Headless Chicken on the Run

Just like any other Sundays, impromptu plan would always top the chart for me.

I was enjoying my morning drive out of the area to Paya Jaras last Sunday with my wife. The kids were left at home when they prefer not to miss their favourite weekend programs on TV. Breakfast was on the table and they would choose their own time to have it. Unlike lunch or dinner; in weekends, they hardly share similar time for their breakfast if not for the time the whole family is eating out.

Driving through the winding road out of the area is no big deal to me. I can even do it blindfolded (of course without guarantee not to hit the ditch, though). I’d run pass the place at the average of twice a day; one in the morning to office and back home in opposite direction in the evening is another.

Peaceful and easy Sunday! Hardly other cars were seen.

One has no reason to pass through the place until and unless he or she is either a resident there, a visitor or have something to do with someone from the area. The place is rather away from the hustle bustle of the traffic and not in the midway to places like shopping malls, eateries, entertainment spots or well-known rojak stalls.

In another road bend, I saw a damaged car at the roadside. It was clear to me a head-on collision must have had happened the night before. But only that white-colored car was there. Judging from the torment the car has suffered, it must’ve been due to a good impact with the great speed. The very thought that I had, it was highly likely happened to the residents in our area, our neighbor to say the least. But I was clueless.

Come Monday morning, I opened up the community portal from the office. And I read in the newspaper too. HERE. There I saw news about what had happened. The white-colored car that I saw on Sunday belonged to a family of five. Husband and wife died in that accident that left a baby of 9 months in critical condition while their sons of eight and ten escaped with minor injuries.

It shocked me. I never had thought fatal accident would happen at the road leading to our housing area. To me, it was the least expected thing to happen. That’s not the place for drivers to rev up their engines, perhaps the crazy ones may. But it happened.

Little surprise, it was due to the 18-year old driver in Honda Jazz (the black car in the pic) was acting like headless chicken running at the top speed, pushing the machine to the limit. He failed to cleanly pass other cars of which the doubled-lined road does not allow to overtake in the first place, only to meet the oncoming innocent white-colored car at the curve that the occupants with small kids were on the way back from their groceries in Econ-Save.

There go two lives in the blink of an eye that left three young living souls orphaned. Nobody knows whether the three kids would lead a normal life or not, especially the critically injured 9-month old baby, if at all he can make it. The suffering will be harder and longer than our sympathy goes as onlookers.

Life is too short and the headless chicken is too dumb.

Pictures: Courtesy of SUDOTNET

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My Beautiful Morning

Nice condominium in Taman Melati, KL

The food was not bad. The taste was not strange to my palate. Perhaps it has developed for the taste benchmark long ago, ever since I was a kid.

I had my nasi kerabu in the morning yesterday. Too much of budu that makes it a bit too salty, and funny, only now I realize it was. I finished it up anyway. It must be good since I didn’t say a word about it while eating.

Or may be I was engrossed with the company I was having my breakfast with? Until I didn’t care about the taste. Yeah… come to think of it, that might be the reason.

How true. I had my breakfast with two nice bloggers. The place was in Taman Melati, next to the condominium block in the picture above.

Zalila, my wife’s best friend actually is staying a couple of blocks from where we had our breakfast, at Leha’s.

I remembered the day when I visited the ICU in KL Hospital a few years ago. Zalila’s hubby was lying there in the bed. It’s hard to imagine when all sort of tubes and wires attached to his body, arms, hands, nose and mouth. And that eerie sound of the life support device made my heart beats faster.

Being a staff at the hospital, Zalila can always have the best of medical supports available for the husband. All her friends right from the specialists to common medical officers, housemen and down to support staff including nurses were there giving their best hands to safe life of Zalila’s husband.

At the moment when I was adjusting my sterile robe that compulsory to be worn before entering the Intensive Care Unit, a brush of thought came in my head, it could be me in the bed instead of Zalila’s husband. All Zalila’s friends are also my wife’s friends. And if it was me, my wife would do just that to save my life. My wife would then try her best to mobilize all resources to give me the best medical care, just like what Zalila had done.

Datin Asiah, my wife’s immediate superior was there reciting Yaasin when I approached the bed. It was so quiet except for the melancholic verses of Yaasin and the sounds of the machines. And it was cold too. It chickened me out. It brought me to a place that was so strange to me. I became smaller. Just like a grain of sand as compared to the whole universe.

As what’s written by God long before his existence on earth, he passed away minutes after. I did not appear to be crying but deep in me, I was. The kids that had just lost a father, 2 boys and a girl were all of a similar age to my kids. At that point, my heart went to the kids. It crushed me deep inside – thinking of my own kids.

Now Zalila still lives there with her 3 children, not far from the place where I enjoyed my nasi kerabu.

What a good company I had, IDHAM and JOKONTAN

Honest to God, I adore these gentlemen. They are professionals in their work life as much as in their social life. They are among the nicest people I have ever met that know how to make people feel admired, respected and appreciated. Thank you, Id. Thank you, Jo. (It came from my heart while writing this that my eyes watered)

Being me, I always feel so small when I am next to successful people like they are.

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