Me and my friend, Jinlin, almost meet daily on the same bus on our way to school every morning. The "52" bus service was always a crowded one, with middle-aged civil servants lining the walkway while the average secondary school student leaned drowsily against the slippery window pane or kept his nose deep inside a thick chemistry textbook. I always saw the same crowd of people whenever I took the bus. A fellow Secondary four senior whom I did not know by name but was all too familiar by face, a River-Valley High boy going to school along with his younger brother, my fellow Tae-Kwon-Do club practitioner who was one year my senior and of course, Jinlin. But there was always this old lady, frail yet always so serene, holding out a card with the figures "52", "154" and "151", holding a walking stick and traipsing blindly into an unaccommodating crowd.
Later, after conversing with Jinlin, who obviously knew what happened on the bus clearly than I did, I realized that she was blind. Partially or completely, I didn't know and I never would. Usually, she would stand at the front of the bus, presumably to ease herself when she needed to get off the bus. However, every now and then, she would want to sit down, and moved carefully towards the rear of the bus. It might have been public pressure that prompted all the young men I had seen so far to get off their seat hurriedly whenever she approached them. Whatever it is, she always got a seat.
I always wondered how the human psyche worked. When we see something that, by moral standards or personal dignity, had to be done, why is it that sometimes there's just that peculiar force that pulls us back. It is sort of like how a fly is attracted away from a tasty looking fruit towards a more vibrant and exotic pitcher plant. Somehow, I think lust for personal benefit and the sole interest in personal gain prompts us to do the "wrong" thing. However, in this case, what would have prompted these young men to do such a simple act of courtesy? Was it Pride? Was it Ego? I just could not understand.
Well, I could not understand until the day I gave up a seat myself.
I was on the bus service "52". My bag was heavy. The dead weight of the Toshiba Laptop and my uncomfortably soaked judogi nearly anchored me to the ground. It was one of the days I wished I brought enough money for a cab. I was resolved to take any opportunity I could get my hands on to obtain a seat and eventually, I got one...in the sitting area "reserved exclusively" for the elderly, handicapped and pregnant. I couldn't care less at the time.
Then, She boarded the bus. This time, I don't think she had much of a choice. The bus was even more packed than usual and she was prompted by the bus driver to move to the rear of the vehicle, where there were obviously no seats available. Apparently, the bus driver had assumed someone would give up their seat for her. She walked my way. I looked around and to my surprise, saw nonchalant, apathetic faces all around me. Where were the few young men who always offered their seats?
For the first time on the bus, I felt the gaze of the whole bus resting upon the group of four people sitting along the "reserved" seating area. It was as if they were forcing me to get up and give away my seat. I was indignant. If they were so high and mighty, why not they do it? I challenged them silently. However, another feeling burned steadily within me. It was fiery, but it was unlike anger, unlike envy, unlike anything I had felt before. Naturally, I stood up and walked off. As I passed, I saw something glitter behind those pair of dull, monotonous eyes and her warm smile made something within me flutter. I felt a ripple in the cool ocean of my heart. So that was what it felt like.
I think a good deed is not done out of ego or pride or shame. One cannot really say what truly prompted them to do what they did when they witnessed that moment of helplessness. But I guess, as some try to explain, we call it "doing it out of our heart".
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