The blistering sun scorched the pavement with its angry rays, never letting up.

A gust of hot wind

howled through the streets, kicking up bits of rubbish in its path and depositing them miles away.
Short distinct shadows were cast on the pavement as an old lady squatted down, picking up empty
cans. Beads of perspiration materialised on her skin as the merciless sun blinded her eyes and
burned her skin. This had been her routine at the bin centre outside our school gates for the past
weeks.
It was the end of the school day and, being prefects, Karen and I were at our usual post at
the school gates making sure that the students left orderly. What a pitiful sight, Karen said as she
nodded in the direction of the old woman. I glanced at the old woman, and agreed silently. She
looked as if she hadnt taken a shower for days, and her clothes were all tattered and stained. I had
never really taken much notice of the old woman she was, after all, just another one of the many
poor city dwellers who went through their days foraging for unwanted items in the refuse bins. But,
ever since she appeared a few weeks ago, the old woman always looked into the school compound
through the wire mesh fence as if she was looking for something or someone. At least, that was
what Karen had told me she had noticed. She was the soft-hearted one, always rescuing some stray
cat or dog.
Filthy and disgraceful. That was how I saw the poor. I sometimes made fun of my less-
privileged schoolmates and Karen always chided me for teasing them. However, I did not care. I was
a prefect, my teachers loved me, and my friends liked me. How could I be considered snobbish if
people liked me?
One day, Karen made the silliest remark ever. She said that I looked just like the old woman,
and that we must be related, that she could even be my mother. I nearly fainted. I knew for certain
that it was impossible. Dad had told me that Mom had died when I was three, and ever since then he
was the one who had been taking care of me. I found the suggestion such an insult that I did not talk
to Karen for days.
I found out later that during that period, the old woman had approached Karen and had
talked to her. This went on for a few days. Their conversations were cordial, but mostly trivial. Karen,
being her usual caring self, had wanted to know more about the old woman, but whenever Karen
broached the subject of the old womans past, she clammed up and changed the subject.
This changed, however. While Karen was waiting for her bus after school one day, she and
the old woman started talking as usual. Then, all of a sudden without any prompting, the old woman
related her past to Karen.
She had been a very successful business lady once. Always busy, all she thought about was
how to expand her seafood export business. She had little time for her family. Her husband, who had
patiently endured her absences, finally decided to leave when she forgot all about her daughters
second birthday. Her husband took custody of their child, but the divorce hardly bothered her.
Wealth was her life partner then.
In her greed, she decided to gamble to get even more money. She won much money, but
lost even more. Once her savings were depleted, she borrowed money from loan sharks to feed her
addiction. Over time, she gambled away all her riches. Penniless, and without a roof over her head,
she roamed the streets, begging and scavenging for scraps of food. In her destitution, she realised
then how foolish she had been. She had had a beautiful family, but she had let them go. She was
ashamed of herself.
She took a few odd jobs but she could not keep them. She resorted to picking up empty
aluminium cans to earn a meagre living. She lived in a makeshift shelter made of cardboard boxes in
an alleyway. She lived like this for a couple of years. Then, wanting to make amends she decided to
search for her daughter. Using the little money she had saved, she used it to look for her daughter.
After years of searching, she finally found that her daughter was attending one of the Convent
schools in the city. That was why she was always outside our school. She had seen her daughter.
The old woman paused and bowed her head. Then, her whole body wracked with sobs.
Karen kept silent and gently put a hand on the womans shoulder. Its your friend, the old woman
said to Karen in between sobs. Renee, shes my daughter
I was only told of all these things a week later. Karen must have thought I would not have
been able to accept it, and she was right. When she finally gathered the courage to tell me after
school one day, I dismissed her story immediately. Rubbish, I said to her, my mothers dead. And
besides, why would I have a mother like that?
I saw the old woman outside the school gate looking in and rushed out to confront her.
What do you want from us, liar? Money? I glared at her and, taking out my purse, I threw a RM50
note at her. Here! Take this and stay away from me!
The woman just stood there quietly, her tired eyes looking directly at mine. A few moments
of uneasy silence passed between us, and then I noticed something. Her eyes they looked so
familiar. They reminded me ofmine. Slowly, I traced my eyes around the rest of her face the high
cheekbones, the small slender nose, the thin lips they were all aged, and covered with grime, but
they were all unmistakably mine.
I felt dizzy and did not know what to do. So, I ran to my waiting car and asked the driver to
drive me home immediately. The journey felt like an eternity.
Dad, is it true? I was standing at the doorway to his study. It was already late evening, and
I had not had the courage to ask him earlier when I had arrived home. But, I wanted to know.
What is, honey? Dad replied, his eyes still focused over some papers he held in his hands.
About Momdying when I was three.
At that, Dad put down the papers, took off his reading glasses and looked at me. What is
this about, sweetheart?
Then, I told him about everything. About the old woman who started scavenging at my
schools bins these past few months. About Karens encounter with her, and her subsequent
disclosure of who she was. About my own discovery of how alike we looked.
Dad listened silently as I spoke, and he remained silent when I finished. He shifted uneasily
in his chair, and let out a sigh. No, it isnt.
It is amazing how three words can change your life so dramatically and so suddenly. At one
point, my mother was dead, and then in the next instant, she was not. I did not have a mother, and
then, I suddenly did. I hated it that Dad had lied to me all the while, but I eventually managed to see
the whole scenario from his perspective and forgave him.
All this while, career, money and success were my life goals. But, perhaps, there is something more
to look forward to than a great overseas education and a promising career. Now, I can look forward
to a new life a life with my very own mom. Perhaps, every dark cloud does have a silver lining. I
have certainly found mine.