"I'm going to City Harvest Church in Jurong West. Do you know the place?," the young man asked politely.
"Yes, I certainly do. This church is very famous in Singapore". I answered with a smile.
He boarded my taxi at Jurong Point Shopping Mall, a short distance to the church. Short, long distance, it doesn't make a difference to me. You don't get to pick and choose your fares. Taxi drivers are like debris moving with the current of the river, with no destination of their own.
"Will it take long to reach the church?" he asked with a Malaysian accent. "I need to be there before 7pm."
"Hard to tell at this peak hour, with lots of traffic," I answered for what should be less than ten minute ride. "You might be a bit late."
He look scholarly with black rim glass and neat hair in his early twenties. He sat quietly at the back with what looks like a bible in his hand. I couldn't tell for sure, but I sense he was studying me.
"You speak and look different from other drivers," he said. "You seem at peace with yourself, calmer and happier. The other drivers all seem in a hurry and angry."
Frankly, I wasn't surprised at his comments. I knew from years of existence that whenever someone wants to sell you something, they would give you a nice pat on the shoulder and then begin their sales talk. I wasn't going to take his bait and get hooked.
"Most drivers work 10-hours a day, five or six days a week", I explained. "They have a hard life. They don't have much time with their family. They're usually tired and understandably a little grouchy.
"Yes, of course. I understand" he said, in an appreciative tone.
"Do you believe in God?" he asked, in his next breath.
Oh, no, I told myself, he's one of those guy who knock at my door on early Sunday morning to force me out of bed. He will be a pain in my neck.
"You really what to know?", I replied with a cheeky grin.
"Yes, please tell me, Uncle", he implored.
"I don't believe in one God but many Gods. But at times, none at all"
"Don't you get confused? Who will guide you to which heaven after you die? he asked.
Now I was feeling weird, annoyed and definitely in a hurry.
"No, I'm never confused. I don't know and I don't care what happens to me after I die. Right now, I believe in doing only whatever is right " I said.
"Who and what guide you spiritually?" he began to preach.
"Simple," I said. "I just lead a simple life and don't think too deeply into to many things. I try to make the most of every day and treat other people as I want them to treat me," I said.
"Well, not bad," he said. At this point I was expecting him to hand over a pamplet or launch into some passage of scripture.
Instead, he asked softly "Could I be your friend?"
"No," I said sternly. "You can find many like-minded friends inside the church."
Soon, we reached the church and I was relieved. Whatever this guy wanted, whatever he needed he wasn't going to get from me.
He paid me, opened the door and said, "Thank you. Come in whenever you're ready. God bless."
As I drove away from that church hunting for my next fare, many unpleasant thoughts of C.H.C. floated through my simple mind. For one, to use the name of God to fulfill one selfish agenda is definitely wrong and yet in this century, many are still so gullible, to say the least. Here is a confession of believer in CHC's leaders. (Link)
Sun Ho's China Wine
Diary of a Singaporean Cabby
* With a family to support, becoming jobless at 55 is a nightmare in Singapore. Unable to find a suitable job, I became a taxi driver. My real life stories may seem trivial and my views may lack substances of a learned professor, but I shall write without inhibition. In sharing my thoughts, love for music and food, I hope my blog will be more pleasurable. More importantly, I blog to make a dull job a bit more interesting. The author blogs at http://cabby65.blogspot.sg/