'Stopping And Staring At Intervals'

We left Taiping on Friday morning, and (suprisingly) reached just in time for lunch after having endured an ironic bottleneck situation on our way; a long line of traffic greeted us--formed (and further developed) by a road which was widely used by many, but too narrow and directed by a ridiculously quick-turning traffic light (the green lasted but a few seconds, the red: a few minutes). I stared at the people in the cars beside us during this leg of the journey, and looked elsewhere when I had been noticed.

Before we had lunch, we were given a small tour of the bridal room and for the first time, (I) learned that technology has finally enabled us the creation of mosquito-repelling mattresses. Also, I was bestowed with the knowledge of the current market pricing for wardrobes--and at some point nudged my long-time buddy (who was the bridegroom's younger brother) and remarked that this piece of information could come in handy for us some day.

We spent the afternoon afterwards in 1 Utama; where upon chancing a bookshop (Times) I became a creature of restrained purchasing ability (I stuck to my original plan of getting books from Kinokuniya KLCC, the next morning). The drive to Menara Wesley (where I was staying) was accompanied with talk related to the finer points of working in a factory environment and its inevitable politico aspirants: I wasn't advising him, I told him; I was merely sharing with him what had happened: where I had been. In the midst of all this, his girlfriend lay fast asleep beside him, still as the lull of windshield wipers and beating rain outside continued.

I was greeted by a room similar with where I had stayed for my cousin's wedding, earlier this year. Two beds, a table in between; two more chairs and another table in between them beside the window overlooking a school's compound. "Why don't you sleep in one bed for a few hours and use the other one after?" a few had suggested, having been given my description of the place.

(I found the pillow too soft, and used the blanket as one instead).

After a short bath, I left for the bus terminal where I managed to purchase tickets for Sunday (I returned to Taiping with a friend's mother). No more last minute buying of tickets; I've learnt my lesson--never again will I spend hours in waiting for that one vacant seat (Sometime earlier this year: I waited and waited and waited; I counted each person boarding and kept each seat in view, in case someone didn't show but my heart shrank with each boarding person. It was only afternoon, but I was holding a 9:00 p.m. ticket--my last resort as all the earlier ones had been sold out).

The bustle and proximity of people there ensured sweat, making the exit to the streets a relief, as it was still drizzling. A blind couple performed as passerbys crossed them. The woman sang, accompanied by the man's acoustic guitar playing, amplified through a small practice amp. They were good, but no one else seemed to notice.

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