One picture in The Star's 2nd page today really made me down. It was a sight of an old man, all ready to go for his hajj, slugged in front of bags. It was taken at the Suvarnabhumi Airport amidst the turmoil that has been going on the past days.
See, I have this weakness for old men.... No... not that kind of fetish, you pervert! Just a weakness to love and be nice and to show concern to men of old age. I've had it since I can remember. I think it's because I love my grandfather so much, and when he was gone, I extended it to any old men I see on the road.
It's a feeling of love, of wanting to make sure that they are OK. It's really difficult to explain.
One night, the hubby had to take a very late bus to Hadyai. So we drove by Pudu and parked at a spot where I usually park when I drop him or pick him up. It was about 12:30 am. There was this guy, dressed in a white neat baju melayu, with a white skullcap standing there like he was waiting for someone. The hubby and I sat in the car, chatted. I couldn't help but steal some glances at the old man trying to read his feelings and emotions. Was it his first time being in KL? Who was he waiting for? Is he waiting for his daughter? Oh, I'll never let my father wait for me. He seemed like he had been standing there forever. There was a look of restlessness on his face. But also a mixture of patience.
He kept looking at each car that slowed pass him. Didn't seem that he knew who was picking him up, or the kind of car the person drives. That even broke my heart.
When hubby had to go to his bus, I opted to wait. Not because I wanted to make sure he got on the bus safely, but I felt obligated to wait with this old man for his ride to wherever. He waited, and I waited. He pulled out a small mobile from his breast pocket and checked on the time numerous times. He tilted the phone towards the streetlight. Then he put back the mobile in his breast pocket. It was 1:30 am. I couldn't help but feeling a little sad for him. It had started to drizzle a little, but he stood there never moved an inch. I felt like crying.
Hubby's bus parked within the sight of the car. He must have thought I was waiting for him. Poor guy... I was waiting on a stranger.
Slightly after 1:35 am, the bus decided it was time to go. As it slowly picked up speed from gear 1 to gear 2, a small pick-up truck stopped to pick up the old man. It was like planned. The bus moved, the old man went. And there I was in the car, in the drizzle, feeling all lost and empty for the 2 men who were in my life that past hour had just move on their own way....
*sigh*
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