Monday morning, on the way to work. Federal Highway is unusually congested. That is never a good sign for the start of the week.
I desperately seek the very limited fun factor in my stationary vehicle; the noisy yet hilarious radio station and the most important thing is they bring joy even to the gloomiest morning. The 3 stooges have been my supple dosage of fun every working morning. But not tis morning.
Instead of feeling jolly listening to them talking about anything and everything under the sun , the deejays were paying their tribute to the late Malaysia director or rather the story teller. The heart was filled with lead, was much much heavier than a month ago when I first hear about MJ's passing on. It was suffocating and was forcing to switch to CD just to find a niche to suck in all the Monday blues.
And the sky is gray, the Malaysian driver is inconsiderate as usual, the traffic is slower than slow, the fear for future is still there somewhere, that very moment, i feel very much like pulling over and mourn for the great lost to those who appreciate what Yasmin Ahmad.
