By Ng Kwan Hoong
After a heavy downpour one afternoon, I found myself walking across a narrow bridge over Sungai Pantai in UM. The water below churned with mud and broken branches, and every now and then, something unexpected floated by — a shoe, a leaf, a crushed plastic bottle — each swept along by the same relentless current.
I stopped for a moment to watch. The river was in a hurry to go somewhere. And then, as if on cue, the familiar tune of Simon & Garfunkel’s 1970 ‘Bridge Over Troubled Water’ surfaced quietly in my mind.
“When you’re weary, feeling small,
When tears are in your eyes, I will dry them all;
I’m on your side when times get rough,
Like a bridge over troubled water, I will lay me down.”
Standing there, the bridge beneath my feet seemed to transform. It was no longer just steel and concrete. It became something living — a metaphor for what we all need when life’s waters rise: something or someone strong enough to hold us steady, and kind enough to let us cross.
When life gets rough
There are moments when the weight of the world presses heavily on our shoulders. Plans fail, health falters, dreams lose their shine, or loneliness creeps in quietly at the edges. These are our troubled waters. Even the most resilient among us can feel unsure of where to step next.
As Cicero, the Roman orator, statesman, and philosopher once wrote, “Friendship improves happiness and abates misery, by the doubling of our joy and the dividing of our grief.” In those fragile moments, the true meaning of friendship becomes clear. A real friend doesn’t just walk with us when the path is easy and the sky is blue. They stay when the wind howls. They remind us that we are not alone — that even in the storm, there is a bridge beneath our trembling feet.
We often think friendship is about grand gestures — celebrations, gifts, shared adventures. But most of the time, it reveals itself in quiet, unassuming ways. A message that simply says, “Are you okay?” A voice on the phone that stays a little longer than usual. A presence that needs no words.
Think back to a time when you were overwhelmed by grief, illness, or the loss of someone dear. Perhaps there was a friend who didn’t try to fix anything, who simply sat beside you — in silence, but with warmth. That was your bridge. Their kindness did not remove the flood, but it steadied your steps so you could move forward again. Such presence is a rare and gentle grace.
Becoming the bridge
Yet friendship is never a one-way crossing. Just as we need bridges, we are called to become one for others. Sometimes that means stepping into another’s pain, even when it makes us uncomfortable. Other times, it is about holding space for someone else’s silence, trusting that our stillness is enough.
George Eliot captured it beautifully: “Oh, the comfort, the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person… of pouring them all out — just as they are.” That is the gift of true friendship — the bridge of trust, presence, and love that holds firm even when everything else feels uncertain.
A bridge does not remove the troubled waters below it; it simply allows safe passage above them. It remains unmoving, even when the current rages. To be a bridge for another is to lay aside our comfort for their need, to lend our steadiness when theirs is shaken. It connects hearts that might otherwise drift apart and restores faith when hope feels distant.
We step onto a bridge because we trust it will hold. True friendship rests on that same trust — the quiet assurance that someone will not let us fall. And that, in itself, is a blessing from God.
“If you need a friend,
I’m sailing right behind.
Like a bridge over troubled water,
I will ease your mind.”
The song endures across generations because it speaks to something deeply human — the longing to know that when we falter, someone will help carry us. Friendship is about that presence, that willingness to stay when staying is hard.
So when the waters rise and the current feels too strong, remember the people who once became bridges for you. And when you see someone struggling to cross their own river, be that bridge for them.
Because in the end, it is the bridges we build for one another that make life’s journey not only bearable, but profoundly beautiful.
“Like a bridge over troubled water,
I will lay me down.”
The author is an Emeritus Professor of Biomedical Imaging at the Faculty of Medicine, Universiti Malaya.