untrained

My friend Eugene once asked me if I had a choice, would I prefer to commute by train or drive to work. Without hesitation, I said I would drive if I could and had the means. Not because I am spoilt and despise public transport, but because the truth is that travelling by train – these days, at least – is an unpleasant experience. And if someone were to ask me to compare the situation here with Japan or other countries where their trains are far more crowded, I would politely say that’s irrelevant – because I live in Singapore and not Japan or anywhere else, for that matter. It doesn’t affect me if the situation elsewhere is far worse and that because of this fact I should be thankful for what I’ve to put up with over here. No.

One can’t really expect to have a seat or few passengers on the train during the peak hours – this much is granted. And I am not so much annoyed by overcrowding as I am by the inconsideration and disagreeable habits of fellow passengers. I have to admit that sometimes it’s to no fault of others that i find myself being irritated, and I should have myself to blame for being fussy.

Just this morning, I moved to the centre of the carriage as usual and planted myself there for the rest of the journey. After a while, I found myself having to listen to the bitching over the phone by the lady standing next to me. Nothing on the train seemed to quite affect her, and she continued her conversation with what I guessed to be her colleague throughout the journey. Her tone was mildly severe and I guessed she’s the sort of woman who is very particular and who one should like to avoid crossing swords with. She had a stern expression each time I glanced her side profile.

I wished I could be oblivious to her conversation but, as someone who is fairly observant and sensitive to his surroundings, I couldn’t shut out the information that she’s feeding into the mouthpiece, even when I resorted to plugging my earphones. (I am not one who can endure loud music so the volume will never be turned up beyond a certain level.)

While I was trying hard to ignore this constant irritation to my left, I soon felt a frequent jabbing at my back on the right side. The source of the jabbing: a magazine, the owner of which is a lady of keen focus, for she perused her magazine with a concentration that could probably only be shaken if the train derailed its tracks. I do wish I had the tenacity of such folks whom I meet all too often during my journeys of survival (I travel to work and earn a living, don’t I).

These incidents (and there are many more) may seem petty and I won’t disagree to some extent. But everyone has his or her own level of preference and tolerance. What these little actions and details and occurrences do is that they conspire to encroach on my consciousness, making it impossible for me to find quiet and equilibrium in the realm of space and rest within each of us that we could and would retreat into when we need to. These are the ‘noises’ in life that we can all do without.

I don’t need to drive a car. I just need to avoid contact with the kaleidoscope of disagreeable habits that unfortunately assault each of us everyday and which we can’t escape from – unless you live on a farm faraway in the outskirts of city. Maybe then you can. Just maybe.