Musing

He sat beside me, an ordinary middle aged man in a checkered shirt, tie,black pants and a brown briefcase. I did not notice him at first because I had somehow accidentally caught the attention of a toddler who seemed to have taken an UNHEALTHY interest in my phone and was attempting to grab it with his curious little hands. Fortunately, his mother realised what her little brat was doing and pulled him back soon after, imprisoning him once again in his pram, much to my tremendous relief.

It was then when I heard the sound.

I turned.

The man was sitting there, his eyes closed. He had cupped his hands together and was bringing them back and forth to his face, muttering to himself repeatedly. I watched in amusement. Is this some kind of stress relieve technique? Half a minute went by. The man was muttering louder now. He would be quiet for some time, then continue his action of putting his cupped hands back and forth towards his face. In, out. In, out. This time his inaudible mutterings will be punctuated by soft whispers of "Please God. Please please please" as his body moved in rhythm to his own prayer. Back and forth, back and forth.

A loud wail distracted me. I looked away to see the toddler straining to get out of his pram and pointing his tiny finger at my phone. His mother was trying to quiet him down,flashing apologetic smiles in my direction every now and then. I decided that my phone will have a longer future in my pocket instead.

I looked back at the man beside me. To my surprise, tears were streaming down his face. His eyes were still closed, and he was repeating the whole cycle again, this time with increasing urgency. "Please God. Please please please." I strained to hear further, but he was muttering way too fast and too quietly.

"Next stop.Yishun."

The man opened his eyes. He let out a long sigh. Then he clasped his hands, bowed his head and started praying again. Silently this time. I noticed that he had clasped his hands so tightly that his knuckles were white.

"Yishun. Yishun."

"Oh. Please God. Please." He stopped, and looked up. Then, standing up, he wiped his tears away with one quick swipe of his hand. His expression was calm, his movements slow and purposeful as he walked out of the train and blended quietly into the crowd.

Meanwhile, the toddler continued to scream.