February 10, 2011

The journey home


I decided today to go back to my hometown to see an old friend off overseas. I hope she comes back; people who leave Malaysia don't always do which is a shame because looking at the state of things here now, we're gonna need the Malaysians to return here and make things better.

Anyway, I digress.

This whole post is gonna be about a train ride from KL Sentral. I promise this is entertaining, so don't go click the X on the top right corner just yet. I got my ticket... the usual process of how I go home. This should have been the first red flag... the delay. I was like, "Alright, let's just be patient." So I waited with other people who weren't very patient and they were beginning to groan. At last, the train arrived. Of course, people crowded around the door (so so typical of Malaysians) and refused to let passengers get out first.

As I entered the train, I hear this dude going, "- sudah rosak." For the international readers, that means broken down in Malay. I was just hoping deep deep inside me that it wasn't the train, but several minutes, my worries were well-founded when this announcement came:

"Dear passengers, the train has lost it's electricity supply."

That's it. Not even an apology. So, the people got out and left the train, but they stuck near the door in case the electricity came back and they could easily rush inside when the doors open again. This, my fellow people, is the classic example of 'kiasu'. People who fear losing. As people were complaining aloud about how the KTM is the worst thing in the world, a sound came from the train. Funnily enough, people could hear that muffled sound over the racket they were making.

Guess how I noticed.

The moment that sound was made, everyone became immediately quiet and kept their eyes glued to the door, as if they were expecting the door to do something aside from opening and closing... I appreciate the sense of urgency but really, people? Sighz.

Then, this rush-of-air sound came from the train and the door opened. Good grief, anyone could have died from being trampled. People just bolted for the door and there were some who were slammed against the walls of the train. They didn't care who they pushed down or trampled over, they just wanted in on the ride. 

EVEN the women were vicious as they struggled to get a place in the train. I mean, the Malay women's veils were falling off, the Indian women's braided hair were whipping everybody in the face, and the Chinese women were just screaming and scratching their way through. There was this woman who was so strategically located in this massive circle of men who were pushing their way to get on to the train. The poor woman looked traumatised after that ordeal of being dragged along with them on board. 

I was one of the slammed-up-to-the-wall people, unfortunately. Oh man what catch I was. I mean, have you seen how people look like when they're faces are squashed against a window pane? I looked exactly like that except mine was full body. 

I don't know why but for some reason such things happen when I'm there to witness the whole thing. One reason might be that I could fill up this blog with my posts. I mean, you guys should now be familiar with the nature of my posts and funnily enough, life keeps throwing me into such situations. One can only wonder and guess but never know for sure. 

“Irony is a disciplinarian feared only by those who do not know it, but cherished by those who do.” ~ Soren Kierkegaard