Family Breakfast

Chong sat back in the chair, his face buried in the newspaper. It wasn’t that there was anything in it that particularly absorbed his attention. He did it idly. He just wanted a respite from the view in front of him.

Shusan sat opposite him. She had finished her thosai. She sat staring at the empty banana leaf on the table in front of her. The place was noisy, with crowds of people having their thosais and rotis canais while in animated conversation. Shusan looked ruffled. She always looked that way. Her face was often frozen in a scowl. She looked up and seeing her husband behind the paper irritated her even more.

“Listen, how long are you going to read that paper?” her voice was loud enough to make those at the next table turn to look at them.

Chong put down the paper and folded it. He got up.

“And where are you going now?” Shushan snapped.

“I’ll go settle the bill.”

Shushan looked at Liza, sitting next to her, nibbling at bits of the roti canai, while she dreamily played a game on her phone.

“You are taking ages to eat that roti! Come on. Put the phone away. Finish the roti. It’s just a small piece and you are taking forever.” Shushan thought her voice was a low whisper, but it had practically half the people in the restaurant looking at Liza.

“It may be a small piece for you, but its big for me.” Liza answered defiantly.

“Shut up and eat. Don’t answer back at me.”

“Mom, its still early…” Tom started.

Shushan turned on him, “Now you shut your mouth. I know when it is early or late.”

She glowered at him for a while. Then she saw Chong walking back and looked up at him, ready to snap at him.

“Do you have change for a 100 ? The guy doesn’t have change.” Chong held the RM100 note.

“What’s wrong with you ? Don’t you use your brain? You mean you just brought the RM100 note, and no small change ? How idiotic.”

“Well give me some small notes.”

“I don’t have my purse with me. Go change the money somewhere else. Serves you right.”

Liza looked at Tom and rolled her eyes. She continued nibbling at the roti canai. Tom sipped the Milo.

Chong sauntered away.

Shushan sat muttering under her breath. 

The Visit

He looked at the people sitting around the table.

“Ada soalan lain ?”

There was some fidgeting and some murmurings. He knew there were many questions in their minds. It was several months since he had met them. But somehow they all seemed to sense the urgency running through his mind. An urgency to get this over with.

“Mr Mark, saya nak tanya……” Rosli looked intense as he explained his problem.

Mark felt a mild irritation. But he answered, explaining patiently.

“Ok, kalau taada soalan lain, kita berhenti sini la,” he quickly gathered his papers, not letting his eyes linger on anyone. He didn’t want any more delays. It was almost four.

***

“Harbour Place”

“Lima belas encik.”

It was daylight robbery, and Mark instinctively began to protest. But he was already opening the door, and the driver knew he had the upper hand. He just smiled.

Mark got in. He drummed his fingers against the seat, as the taxi crawled through the traffic.

***

He waited. Where would she come from? He looked past the laundry. Then at the doorway near the minimarket. And then at the guardhouse. And back towards the laundry. And there she was. Walking towards him. A dancers walk, feet floating lightly over the ground. She looked tired. But she looked happy. 

***

The apartment was neat and functional. A light breeze gave a cool feeling as Mark sank into the sofa. Medical books with gruesome pictures were lying about.

“I made something for you.” She danced over to the kitchen. She returned with a small bowl. She handed it to him.

“I made it myself. Special for you. Less sugar.”

Mark looked at the yellow goo. He felt inexplicably good. Was this what it would have felt like ? If he had a daughter of his own ?  Someone who would care for him, think about his likes and dislikes, and make things for him? He looked down at the contents of the bowl again. It looked inviting now. He took a spoonful. And looked up, to find her watching him expectantly.

“Delicious.” She looked pleased. She mumbled something about the yellow colour. But Mark was overwhelmed by her simple loving act of taking the trouble in making the kesari…. for him.

He looked up to see her with a mug of water. Even the water was delicious and refreshing!

Time flew. He knew he had to leave soon. But he savored every moment. They talked about her studies, about gemstones in teeth and everything else. And then at last it was time to leave.

***

“Oops, I left my book upstairs.”

“Ok, you wait here , I’ll go get it.”

“ No, Ill come along. You probably won’t know where I put it.”

Several more minutes in her company.

***

She got out of the car to say a final goodbye. And then she was gone.  

THE OUTING

Karuppan squatted by the roadside. He chewed the tobacco and gazed into the middle distance. The soft breeze ruffled his flowing hair. He was oblivious to the cars whizzing by, the occupants comfortably ensconced in their air-conditioned cocoons, some occasionally casting an indifferent glance at Karuppan. A few eyed him suspiciously. He looked like a foreigner, and everyone knew most of these foreigners were violent criminals. One had to be careful.

Karuppan was waiting for his friends, Maran and Ghani, and Ghani’s cousins, Ghulam and Kader. They had a day off from their jobs at the estate, and had come into town to while away the time, and maybe see a movie. There was a new Vijay movie in town. Karuppan waited patiently.

Soon he heard a muted honking. Karuppan looked up. A ramshackle van was trundling down the road towards where he was. He watched for a while. Then he stood, and sent a jet of red tobacco laden spittle splattering against the bushes. He walked briskly towards the van. As it came closer, Karuppan could recognize Maran in the driver’s seat. And beside him was Ghani. Maran honked repeatedly, smiling through his yellowed teeth. Ghani looked pleased to see him.

“Dey, come on, it’s getting late.” The van door slid open, and Karuppan crawled in. Ghulam and Kader were sitting at the back, with two other men Karuppan had never met.

“This is Mani. He has come down from JB. And this is his brother Gopal.”

Karuppan nodded.

The van jerked and grunted. It spewed black smoke as it labored its way uphill towards the main road.

As they approached the school, Maran could see the long lines of people inside. There were also groups of people milling around outside, talking loudly. The sun was sweltering hot, but the people around the school stood, sweating.

The van slowed as it reached the school, as Maran maneuvered through the people standing around on the road.

A violent jerk, and the van jumped, almost hitting some of bystanders. The engine died. As Maran frantically tried to revive it, some of the people started peering into the van. Ghani, Karupan, Ghulam, Kader, Mani and Gopal sat sweating, scrunched against each other in the tiny van.

“Bangla !” the cry went up.

Everyone was looking into the van now. The occupants of the van peered back, looking terrified.

“Hoi, apasal you orang datang sini, ha?”

“Bangla tipu !!”

“Undi hantu”

“Hoi, penipu”

The crowd was swirling around, shouting and yelling. Some were screaming obscenities. Maran tried to get out or the van. He tried to explain. But all his protestations were drowned by the crowd’s chaotic shouting. Some had pulled open the van doors. Maran, Ghani, Karuppan… all of them were dragged out. The crowd set upon them with helmets, sticks and bare fists, punching and kicking.

Seeing the commotion, more people ran over and joined the melee, bashing Karuppan and his friends mercilessly.

***

Maran sat against the tree. His face was bloodied. He could hardly move his left hand. Ghani and Karuppan squatted nearby, panting and unable to speak. Soon Mani and Gopal appeared, supporting Ghulam between them. They collapsed in a heap under the tree.

“Where’s Kader ?” Ghani looked anxious. Everyone scrambled to look back towards where the deadly attack had taken place. But Kader was nowhere to be seen. They looked at each other, the terror playing in their eyes.

***

Kader lay on the ground, his leg at an awkward angle. Blood ran from his nose and mouth in a tiny stream, snaking its way to the edge of the road. The crowd stood back. A policemen was feeling his pulse. He looked up at his superior and shook his head imperceptibly.

Kader’s wallet lay nearby, its contents scattered around. One piece of paper fluttered in the wind. The words “NATIONAL IDENTITY CARD, PEOPLES REPUBLIC OF BANGLADESH” were printed in fading bold letters, above a picture of a youngish looking Kader.