Having the blues for life?

There was a recently published article on a University graduate who gratefully embraced her fiancé’s proposal – only that he is a Chicken Rice seller. My first look at their portrait gave me the vibes of exuberance and bliss as they both were pictorially selling chicken rice behind the counter, unruffled. As I scrolled to the end of the article, I couldn’t help but gasp at the sordid thread of nosey parkers who shared their 2 cents worth on the graduate and chicken rice seller’s relationship. Some would pigeonhole this openly, as marrying down.

Sad to say that Singaporeans are molded to believe that we’re a head above others in everything that we do (whether it’s morally acceptable or not, who cares). If a Singaporean were to walk pass a homeless beggar clad in a tatty washed out piece of shorts, our first reaction would be to hold our breaths, give an apprehensible frown and indiscreetly try to weave or “siam” our way around them so that we won’t have to whiff that trace of lingering funky scent if we were to trail behind them.

Put that same Singaporean at a banquet table, graced by a bevy of social figureheads who’re all about facts, numbers and figures. Which cloud would he be on? Probably 12. Picture the same beggar dressed to the nines, carving a herb-infused beef shank off his skillet as the finely sliced piece of auburn and succulent shank gently falls onto your chinaware serving plate. You’d think of him differently because he’s outfitted in an incredibly smart tux. Behind his smile lies a homeless beggar in fraught of not being socially accepted. The difference? Because we judge.

Sure, it’s human nature to spurn and scorn others who’re not as proficient as we are. I’m shamefaced of that and if you’re not, then you’re not human.

However, it has always been a choice at freewill to choose your ultimate soul mate, whether he drives a Maserati/ owns a property in Dubai/ mints gold/ has 4 kids/ is incapable/ survived a bear attack/ is a rag-and-bone man, or whatever. Truth of the matter is simple – it doesn’t matter at all how achieved he is, because love doesn’t lie. Oh yes, it may be slightly different here in Singapore because as I said before, the rebirth of a single income family is simply nonexistent. But really, who are you to despise this graduate from happily marrying her chicken rice stall worker? For all you know, he’s probably the son of a magnate of Indonesia’s chicken farm and he’s probably driving a Lamborghini unlike you.

I’m revolted at how Singaporean’s uncertified columnists and forum contributors responsively attack the happenstance of such a humble and beautiful marriage. In the arms of a prosperous and thriving businessman who drives the fastest, flashiest car in town, you probably can’t soak in the pleasures and beauty of just spending time in the kitchen with your partner/ spring cleaning your house together / laughing at the slightest mistakes you make as a couple… and the list goes on. You’d be treated like a Queen to that simple man of yours.

In the arms of that governing affluent businessman boyfriend of yours, you’re more like his servant. Not to say that all governing men of certain statuses are like that, but a majority of them are, or will be. Just because he brings you to dine in fancy restaurants, buys an LV satchel for you and sends you for manicure and spa sessions isn’t a sign of his honest love declaration for you. Well, my take is that he probably needs to groom you enough to be of standard before showing you off to his clients. Women have long past that stage of reticence, so stand up for yourself if your man is subtly dropping hints to you that makes you feel like the ugliest woman on earth who’d need 10 plastic surgery jobs.

A blue collared worker has always been the pillar of beginnings in Singapore. Who do you think you are, judging the man who’s slogging 24/7 at a construction site with an unventilated plastic helmet strapped as a cap, who’s struggling to earn a living to feed his simply contented family of 8? You know, he’d be the man who brings the bacon home, who’d be welcomed warmly by his wife and kids when he steps foot back home after his hard day of work. This man spends his weekend taking his family out for strolls in the park, for picnics at the gardens and basically every and anything under the sun that doesn’t demand much from his family. He's the man who'd spend time in bed with you, talking about everything under the sun. He's the man who'd be intimate with you, who'd carress you in his weathered arms. 

Opposing, the governing man of prosperity and ego comes back home after his late night sessions without greeting you as he walks through the door. He hassles you at 1am telling you that you didn’t do the laundry properly, or that you forgot to iron his clothes. Sure, he delights you once in a blue moon with LVs, YSLs, Dior and Chanel and sends you for facials and massages at Singapore’s premium spas and massage parlors. He tells you he's tired for intimacy after a hard day of work. He sleeps facing the other side of the bed and someday, physical intimacy fades and disappears. You know, this man hides the whole world away from you. His daily routines, rituals, lifestyle, friends, habits… to him, the lesser the better.

Now think about it, who’s better off than the other?

There’s really no explanation about love. Love is a feeling that’s unexplained in words. I was inspired to craft this article after reading an offensive post by a local blogger whom I’d leave undisclosed.

Singaporeans, it’s time to grow up and out of your shells.