she went second hand book hunting with her eldest girl. she was looking for more daphne du mauriers. she couldn't find any. so she settled for buchan. and some enid blytons for her students.
they bought 2 packets of ais tingkap's tantalisingly yummy 'ais campur' . then she saw him. sitting forlornly in front of his ancient cart. no fire under the old wok. the egg noodles in a huge heap untouched. no customers in front of him. while other hawkers were busy with good business.
he was terribly old, his back hunched. his movements slow. she wondered sadly whether he was alone in the world, without wife or children. otherwise why was he still trying to eke out a living while hardly able to stand?
he should be at home. he should be resting. he should have good food to eat. he should be reading the Quran. he should have children to take good care of him.
why is he still at the alley of a pulsating city, rain or shine, frying mee for a few miserable ringgits each day?
dear readers, if you happen to be at the alley beside a market selling all kinds of preserved fruit in Tanjong, across the road from the Penang Road Police Station, look out for a noodle hawker near the Ais Tingkap stall. look for the old man nearly bent double manning a mee rebus/goreng/nasi goreng cart. do buy a packet or two from him. he serves customers with a smile.
it is so beautiful to be kind.
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