Shut-eye

Indian-Malay man. After twelve months some confidence in the identifications. 

Indian usually means southern Tamil in the context of Singapore, certainly for the longer settled. Perhaps one of the parents or grandparents Sumatran, rather than the often heavier set Javanese. It is the latter who predominate here among the Malays—another wide umbrella term that can be quite tricky. 

There is much to be said on the "Malays". Best left to the anthropologists.

This particular man hangs two or three days a week around the front pillar at the tables on the ground floor of Geylang Serai. Hangs almost literally in this case. In that posture an observer can't help feeling the chap is faking it somehow, something untoward in the display, as if the request for coin will follow.

A fellow some years younger has just delivered a teh, unasked it seems.

Chain-link gold watch and band must be a drag on that slim, spare and bony arm. 

Clean white polo with the pocket holding a clutch of pens. Well into his seventies, if not tipped beyond. 

The solicitude of his benefactor was indicative. 

Such a spare, supple frame will hold him in good stead.

The right foot down on the yellow seat, over-shooting the edge and curled to give himself good purchase. Left bent across the other's thigh and hand more often than not bracing. Thin and short as he appears, bundled up compactly like this the limbs give an impression of elongation. Some of the contortions in the figures in the Hindu temples spring to mind.

Almost certainly no aircon back home. The nights are getting warm again, durian season upon us, the crowds filling the outdoor tables in upper Geylang that specialise in the fruit, the King, or Sultan of fruits, as the fans have it. 

Here the morning breeze fluting at the Indian-Malay's back gives the old man some relief. Most people at the eatery sit facing the street taking the air on their faces. 

Always clean and closely shaven, a daily ritual. Perhaps there had been a uniform of some kind during his working life.

Chin on sternum, nodding occasionally at a slight shift of weight. The right hand carries two heavy rings set with the usual stones. Resting the other with the watch a factor in the distribution of weight in that posture. 

In all the encounters, all the sightings at Geylang Serai—at Geylang Serai and no-where else—never a once seen this chap with his feet on the ground, never mind ambulatory.