Ever tried transporting the infamous 'king of fruits' across borders through public transport? I just did.
My home is 7 hours coach ride, half an hour train ride, and 15 mins bus ride (with the agonising traffic jam included) away from school. My hyprocytic empathy goes to all who crossed paths with me.
It all started with the durian feast at home...mmMmmMm. I don't care what non-fans may say, but for me durian is luxury food, plus it has a tag that says 'home' on it. When it was time to leave, my mom thought how nice it would be to bring a piece of home to my sister who is also in SG, so she packed it tupperwares and a wrapped thme up in plastic bags, and I put them in my zip-up bag.
If only home could smell less...strong.
The coach ride wasn't that bad...i think. I only had to spray fragrantless deoderant whenever we had a toilet pit stop and no one else is in the coach to discover who the culprit was. The deoderant was more an act to sooth my conscience than of any practical use. No one complained as far as I can tell, not even the nice Cantonese speaking Indian lady seating beside me, so maybe I'm making a mountain out of a molehill. But the bunch of young people did stayed off the coach during the pit stop until it was just about to leave...hmmm. Well thanks to the vidoes, no one seemed to notice anything.
And so things was okie...until I arrive in Singapore. Amazingly no one at the customes made a fuss. Then came the first bus ride. That was easy, just stuff the bag under your seat, sit still and will the smell not to come out. Yah right, like that would work.
Hey who knows, maybe no one would even notice. Oh but the auntie who sat next to me shifted herself to the seat across the aisle. Then she look at me and smile a kind, heartfelt smile. O..kie. No, I don't know what to think either.
Four bus stops later, I was at the MRT station. Great it's open air I can safely inspect my bag without drawing the entire city's attention to myself. By now the entire contents of my bag smells of stale fruit.
Great. More deoderent. Hope for the best.
Never in my life had I dreaded the smell of durian so much, nor was I ever so grateful for every wraft of occasional perfume from an MRT passenger. You know, the smell of durian must either be very strong or non-existant to be pleasant; anything in between is just...pungent.
When i sat down and did that stuff-the-bag-under-with-all-your-wishful-hopes trick again, I caught the uncle on the opposite row looking at me. It wasn't an annoyed look, wasn't an angry look, not even a...you know...look. It was just a long look.
A wraft of the smell, then train intercomm announces, 'If you see any suspicious person...or article...'
There were many times when out of habit I would whisper, 'Lord, please let the smell not come out.'
I could almost hear Him say, 'But I designed it to smell.'
The criminal is now in her room, having dinner, waiting for her laundry to smell good again.
She sincerely apologises to the half of SG who is probably cursing her right now. She would NEVER EVER recommend it to anyone much less herself to try it again, but if anyone were to join her in her shameless stunt for the same purpose, let me tell you that the rewards will be sweet. ^^ Imagine her sister's delight when she presents her with a piece from home!
Just one catch...it still takes a bus ride to get to my sis's.
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