Yesterday, as I was returning home from church at 9.45 pm, i ran into a traffic jam on the AYE. As it turned out, there had been an accident involving a motorcycle which had just happened. As I passed by the accident area, I witnessed a solitary body lying on the asphalt ground, shrouded by what looked like a black cloth made from the same material as the common thrash bags. Nearby, a few policemen were leaning against their patrol car, probably taking stock of the event that has just happened while waiting for the hearse to come and collect the lifeless body.
It was one thing to know that many die on the road, but it was quite another to be there when a tragedy such as this happened. I imagine that somewhere in Singapore, an elderly mother or a young wife would be striken with grief when the inevitable phone call arrived to deliver the grim news. The repercussions when a life is brought to an abrupt end were beyond my comprehension.
There on the asphalt lay the remains of a human being who, probably a few hours before, had plans for his life and people who depended on him. Now all of that were gone; death has a finality that gave no second chances.
I know neither the hour that death would visit me, nor the manner in which he will. But the grim scene that unfolded before my very eyes brought home the reality that death is no respecter of persons.
Time is a limited commodity that should be well-utilised so that the life that remains would count for something.
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