The Thirsty Entrepreneur
By: Zander Widjaja
Tags: Prose, Singapore, Short Story, General Paper, Reflections

This was it, this was the time that he had been waiting for his whole life. All of his performances, as they said, were for the sake of abandonment. The ephemerality of life, the fleeting nature of it, necessitated that he lived fast and burned free, lest he would die a slow and miserable death.

The glamour of an entrepreneur, a protégé of his era, emerged from the depths of Silicon Valley. He had created an online platform which united the world, and connected all of us.

It was his dream, to build a company and to sell it off.

This was success, this was being the victor, this was conquering life. A defiance from reality, revolting against all odds,.

Golden shimmering confetti lined the sleek modernistic walls of the convention hall where the acquisition took place.

He looked around and saw dark crystal circles staring vigilantly at him; in the centre of them, lay polygonal sheets of black that twitched every few moments. The cameras were watching.

“Sir, how do you feel? Knowing that your company has been bought over by Mortem holdings.”

“It feels as though my dreams have come to fruition; within the years of my youth, I was able to create something so tremendous which impacted the world. I think it is time that I let it go. “

“Well said sir”, the host turned to address the audience,“At the forefront of innovation, he has pushed technological boundaries don’t you all agree?” A thunderous applause filled the air.

“I think I do serve as a role model to the rest; follow in my footsteps if you do wish to make it one day. Hard and smart work has always brought me to the highest of places.”

“And that’s the end of the show.”

Wasted and beleaguered by the lights of success, he made his way home, taking refuge in the soft solitude of his bed. He had planned to travel the next day and take the entire year off after the acquisition of his company. A reward for his efforts, a sweet and deserved self-indulgence. He fell asleep hastily.

The night faded away and the light of day pierced through his windows. The sun seared his eyes and tried to wake him from his dream.

Looking in the mirror, he saw a chiseled physique, a fine human specimen that was running at peak condition. Somehow, amidst the arduous working hours, he was able to maintain his vigour and youthful exuberance.

He searched his refrigerator to find his sweet ice lemon tea. He had depended on the tea to start his mornings. It had become a routine for him to siphon ¬it at daybreak.

His luggage lay in his dining hall, which was 2 floors down, away from the master’s bedroom. In a country like Singapore, it was hard to have these kinds of inconveniences.

A small Malay family leisured outside the residence of the wealthy entrepreneur. They had lived a couple blocks down in a small run-down apartment. There a decrepit man sat on a personal mobility device and scooted along whilst the sound of his grandchildren playful cheers echoed along.

They drank water, and their bottles were filled to the brim with it. The little boys kicked a ball around as they accompanied their grandfather to the supermarket.

The old man appeared to float along the streets, despite his seemingly sorry state.

The entrepreneur took little notice of them, brushing them off as mere commoners — they were lazy and poor he thought — and with his bulky baggage, he entered the taxi that was scheduled for him. Just as he stepped into the taxi, the tanged aftertaste of the sweet iced lemon tea was brought to his attention. It tasted like regret.

As the taxi drove him to the airport, he tried to rid the unpleasant taste. After labouring his tongue, scraping off the residual flavour, he cleared part of the taste. However, it was rather stubborn and could not be fully cleansed.

He was going to travel to the seven wonders of the world, free from his country’s illiberal policies. He thought that, with the change of environment, he would finally be able to get some perspective on life and ‘succeed’ as an individual.

He was going to be an intrepid traveller, he was going to travel the world. …..

As he stepped in, the taxi took off and descended down the hill.

They tracked the movement of the metal construction until eventually, it was out of sight.

The eyes of the grandfather lit up with a sparkle as he saw his grandchildren playing along the roadside. Even though he couldn’t count the times that he saw this scene, the thought of his grandchildren living in a safe and pleasant life in Singapore had always filled his heart with joy.

When he was a child, he did not have many luxuries( similar to the entrepreneur), but he did have family. That was what kept him going, even through those tough times during the war.

The day was made slow and sweet by the joyful laughter of his children.

No matter how playful the children were, his warm heart was always there to pick them up whenever they fell. Those soft eyes watched from a distance.

It was a very warm day and he was beginning to feel thirsty

He grabbed the well of water, kept in his bottle, and popped the cap off, incrementally tipping it, so that the silky water could flow down and quench his soul

And now as he neared the end of his life, the decrepit man awaited his demise with a smile.