. Though there is this pungent smell of a wet paint, it is not here to stay. The wires are now concealed in plastered walls and ceiling. Everything looks just beautiful and well done.

It is time to move back to my room and begin my work here. I had not worked here for almost a month now, though I had often frequented it. But I had not resorted to relaxation and empty talks on any single day. Instead, I had my working space in the staffroom as an alternative and I was fully occupied. It is just not right to stop working just because of circumstances. Work is work and we are paid to do our work.

Now that I am back to my own table and chair, there is this sense of belonging, and this feeling of lightness and freedom. Everything is back to normal now. Now I can do what I am used to do, and reorganize my work. Everything I need is readily at hand; there is no need to rush and hurry as before. Once again I can stretch my arms, hum a song or drink my tea in peace whenever I want. Once again I can take off my shoes and let the feet feel the cold cement floor. Oh! It is really nice to have my room back.

I presume every one of us needs our own space to work. Mine is a common room and more to a storeroom. Here are the file cabinets and office storage cabinets. Here are the Photostat machine and the washroom. Here they keep every office supplies and equipments possible. And for your information, here is the only route to the toilets and another two washrooms.

Sometimes, strangers and visitors pass by, greet and tease us while shaking their heads, laughing and smiling away. Sometimes, we do grumble inside. But it doesn’t matter; it is still a good place to work. Of course, if possible, I would like to have a private room, a room where I can escape from prying eyes and ears, away from rumor-mongers and muck-spreaders, and those grievers and mourners around. But as it is, we don’t demand changes just because of self-gratification; instead we adapt ourselves to whatever circumstances possible, work hard and earn our pay.

The room is still in a mess. There are still things to get ready before I can enjoy my workplace. But there is no need to hurry. It is not the amount of work we can do that matters. Rather, it is the quality time we spend to do our work.

I take another look at my room. I am satisfied.

Gone is the electrical blackout.

Hopefully this time is for good.

The Grass Cutting Guys

The grass cutting guys came this morning.

It had been quite some time since their last visit; the grass had grown tall and thick.

They came masked and dressed like a ninja, fully covered and protected. The only difference I could find was the gardener’s hat that kept them from the sun.

I saw them getting ready the brush cutter by pulling the trigger. They warmed it up a little. They revved the engine a couple of times by pressing the trigger, injecting more fuel into the engine and causing it to spin faster.

I watched them carefully and studied them. I was inquisitive as to what and how they would do it. I admired their punctuality, but I had yet to see their workmanship, professionalism and dedication.

Except for a little trash talk, none of them discussed about their work. I presumed they must have decided on what and how they would do before they came, or it might have been their normal routine on any given task after years of working together.

I could see they were working in pair, back to back to one another, one fellow cutting an area of the field while the other fellow cutting the opposite side.

As they were cutting the long and thick grass, I saw the grasshoppers, the locusts and many other insects escaping, hopping and running away wildly. It would be a good morning exercise for them carrying their belongings; I chuckled and had a good laugh.

A large patch of the field was cleared in no time. The well-trimmed grass field looked beautiful and welcoming. It would be nice to step on it and enjoy the wind and the cold out in the open. The smell of the freshly cut grass must be intoxicating and invigorating. Wow! Standing in the open field and stretching out the hands would be nice. It offered an excellent break from the normal routine of life.

The morning sunlight was shining brightly down on the workers. I could see the beads of sweat dripping down their bodies. They were sweating through their hats, scarves, gloves, shirts, stocking and pants. I imagined a brown tanned body bathed in thick sweat! They would surely look sexy to many admirers, I smiled.

I loved what I was seeing today and I was enjoying my sweet time. Then my mind wandered.......

Many things happen every day. Some seem so insignificant and trivial. But it is never insignificant or trivial to the people concerned or involved. To them, it is so very important and urgent that they must do it fast. And it is never insignificant or trivial when it involves the well being of others.

A wise man expands his horizons and enhances his own wisdom by opening himself to learn from the virtues of others. And here is one for me to learn. What have you learned from the grass cutting guys?

Time To Get Ready

It was 9 a.m.

The shop was opened an hour ago.

There was no customer around; not even one.

It was a bright, sunny, and cool Saturday morning, a very good day for business; most people would be taking their day off.

A food stall owner was busy preparing her dishes; her assistance was busy washing vegetables and chopping up meat. They looked happy and not worried, talking, smiling and laughing away as they did their work.

The shop owner was sitting at one corner, reading his favorite newspaper. He was doing the drinks. Surely he must have everything ready long beforehand to serve his first customers. He looked tall with his bright red cap, and there were patches of white hair on either side of his head.

The small shop looked clean, neat, and comfortable. It would be a nice and quiet place to calm down, do some thinking, and get away from the hustle and bustle of the day.

I arrived in front of the shop with my youngest daughter. She was planning to have her haircut at the corner shop.

As I was musing in my van, I could see many vehicles moving along the main road, but few pedestrians walking along the sidewalk. I could see a Chinese school opposite the shop, looking unusually quiet and peaceful with its beautiful garden and landscape.

The small town was busy with people but not this area. But the school opposite could readily supply more than enough customers for the weekdays.

The weekend business would be a bonus. It was time for the working people to run away from their daily routine, take a break and meet with their family and friends, and have their sweet time. Surely some of them would frequent the shop if the food was tasty and delicious.

I smiled to myself, hoping for some solemn faces to come around soon. Seeing them bursting into awkward laughter would be fun, and food for the day.

An adjacent food shop was doing fine, serving some customers. But it wasn’t big deal. Every shop had its own customers and they would come later.

The shopkeeper and the stall owner continued what they were doing. The assistants were wiping and setting the tables.

It was 9.30 a.m. The shop was getting busy. The food seller smiled a broad smile, so did the shopkeeper with his drinks, showing his solid white teeth.

The preparation stage was over, now came the money.

Everyone was smiling, laughing, and talking. The small town was unusually busy again.