As Gaelle and I hurried through the colossal crowd along Bukit Bintang Road, trying to cross the T-junction before the red light hit our sight, heading to Snowflake Sungei Wang just to visit Jerome, we were showered with slight disappointment as our breath-catching marathon effort did not paid up.
And so, fate had answered my query as we stood before the traffic light, as in why God don't let us pass through for I tried to hurry the whole visiting effort so that i can get home asap before my phone start ringing impatiently with Home as the caller ID. It's 10.15pm. While the night seemed to be forever young in the lively yet raucous KL streets with pouring notorious looking youths, middle-aged adults with large hole in the middle of their head holding hands with sizzling young lass, frowning middle east immigrants looking intense in their eyes, a sudden shrill shriek from across the street broke my deep ponder of a list of answers on the FAQs by my parents when i reach home. I once naively convinced myself that KL street is still innocuous as long as the clock has yet to strike at 11pm.
That particular scream, told me something was amiss. And from the spot we were standing, we witnessed a man on his motorbike incessantly swinging up and down something looked like a light saber on another bloke. The walkway soon clustered with curious onlookers, all were too stunned to make a move only to watch. When the light turned green, Gaelle and I hurried to unveil our curiousness just like anyone else. To our surprise, as soon as the man on the bike fled, the victim lied down weakly on the road with blood oozing out from his leg. Gaelle was truly aghast but i was more shocked with my own reaction. Guess the so called light saber was actually a long parang slashing the man's leg vengefully.
I was emotionless. Such scene can just easily been wiped off my memory. Not flabbergasted at all probably because i have mentally prepared myself in this sick society of such incident by the daily tabloid. I can easily shrug it off as it is clearly none of my business ans i'm not the one harmed.
However, for i thought i was immune with such incident, my thought was deeply perturbed which left me frowning all the way home in the train. Why why why were the things that popped up in my mind. Why did he just did that on him? Why didn't anyone help the victim? Why did the authorities or the so called street police that was increased under the 1Malysia Transformation Programme didn't seemed to be helping at all? Indeed disappointing.
And my self-thought bubble was impaled by a pleading voice of a toothless old man asking for some pennies. Involuntarily, i felt like donating him RM2 which is a practice i seldom do nowadays as skepticism grew thanks to the revelation done by the tabloid on the unscrupulous scam of beggars with pitiful and severely retarded face and physique begging in the street which the truth is their appearance are deliberately crippled so as to gain more mercy from the public which eventually gain them more pennies. However, every cent they earned goes into the pocket of the mastermind. Such awareness reminded myself not to simply simpathise beggar. Maybe i was trying to console myself, and so i donated RM5 instead as i did not have small change.
When i reached home, it was still a disturbing clip playing in my mind that failed me to concentrate on my novel. In the end, i turned into GLEE which clear my mind with much colour and laughter.
God bless Malaysia and its city and also the victim though he is not local.
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