The ‘push’ forward 

I belong to the common breed that strongly believes there is most probably a strong reason, however incomprehensible, behind anything happening in life, at micro or macro levels. Acting against and other times in sync with free will. We often refer it also as the inner calling. And, in my understanding, the perfect fitting of the jigsaw pieces wouldn’t be clear until later in my life. In the end, it would only reaffirm my faith that destiny has its own plans for me. Or at least, it knows what I truly deserve, good or bad, often a mix of both, as is the case with most of us. Therefore, it pulls me back at the right moment to subsequently push me forward, as if pulling a large strong bow to let the arrow dart forward.

I had slowly started accepting the fact that healthcare wasn’t meant for me in the first place and that it was only one of the tiniest parts of my larger life. Then, it happened, as if pre-planned, in the latter part of 2022. After months of background checks, I got an opportunity to freelance at the Ministry of Manpower service centre as an interpreter based on my freelancing across sectors over two decades. 

Next year, based on my contribution, they offered me a full-time in-house role. It was not a direct hire, though, but I accepted it without hesitation. The push forward, which I realised only months later, turned out to be an important phase of my life.

Oh yes, I did receive criticism from various corners after I ‘gave up’ on my healthcare dream. Comments that wore an attractive colourful mask of ‘I’m consoling you’, ‘I’m comforting you’ were quicker to judge, based on their own beliefs. Their judging, as is human, sprouted from the stereotypical assumption that I ‘gave up’. I did give up, but after trying fully. My giving up could never reduce my intent, as I didn’t take it as some goal driven project but more as a short part of my lifelong learning. Seeing every step in life as a project and focussing only on its success, I think, leads people to judge. It requires no effort, and so it’s damn easy. Whereas, understanding the background better requires much effort, and people have no patience or time for such efforts. 

Interestingly, my new role suited my linguistic experience, and the best part of it was – I didn’t have any screens to stare at like I had when I worked as a journalist for three long years. Although I continue to, inevitably use gadgets, I have developed an aversion to screens, both small and large. Not that I’ve completely stopped using them, but I have certainly reduced my usage to a greater extent. I look at human faces to interpret, and that adds a little more life to this otherwise monotonous life. I help migrant workers communicate effectively. 

When I started work on June 1, 2023, I could almost hear my destiny behind me whispering into my ear, “I had a better plan for you, but you failed to feel it, and you didn’t belong there. Didn’t you want to serve people? Come on, get at it, this is your ground.” 

Usually, I dislike to preach or advise, but I’m truly tempted, only this time, to say to all the young, inexperienced, and confused folks out there – stop whining over your failures in your plans. As our aspiring thoughts get stronger and more intense, we get to see manifestations. Failures may, of course, happen, and we all know they are better teachers than successes. Though it sounds clichéd, it really is true, isn’t it?

Something better and more suitable might await you, believe me. And, all you need to do is stay alert to grab it when it appears. And also explore. Easier said?  Yes, I agree, absolutely. Nonetheless, that’s how we need to move forward, yes? Moving with the flow certainly helps.  

I had one pleasant revelation on the very first day of my work – I had not forgotten my conversational Hindi, even after decades. I thought I’d lost touch. Thanks, perhaps, also to the Hindi movies! I tried assisting with a case, but with a little hesitation. I liked the feeling of reviving the language that was dormant in me.  That’s how I became an interpreter in English, Tamil, and Hindi. My workplace is frontline customer service. 

Innumerable human hours and huge funds are being invested to ensure the welfare of migrant workers in Singapore. It is beyond what even a local can ever completely understand. The processes are so systematic and genuine. The exemplary measures taken to advise, guide, administer, and help migrant workers are so inclusive as to impartially accommodate their ignorance and inadequacies. Judicious officials cater to individual needs, going the extra mile to help migrant workers undergoing complacency driven issues or purposefully committed by companies and employment agencies. And, we can certainly never forget some of the erroneous migrant workers who create trouble for themselves and their companies. Sometimes knowingly, and other times unknowingly. So, it is not easy to help migrant workers with different issues and unique combinations of issues. It requires officers to handle each case, case by case to help while remembering all the mandatory rules in place.

I feel uniquely humbled to be helping them. We cannot forget here that only those with some issue knock on our door. They only make a small percentage, and the number of migrant workers surviving and working well is much larger. Thus, I’m getting to witness yet another world, that of migrant workers. I thought I knew something about it, only to realise that, within a month, I hadn’t known a thing about it. We often tend to overlook certain facts. Also, what we actually see as an outsider can be far from what reality is. 

Being the writer that am, I habitually to jot down but only the unique stories briefly, and I’ve already gathered hundreds of them and still counting. I’m sure I will soon come to a point where I will completely stop jotting down. It has been a year and a half now. I’m not touching any of the stories now, as I wouldn’t want any cursory, or lackadaisical sharing. The stories of migrant workers certainly deserve more respect than my casual journaling here.

While I feel I’ve been unearthing what I didn’t know I had deep in me, I also admire with awe the way work flows here, seamlessly with brilliant strategic rotation of roles within the teams through rosters.

I knew the demands of the role would naturally slow down the rewriting of my WIP novel chapters, but I told myself it was yet another phase for me to go with the flow. There have been such phases of reduced momentum in my reading and writing, a few times in the thirty years of my writing life. Holding on to a day job as I passionately cling to my writing has not entirely been new to me. I have been there, seen that even before. I’ve only been reading in bits and writing small texts during my lunch breaks. 

Just as my meetings with good old friends and past colleagues to catch up have greatly reduced, so has my keen indulgence in ‘my’ time, like painting and tree bathing. They wait for my weekend after the weekend, as they are tightly scheduled.

The ‘push forward’ most significant one in my life thus far has been better than I could’ve ever imagined. And running in a constant and continuous marathon, competing against the minute hand of the clock, has become my life. I love my job. And therefore, I’ve also accepted the routine of swinging between office and home, like a perfectly rhythmic pendulum, except perhaps, for the physical fatigue that sets in sooner every week. But the gratifying marathon continues.