Chapter 1 : The Rain

As the thick black cloud covering the sun, drizzle of rain started hitting the Earth, with a symphony of thunders and lightnings can be seen miles away, dancing like a pair of fierce Flamenco dancers. On the main district of Chow Kit, umbrellas popped up like a domino effect, one after another. Hawkers covered their merchants with plastic, hoping that they will be protected. The rain changed dramatically as the slow tempo Jazz drizzle had turned into a loud head-banging hard rock tempo. Visibility blurred in seconds. From distance, Areef ran towards a small mamak stall. As he sat on the chair, he cleaned up his lense with clothing, wiping off the droplets on the lense of his DSLR camera. He ordered Americano Coffee, or Kopi O in native language, hoping that he warmth of the drink can heat up his wet and cold body. He sipped slowly as he watched Mothernature cooling her body. Suddenly, he saw a group of children, not far from the place he sat, playing in the rain. The smiled, the cheer and the joy really told Areef that the children were happy with the blessing of Allah. Eversince last week, Kuala Lumpur was very hot, with no rain and lots of haze. The rain was a blessing to the locals. Areef quickly took his camera and aimed the kids. He was waiting for the great moment, the moment which can tell him a story based on his picture. Every movement made by the children, Areef snapped the button. Taking pictures without hesitation, Areef snapped almost 30 frames of shot per minute. After 15 minutes singing and dancing in the rain, an old woman, with a cane on her hand chased the children to a small shop. Seems like one of the child’s parent don’t like with what she saw. Areef smiled with a smirk and sat back to the chair.

Areef took his trustworthy DSLR and scrolled through the pictures of people he took just now, some pictures made him smile, especially when he looked back the pictures of the children dancing in the rain just now. He turned off the camera and put it back into the back. Then he took his Nokia E5, checking for new personal messages and current times. “Shit! It’s 6.30 p.m. ! I am so dead”, Areef screaming from the inside. His eyes getting bigger and dilated. If he did not make it to his house by 7.30 p.m., his mother would provide him long, ear – screeching speeches. He looked to the sky, with no indication of the rain stopping any moment, he sipped his drink and rubbed his arms with his hands, as he shivered from the sheer cold of the rain. Suddenly, an old lady, wearing a pair of baju kurung approached him. She has a small mole on her left cheek. She was holding a pair of big plastic bags contained bags of chips and traditional snacks. She greet him with a smile, before asking him wether he was interested in buying some of her merchants. He looked straight to her eyes, and he cant stand seeing an old lady, walking from table to table selling chips. He bought Maruku, Peniaram Kedah, Rempeyek and Kerepek Bawang. Each cost him RM3. He paid her RM15 and did not ask for the change. The old lady thanked him and walk on to the other tables. As she walked, Areef start pondering. How can her children, can look at their mother, still doing jobs, when she should just stay at home, relaxing and doing what she wanted to do? Areef has a soft heart for elderly. He cant stand looking at any elderly, especially when they had to worked or became beggars. He sighed ad sipped his drink, as he saw that old woman been denied by a couple who was sitting opposite him.