The Choices We Make In Life

He was aged. He wasn't ripe with backache, knee and joint pains but you know he was aged because he had a few grey streaks of hair colouring his crowning glory. It certainly had a certain gleam of glory; it was shining in the sun.

Ah, yes. The morning sun. Ten years ago, at 9.45AM the sun would have been safe for skin consumption - teachers recommended standing under the sun until 10AM for our daily dose of Vitamin D. Our Physical Education lessons would usually end at 10AM, and it was safe to proceed even until 11AM.

But today, it was barely 9.45AM and the sun had started scorching the skin.

His skin was reddish - I assumed it was due to prolonged exposure under the sun. His back was turned towards me; I couldn't get a glimpse of his facial features. Race, you ask? He may have been Malay, judging by his skin colour. But these days anyone could look Malay. And honestly, who cares, and why should we?

What mattered to me most was that cat he was holding in his arms, held above his own eye level, held above his crowning glory, the mat of greyish black hair that was gleaming in the sun. A fat cat. He moved the cat slowly, and just like a father would do to his son, he gently placed the cat next to his face and whispered into its ears. Amidst the morning traffic and shouts of passerbys I couldn't make out what he was saying. But even from his back, you could see that look of love. There was a certain sense of tenderness in the way he held the cat that could have easily been mistaken for love.

Oh, and the cat! What pride it held within itself to be held by its owner that way. It looked up to the morning sun, and for one moment the scenario reminded of me ancient Egypt, when Pharaohs would mourn for the loss of their cats by shaving their eyebrows and many other extreme measures. What power these feline creatures had.

I walked past a woman selling currypuffs and many other assorted local delicacies and kueh. I recognised a few, and tried recalling their names.

I smiled. It was a morning under blistering hot sun, but it was certainly a sunny day. I could feel my heart smiling from beneath my breasts, beating against my ribcage gently.

In our daily lives, we make too many excuses to justify ourselves, to justify our decisions and the things we do. I came to a realisation that it was just that - we've gotten so used to making justifications that we have become experts at conjuring new excuses. I have no time, I'm too tired, I can't, I can't, I can't. I just can't.

But if a grandmother can pick up dancing at the age of 70, what excuse do you have?

If a mother of five with a full time job can find time to cook lunch and dinner everyday, why can't you?

If a husband with a busy schedule can find time to make love (and I mean, make love) to his wife every night, what is your excuse?

If there are people who love and enjoy their jobs, why aren't you? Simply perhaps you're not doing what you love to do.

If others can find time to read, why can't you?

If people can be happy, why aren't you?

It all boils down to a matter of CHOICE. Even making excuses and justifications become tiring after a while. It's all a matter of CHOICE. We have that CHOICE to start doing something we love, even if we think it's too late, or to just forget about it and live our lives with regret. We have that CHOICE to appreciate those around us, or to ignore them and to live our lives with regret. We have a CHOICE to manage our time well, or to continue giving excuses about not having enough time. We have that CHOICE to be happy in the simple things in life, or to find fault in all that we do.

I made my choice today. What is YOURS?