The price of happiness

The conversation started with the car in front. About how slow it was going. And in the 10 seconds we took to drive pass it, we came up with 10 different reasons.

“Singaporeans ah, we all break the traffic rules one, I tell you,” uncle gesticulated with one hand, “even me la,” he admitted, “I also talk on the phone when I drive sometimes.” He went on to share with me an idea he had – one that had traffic police taking taxis to nab traffic offenders.

“They’ll never see it coming, and taxis are everywhere,” he told me conspiratorially. I agreed. It is a pretty good idea. I told him he should submit it for consideration.

I told him I was just back from Australia, and he asked if I was thinking of migrating. “Hmm, probably not,” I said, “my family is here so I would rather stay here.”

“Why?” he said, “if you have a chance, I say just go. Things are less stressful, life is better.” I then told him that my family is important to me, family life is something central to me. He replied, “if my children can be 20% like you, that will be enough.” He shook his head.

Then uncle started sharing with me some life lessons. “Miss, when you find a guy, find a good one who 顾家 (takes care of the family). They’re very rare, you can hardly find any already. Most people nowadays ah, always go out and party. Buy bags la, food la, club la. But I tell you, real happiness cannot be bought. It is something that comes from the heart.”

I thought he made a lot of sense. At least to me.

We arrived then at my destination. I said goodbye and thank you.

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