Terrible journey to Putra Station….

16/08/08 Saturday 2 p.m.

It was the most terrible journey that I have ever had, so far I guess. Going home, from Perdana Heights to Kelantan: is not a wonderful desire anymore from now onwards. I had been waiting at the bus stand in front of Block 1 since 2 p.m. exactly; till here the crawling bus came at 3 p.m.! What a flower bloomed in my heart, metaphorically!

I rushed to a single mouth of the bus and got into it successfully! Oh, dear! No seat for me, my plan went awry. I was the first person who waited for this atrocious bus, but I became someone who stood here devastatingly with two devilish heavy bags? Oh, their colourful flowers! This was not a bus, but a buzz. Then, the bus galloped arrogantly while I was weeping for a prince charming to come. I wished he came and took me on his giant pink pony, spreading it wings to blow the buzz to the Mars! What a relief…but what a fool ambitious daydream! Suddenly, a lot of reminder songs could be heard from my stomach but I intelligently kept them on the sly.

At last, the dying buzz dropped me at Giant Shah Alam. Thanks! It was a great accomplishment throughout the beginning of my journey. My neighbour, Azwan and cousin, Dina were still waiting there since…I don’t know (they are UiTM Section2 students).

We carpooled to Kuala Lumpur, since my cousin and I would take our bus at Putra Station, opposite to The Mall, at night. Actually, my tummy was waltzing gracefully along the Federal Highway. Then, we just went straight to The Mall and had some meals. I did not put my infatuation on my food! But I should rather eat my own foot! My neighbour’s friend, Hidayat bought a plate of kuih. He, a passive boy actually, asked the left three of us to name the kuih. I said confidently, “Cucur!”. He smiled. Dina guessed, “Jemput-jemput”. Then, the last word came out from Azwan’s mouth, “Cucur pisang”. Hidayat giggled. Well, the endemic kuih was surely not giving us any clue to guess. The shape was like a ball and golden in colour. So, he told that the kuih is goreng pisang. What a flower! Don’t you dare to ask us how the taste was! We prefer to be shot by an ayatollah in Iran, rather than giving you the answer! Oh, God! Forgive whoever person that made this unique goreng pisang please! Keep him or her in heaven, even though this goreng pisang tastes like the food in hell. Amin…….

Azwan and Hidayat left my cousin, Dina and I, as they have done their job of taking me here. We have nothing to do but wandering around this shopping complex. We dropped by all the departments and shops. I bought a DVD, ‘My Fair Lady’ at Speedy. Then, we went to Hang Tuah Street, at the highest level of The Mall. The place is exactly like Melaka streets. We enjoyed reading books at an old used book shop. Later, Dina’s younger brother, Akram (UPNM student) came to accompany us half a day long as he was forced to be our bodyguard. It is not proper for girls to walk alone without a man in crowd.

It was time to go. We strolled along the road, heading to Putra Station. What a hasty waiting time. Thirty minutes left to go. I could see a lot of dustmen all over the floor like a friend of cows lied on the mucky field. Horrible people! I kept watching my things cautiously via my poor eyesight. I didn’t dare to wear my beloved and broken spectacles, I would be automatically awful. This place is like a holocaust! Save me! At the moment, we were invited to get our bus by a gloomy announcement. I presume that there might be something wrong with the speaker. Why should I care?

At 9.30 p.m., my cousin and I got into a green Mutiara Express and sat peacefully in our reasonable place. Oh, my dear tiring journey! Go away! Two girls on chairs stayed mainly in their place. We fell asleep till the cold dawn air came on the next day. A beautiful song from My Fair Lady seemed to be sung by Eliza Doolittle along the journey to my hometown, Kelantan Darul Naim.

All I want is a room somewhere
Far away from the cold night air
With one enormous chair
Oh, wouldn’t it be lovely?

Lots of chocolate for me to eat
Lots of coal making lots of heats
Warm face, warm hands, warm feet
Oh, wouldn’t it be lovely?

Oh, so lovely sitting
Absobloominlutely still
I would never budge till spring
Crept over the window sill

Someone’s head resting on my knee
Warm and tender as he can be
Who takes good care of me?
Oh, wouldn’t it be lovely?

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