My first official post on this shiny new blog of mine recounts an event that happened to me the last time I was in KL. I had just went to collect my Canadian visa at the Canadian High Commission in Jalan Tun Razak that morning. Upon my return, I passed through KL Sentral to complete a train switch that would take me back to where I was temporarily staying.

So hum di dum, nothing really unusual as I crossed to open area from the Putra line to the KTM booths-KL Sentral, reasonably full of people, huge screen above the escalators flashing advertisements that I have seen since my SECOND year in RMC (that’s back in 2003 just so you know), McD as usual packed nak mampus….the whole routine KL Sentral enchilada, you get the picture. The one thing new I noticed was this dandruff ad-the company responsible had broken down huge chunks of plastic and lain them among a signboard advertising their latest anti-dandruff shampoo lol. Not bad not bad.

But what am I saying. Okay, so off I went to buy my ticket to Setia Jaya. Bade the counter woman (countress? lol) good day and headed to the ticket turnstiles. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the KTM guy at the gate help a guy in his forties through as he seemed to be having some difficulties with the machine.

I didn’t give it much thought then. Arriving at the underground platforms, I was greeted by the sight of the rear end of the train I had wanted to catch whooshing away into the afternoon sun. It wasn’t the first time I had had such blarsted luck. So I began my 20 minute wait, and presently the man I had seen receiving help at the turnstiles came down the escalators; no wonder the staff there had given him help-

The guy was blind. He couldn’t even see the bright contrast of pink, brown and black on his shirt. The man was holding his cane and gingerly feeling his way onto the platform, walking into walls and testing the ground with his intermittent taps. I watched as he slowly rounded the escalator and headed in my direction.

The platform was deserted and there was nothing else for it. It was just me and him, two random individuals waiting for the same train that would take us to other possibilities in this wide wide world. Melodramatic, but I hope it sets the tone for what I am going to question next.

So I walk over to this man and watched him for an infintesimal moment before I took my next move; even in this infinitesimal moment he was able to evoke my impending actions further by unconsciously walking into a solid brick barrier. I then spoke to him, taking care to ensure my intonation read of nothing but cheerfulness and the desire to know where he was going.

“Selamat pagi pak cik; pak cik nak pergi mana?“. Good day sir, where might you be off too was a line I figured would work. It did.

The man’s face turned in my general direction and responded.

“Subang-“

And it was more than an answer. He iniciated further conversation-

“Tren dah sampai ke belum?“. Of course he would wonder if the train had arrived or not-he couldn’t even see the face of the boy beside him.To this I replied, with careful intonation and gestures:

“Baru lepas pak cik. Tren lepas ni dua puluh minit lagi baru sampai“. The information he wanted, with a rough estimate of the train’s ETA was an appropriate response to me. It satisfied my newfound friend and he groaned at the time he would have to wait.

At heart we are all the same. Who doesn’t groan upon missing a train?

The man began feeling his way forwards once more and asked me if there were seats around. I told him yes, and offered to lead him there. He held out his hand, but I proved my incompetence a second time (I will explain the possibly unnoticed first later) as I began gently steering him to the seats by using my hand to guide his back.

To lead a blind man, it is best to take his hand. Especially if he holds it out.

And so I made sure he had a seat and retreated a slight distance, but on hand just in case further information was required. Taken by what had just transpired, I decided to message Atif on my phone-possibly the only guy who would and could comprehend fully what I just experienced. I told him what happened. As I hoped, he immediately responded to the bitter circumstances of the situation. And predictably (bleh to you Atif=p) he also began praising my actions in helping the blind guy, saying I was nice and sweet and all that lol.

To this I say: in helping him, I did not prove that I was kind and good.

I merely avoided being evil.

Think about it people. This is what Atif had to say-how could a blind man be allowed by his family or relatives to head to Subang all by himself? True, very true. He definitely had some business there-people to meet or aquaintances to see; why was he alone? The guy couldn’t even get his way onto the platform without negotiataing at least fifty dangers every second. what if he was mugged? What if he fell over in the middle of the platform? What if he fell….onto the tracks four feet down below? And what if no one knew he fell since the platform was deserted?

But let us scrutinize our lucky selves here. Look at us, taking what we have for granted. How many of us are actually REALLY grateful that we have functional oculars? And imagine if we didn’t….imagine it if we were like that poor man I met. You, random you-the reader….if I took away your eyes and handed you a cane, would you be able to find your way onto a train headed to Subang? There are six bloody platforms for goodness’ sake. Can you do it? I know I can’t. I am upstairs at home, using the computer. If I closed my eyes just for the hell of it, and tried to find my ways downstairs for a drink, I’m sure I’d fail miserably. At best probably laugh and stop. At worst, fall headlong down the stairs and break my pretty neck. So go on-

How would you buy a ticket? And how would you muster the courage to go and look for a person you aren’t even absolutely sure is there to ask him or her for assistance? And then when you got on the train, would you be able to find your behind a seat? It would be better if you didn’t actually, and just hung by the door-then you could be bumped by every individual that comes aboard but be guaranteed of being able to find the door when the time comes to disembark. Right?

And look at me guys. My second mistake was to not take his hand. What was my first? I don’t know if the blind guy noticed it, but I failed to stop my innate nature of gesturing to him as I spoke. Gesturing-how insensitive when the guy can’t even see my face inches away from his.

And my third-I only realized this when I began articulating my SMS to Atif. I almost typed the verb “kesian” when trying to explain whyI helped the guy. Sympathy. These people do not want sympathy. They want assistance, yes, and the package includes acknowledgment of them as individuals in their own right; just like us, sans the feeling of pity and pittance. Sympathy is an emotion that removes what dignity the sympathee still has as the sympathizer comes to his or her aid.

I helped the guy get on his train to Subang. My stop was before his, and just before I left the train I took a last glance at him. I learned a lot that day. Thank God I have eyes, though they might be shortsighted, I can still bloody SEE. So can you if you’re reading this. Be grateful, be thankful, and remember to empathize, not sympathize.

And as I walked back to Ridzuan, a final thing happened to make me sure that all this was not just some bizarre coincidence-I put on my iPod, selected the random song function, and hit the play button.

Empathize-

The damn thing selected a song by Travis.

Not sympathize.

And it was titled Eyes Wide Open.