A few stops after we got on, and old man got onto the bus and stumbled unsteadily onto one of the front seats. I remembered thinking how cheerful he look in his pink-and-blue top.

Aldran and I were happily chatting away and teasing two Middle Eastern kids with their father. Some 15 minutes after we got on the bus, the father got up and went to speak to the bus driver. It was only when he gestured to the old man that I realized something was wrong. The old man was slumped over with his head sharply bent forward, chin almost to his chest..

This bus of mine cuts through a hospital before it reaches my place. The bus driver stopped at the bus stop near the emergency department, and came out to try waking the old man up. He shook the old man, but got no response. By now, the other passengers started noticing the situation and called out suggestions to check the old man's pulse.

The driver walkied back to his headquarters, and they called the hospital to sent an ambulance.

I was frozen.. What if he was dead? I had been sitting there, life as usual, and someone has passed on in front of me without me even noticing? I didn't know what to feel.. Why didn't I see something wasn't right? Should I run out and try to get help from the A&E? I felt.. helpless, scared..

A young man walked up and tried to feel for a pulse. He said that he felt some breathing, but shallow. Not knowing what else to do, he went back and sat down.

Every minute felt like an hour.. When will the ambulance come? Should I go up to the old man? But what could I do.. What if I made him worse??

That was when a lady boarded the bus. I think she worked at the hospital. She took a seat and settled in comfortably, but it wasn't before long that she noticed the old man's situation.

The lady went over and felt for a pulse. From the look on her face, I could tell it wasn't good. She ran back in to one of the hospital buildings to get help.

Then out of nowhere, the ambulance finally arrived. Two medics boarded the bus and attended to the old man. The were really tall and looked strong, and one of them had a tattoo on his arm. They tried to lift the old man out of his seat. His head rolled and bumped into the wall of the bus with a thud..

Then they laid him onto the floor of the bus, and asked everyone to exit the bus. As I exited, I could hear them ripping his shirt open.

The sky was a deep blue by now, and the evening air was cold on my bare legs. We passengers bunched together at the bus stop, watching the scene unfold.

More and more medical staff started appearing, carrying different equipment. There was that lady passenger, more ambulatory staff, a doctor with a stethoscope around his neck.. I guess all the activity must mean that he was still alive. Finally, the staff lifted the old man out onto a stretcher and rushed toward A&E.

As we re-boarded the bus again later, I kept wondering if there was more I could've done.. If I hadn't hesitated but ran in to alert the staff, would help have come faster? Would the few precious minutes have made a difference?

At the same time, i was also thinking how strange life is, that the old man (if he made it, which I hope is the case) would never know how a random stranger saved his life. If no one saw him, it may well be an hour before the driver found him at the bus terminal!

I've felt the fear of dark nights, of helplessness but yet knowing that I can help keep myself safe by getting in before nightfall, and locking the house up well. But how can we ever lock death out? How does it feel in old age, to have death around the corner like an insidious thief, knowing nothing can keep out his claim over your most precious possession of life...?