Royal Maharaja and Take Away Fast Food

It has been raining for weeks now over here and in Malaysia, the heat is unbearable.

Every morning, when I draw my curtain, it takes me a moment to be thankful for the rain.

I can't deny it that like most of the people over here, I am hoping for sun shiney day.

So, 2 days ago, we had dinner at Royal Maharaja, an Indian restaurant in town.

It was comforting to be tucked in nice Indian ambience, drinking lassi and having lamb briyani served in tin bowl and 5 other people enjoying the evening meal when it was grey and pouring outside.

For the first time, we get to choose everything on the menu, minus the alcohol.

At the very first page, it's stated that all meat and chicken are halal.

Looking at the hanging pictures transported me back to my childhood.

I live near a guest house run by an Indian family - Rama's guest house.

I went to tuition at the house, met Stevey and Benny, being interested in the birds mural and the so many elephants pictures in the house.

I was a curious child, so, whenever I was in the living room where all the pictures were, I would scan each and every one of them.

I remember those many hands, each 1 holding different object.

The pictures were all blue, but I still remember the elephant head with a piece of headdress.

So, about the dinner, the briyani was good, the lamb chunks were tender and the price suits the dinner.

Done paying our bill, we stepped out into the chilly raining town square.

Along the way, we stopped now and then, admiring the pieces on display.

Last stop was in front of a simple cut, yet elegant long flowing dress tagged 23000 kc (nearly 1000Euro)

And after that we passed few restaurants and that was when I saw an old man, not so properly dressed for the chill in front of the fast food corner.

I couldn't see his face but I could see his hands, holding his dinner for that day, a burger perhaps, were shaking. He was standing.

And I just had a bowl of fragrant lamb briyani, in a nice warm place with companies.

My heart ached, out of pity for him and a kick on my conscience.

And somewhere on the other side of the world, my own single granduncle might sleep after a dinner with only a piece of bread and a body that's getting weaker day by day.

For me, everyday is a struggle (did I tell u yet that being immobilised can weakens sag?), but after a look at that old man, perhaps my struggle is nothing compared to him.

Creepy isn't it, how things are neatly arranged to happen in our lives?

Just like my dinner and that old man dinner.