I was on my way home from NTUC at around 12AM when I saw him. He was lying on a bench at the bus station near Admiralty MRT, fast asleep. I had seen him there before, and I always wondered why he was there.
At first, I didn’t think much of it. I assumed that he was just a homeless person, trying to find a place to sleep for the night. But as I continued to see him there day after day, I started to wonder if there was more to his story.
One day, I decided to approach him. I walked over to the bench and sat down next to him. He didn’t stir, and I couldn’t help but feel a pang of pity for him.
“Excuse me,” I said gently, trying not to startle him. “I couldn’t help but notice that you’re always here, sleeping on this bench. Can I ask why?”
To my surprise, he opened his eyes and looked at me. He had a tired, worn expression on his face, and I could see the pain and sadness in his eyes.
“It’s a long story,” he said, his voice hoarse from sleep. “But if you really want to know, I’ll tell you.”
I nodded, and he began to speak.
“I used to have a good life. I had a wife and two kids, and we were happy. I had a good job and a nice house, and I thought that nothing could ever go wrong.
“But then, everything changed. My wife left me, and I lost my job. I was devastated, and I didn’t know what to do. I tried to find another job, but no one would hire me. I lost my house, and I was forced to live on the streets.
“At first, it was hard. I didn’t know how to survive, and I was constantly hungry and cold. But eventually, I learned how to make do. I started scavenging for food and looking for places to sleep.
“And that’s how I ended up here. This bus station is one of the few places where I know I can always find shelter, at least for a little while. It’s not much, but it’s better than nothing.
“I know that I’m not supposed to be here, and I’m grateful that the security guards let me stay. I don’t have anywhere else to go, and I don’t know what I would do if they kicked me out.
“But I’m trying to make the best of it. I keep to myself, and I try not to cause any trouble. I just want to survive, and to find a way to get my life back on track.
“That’s my story,” he finished, and I was stunned. I had never expected to hear something so heartbreaking and poignant.
“I’m sorry,” I said, feeling inadequate. “I had no idea. Is there anything I can do to help?”
He shook his head. “No, thank you. You’ve already done more than enough by listening to me. I appreciate it.”
I nodded, and we sat in silence for a few moments. I didn’t know what to say, and I couldn’t believe how much his life had changed.
Eventually, I stood up and said goodbye. I gave him a small smile and walked away, feeling a mix of emotions. I was saddened by his story, but I was also inspired by his resilience and determination.
I never saw him again, but I never forgot him. His story stayed with me, and it