How I Feel On First Day of Ramadan

Dear Diary,

It is the first day of Ramadan today and I am already dreaming of drinking a can of chilled coke. I started the day with 'sahur' and then I slept some more for a few hours. I did my laundry and house cleaning. I changed my bed sheet and did another round of laundry. It was a sweaty day to begin with and I could only think of a can of chilled coca cola. Yes, it was a test and my imagination started to get wild. 

While I was doing my laundry, I noticed there were a few drops of water coming from the apartment upstairs. The water drops seemed to come from a hand washed clothes that was not so well dried. It is different when you use the washer to spin dry the clothes. The clothes are damp but there will not be a drop of water coming from them after hang. I knew this could be the case of hand washed clothes. As I watched the window, the droplets became more and fast. I brought in my clothes and noticed that there were a few patches of water on them. 

I tried to look out of the window but the sun was glaring and I decided to check from downstairs. I was a bit irritated as it is simply inconsiderate for people to do this. I had not showered and my hair looked like I had ridden on a motorcycle without a helmet at 150 km/h. I combed my hair to make it look neat, washed my face and brush my teeth. I went downstairs and looked at where it was coming from. It was from the tenth floor. I took the lift and pressed number 10. In my mind, I was wondering who it could be as this kind of thing had long been uncommon. People have become civic minded and considerate nowadays. There are many campaigns organised by the government to combat issues like this.

When I was young, I remember how the lifts and staircases in flats are usually vandalised with graffiti and human's urine. I recall how my mother used to have the same problem of water dripping onto our freshly washed clothes hang outside the kitchen's window because some neighbours living above us did not have the common sense to even think of simple physics like that. It really does not take a genius to figure that. Singaporeans dry their clothes like that. The government provided us with bamboo poles's holes outside the kitchen window so we can insert the bamboo there. We air and sun dry our clothes like that. Every Singaporean knows that and repeatedly we are aware not to throw any rubbish outside the window or hang the not so dry clothes if they are going to drip water. So who could this be?

Perhaps it must be some foreigners living here, as there has been mass influx of them. I got to the house and the outside of the house looks neat and tidy. Even tidier than mine. Shoes are placed on shoe racks but there were not many of them. I had the impression that this house could have a tidy, well-mannered civic-minded people living in them. I did not see any doorbell so I knocked on the door. No one answered. I knocked again harder. Still, no one answered. I knew someone must be inside otherwise the clothes would not be outside hanging. I did not show any signs of leaving. I was very adamant to educate these people. I saw the peephole and I looked at it. I could tell that its occupants peeped at the hole but simply did not want to answer the door. I knocked again even harder. It was a good 3 minutes until a young man with pimples on his face opened the door. The door made a cracking sound and I could tell that the house is clean. He just opened the door a little. 

Now I did not want to start at the wrong foot so I had to ask him politely as I could be wrong that this was the house responsible. 

"Hi, do you have a purple cloth or something hangs outside your window?" I asked.

"Hang on, let me check..." He immediately closed the door and perhaps went to the kitchen to check. He must have thought that I dropped my purple cloth from my window and it was stuck in his I figured.

I waited for quite some time and I begin to wonder if this man is going to open the door back or not. He did and he said it was just a purple blanket of his.

"Is it dripping water?" I asked not trying to sound accusing but just wanted to give him the reason why I was there. 

"I live a few stories under your apartment and I think it is dripping water onto my clothes. Can you remove it please?" I sounded polite but firm. Upon hearing that I immediately saw, the expression in his face to say that he just realised his mistakes. He apologised to me and promised to remove it. I thanked him and walked away, while walking, he managed to let out a small shout of apology to me. I looked back and smile. That was not so bad I thought to myself. 

When I got home, there was no more water dripping. I took out my laundry once again to dry and I feel good that it all turned out well. You see the thing about living in a society is that, we sometimes forget what our actions can do to others. Unless we live in the world alone, it is up to us what we do, as our actions have no consequences upon others. I suppose that is why the idea of living alone always fascinates me, no one to bug me and I have all the space and privacy in the world to myself. 

Mother and I are still not talking and I am ready for anything come what may. I feel a little left out especially during 'buka' at the dining table. Everybody talk about everything except me. Well, what do I have to talk about Diary? I have nothing to share except my failures. They do not even know that I ended myself in a warehouse trying to make a living. I earn so little that I cannot even buy myself toiletries. I would say that if the family were a fruit, it would be an orange, a circle of sections, held together but separable - each segment distinct. At that point, of time, I wish I were back in Subang Jaya living alone all by myself. I miss living there very much. No one would understand how I feel. I supposed some things are better left unspoken.