An Interesting Conversation

My phone won't charge for two days. I don't know why but I suspected my charger port malfunctioned. I need to repair it asap. So, I went to a shop in a mall. The owner of the shop is a Chinese man named here as J. He's very friendly. He was troubleshooting the phone when a conversation started. At first, we were talking about DotA, games, coffee, and smoking. These are a few things that can get you addicted. And here's the interesting part.

I was curious about the construction of the mall. FYI, the mall is up for years already. The top management had an idea to extend the mall and build a lagoon. Well, the idea sure is cool. The area covers a lot of people from urban city to rural villages stretched long in a crowded space. Universities are near and many developments are coming up in town. The mall could get a big crown if the lagoon is ready. But the problem is, the construction was left for so long. The extension at the back of the mall now looked like a haunted building.

So, I asked him when will the construction resume. J said nobody knows. Perhaps there will never be a lagoon here. He drove his car at the basement carpark of the construction once and he told me it was flooded. Perhaps there are cracks. The beams and its iron steels are already rusted. It is near possible to continue working on the building from where it was left.

There were many complaints by the people who worked here. Many of them have left the mall. I guess the top management didn't care much about a lot of things. In fact, they're problematic as well (as far as I can see it, they are!). J was once almost got charged 200 ringgit because they said his shop was dirty. Two days ago I complimented his shop for its interior design. I don't think 'dirty' is a part of his design.

On the contrary, the mall is dirty and we both agreed to this. The stairs, escalators, and lifts are not clean. The toilets? He told me that I should use the toilets in the cinema section instead. LOL.

He wanted to complain but he didn't. It won't be great to put the heat on the top management on the cleanliness of the mall when at the end, the cleaners will get to do the job.

"At the end of the day, the makcik from kampung who will clean up everything. You know what? I don't like those people who smoke in the toilet here. They throw their cigarettes away anywhere they like and it always clogged up the holes and left the toilet floor flooded. I asked them la why don't you throw it away properly and they said then the makcik got job to do. You know those makcik clean up those holes with their bare hands? I told them if I give them a hundred to clean it, they won't do it. They diam after that."

I was left in silent. Not because I have nothing else to say. I agreed everything. But I thought so hard, I believed 'humanity is restored'. Yes. J is among many people who fought for little things but think so hard that it will not mess up.

My phone was all okay. Turned out that my cable was not okay so I bought a new one from him. I left the shop and I brought along something with me. An interesting conversation is best gained when you least expected. I was there just to repair my phone and it was better than a coffee talk.

A Tale of a Baby

Here's a story about me and a baby.

Yesterday, I went back to the village of my foster family to celebrate my 2nd day of Eid Eidulfitr with them. They had a big gathering - the whole villagers - at the long house. Not gonna miss a chance so that's why I'm back.

There was this lil boy named Baby Z (not his real name). He's a year old. This cute boy is the only son of a single mother who is happened to be my foster sister. Most of the time, she's working in town, leaving behind her son at home under the care of her parents. 

I love kids. I mean those good kids but babies are all my babies. I love them all. Baby Z is not an exception. He loves to smile. He loves to chuckle at the face of people who play surprise attacks on him. He loves my jokes (everyone hates my jokes but him). Of course, this kind of connection is not the point where all things come together at once. I've taken care of him once when I came a few months ago. Practically, when I'm there, I'll be there to help and take care of him. But this time, it wasn't the same. 

You know when a baby comes to you naturally and takes your arms, he wants you to take him (and only you) and you did, and afterward, when you try to pass him to other people and he refuses, you know that? Well, that happens to me - between me and Baby Z. At first, I thought it was simply baby care job. Kids being kids. I don't think so. 

I carried him until he fell asleep. I was so tired and everyone else was occupied - people came to visit our house for Eid. I sat on an empty sofa and lied so low that it seemed like I was lying down on a bed but not entirely, though. Baby Z? He was on top of me. We both fell asleep. My other foster sister came (not Baby Z's mom). He wanted to put Baby Z on the bed. I tried to pass him to her. He woke up and refused, and continued to hug me tight. I think he's more familiar with his auntie's voice and I tried to think that maybe Baby Z was so sleepy, he ignored his auntie. 

Later, we went to the long house. We wanna gather with other people. We brought Baby Z with us but we left him at our grandparents' house. We enjoyed the night - foods and drinks provided, there's a band performing songs, everyone was dancing, and I had my great times. I was drinking when I saw my foster dad came with Baby Z whom I thought was sleeping happily. Quickly, I rushed at him. Baby Z was wide awake. As soon as our eyes met, he stretched his arms towards me and his hands were trying to reach me. I took him and brought him to the side of the long house. He was quiet - like always. I brought him around to dance, eat and drink, and to other people whom he cared less. Old people were calling his name and yet they had no responses. I walked to the side of the long house where his mom was around. I thought maybe she wanted to take him so I tried to. His mom was ready to take him while calling his name. I passed him to her and before I knew how he was quiet even when I did bring him to dance around, he cried. 

I took him back. I carried him around again until he fell asleep and I looked at him. I realized that I was fitting in a role - a father figure for him - I felt so close and I was hugging him, and I could feel how I was so emotionally attached to him already. I wanted to care him. I wanted him so much. 

But of course, it wouldn't happen. I can only be an uncle to him and I am back at my home, away from him again. Like anyone else who has a heart of a parent, I do hope that when we meet again, it's just like the way we left it, "I am your dad, you are my son."