Thursday, June 11, 2015

Daphne

My brother-in-law and his wife put us up while we were in Melbourne. I noticed something interesting in the city - people (mostly the elderly) moved around with their own trolleys to carry their belongings. My husband and I saw a lady pushing her trolley while exiting the supermarket. She was really old, maybe in her 80's or 90's, and was walking in the slowest possible pace. While another old lady (younger than her though) gave her some space to pass through, I took a quick glance at the trolley. It was a box with the symbol of a bat on it, exactly like the Bacardi logo. I was wondering why someone so old would want to buy a carton of Bacardi breezers during winter, which compelled me to move my gaze to the box's contents. There was a purse and what looked like a sweater or a jacket. I looked at her face - she seemed to be in pain. I called my husband's attention to it and asked him if we should help her, and if it was a good thing to let old people go about such activities on their own. In spite of the infrastructure in developed countries allowing the aged to be independent, I found the whole "senior citizens living alone" thing to be a bit sad, especially when I thought about my parents in the same situation. My husband, on the other hand, pointed out that it was better for old people to carry on with their daily jobs on their own, however slowly, rather than having them lean on their family or friends for support. I agreed with him eventually, and the topic was forgotten once we were home.
 
About 45 minutes later, my sister-in-law accompanied me to the mall. It was my last day in Melbourne, and I still had some shopping left. After crossing a few houses on our way to the tram station which was near the supermarket, we saw an ambulance outside one of the houses. Two paramedics were attending to a woman who was lying flat outside her doorstep, and a couple of youngsters (I'm guessing neighbors who called the ambulance) were looking on. My sister-in-law said, "Oh my God, I hope she's okay." I asked her if she knew her. She replied, "Yes, that's Daphne. She's been living all by herself after her husband's death. She spent her childhood in India and came to Melbourne in 1959. I speak to her in the supermarket sometimes. She's really old, you know. She cannot always maintain pace with her trolley, so she puts a couple of bricks in it to slow it down."
 
As she was telling me about her, I couldn't help but pause for a few seconds to notice something familiar - the trolley that the old lady possessed. It was a box with the symbol of a bat on it, exactly like the Bacardi logo.

Ode to a Mannequin

Lo and behold, I'm a mannequin!
I speak in dialects with no din.
Adorned in colors and fabrics diverse,
I beckon you to empty your purse.

19 months old, my white begins to peel;
She who dressed me says I cannot heal.
A dark and dingy storeroom is my new home;
I peep through a crack when I feel alone.

And then I see you! What a fine day!
She sells you garments in a coaxing way.
I cry out in dialects with no din;
Alas, I'm just a mannequin!