Currently Playing: Couple-Maybe.
Eh, who caught their show at The Curve last Sunday? Other obligations came a-knocking since Ummi was on a business trip, so I bailed. F1 race to catch too. To those who happened to be hanging around Borders, fill me in! To the uninformed, Couple is a local band that’s currently working hard to build itself a name in the music industry. They sound a little like OAG; indie rock and power pop and all that. Check them out if you’re into that sort of thing. Boleh tahan gak lah.
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Today turned out to be a very unfortunate day for not having the camera with me.
Widaad and I were walking back to our workplace (although we don’t exactly work, which is just as well because we don’t get paid either) when we caught sight of several things which stopped us dead in our tracks and rooted us to the spot. Nevermind the fact that it was seering hot because we were standing under the predictably blazing Malaysian sun. People hurried by us, indifferent and interested in nothing but to find shelter from the uncomfortable heat, but we stayed on, despite wearing black abayas and headscarves under thick blazers.
We were standing on the walkway situated next to Klang River. Across the river stood the breathtaking architecture of Masjid Jamek. Friday prayers were approaching. On the other side of the river, several young boys clad in baju Melayus were sitting on the river bank which was supported by a concrete wall. Below them, there was a ‘platform’ of some sort which would overflow during heavy downpours. It was not to be used as a walkway because there’s no safety railing to protect against the danger of falling into the river.
A little boy had somehow got himself onto the platform, and was struggling to climb up onto the river bank again. He used his legs and fingers, clawing at the concrete wall desperately. He didn’t look worried though; he was very level-headed about it. All the other boys were calling out to him and reaching out for his hand, but they couldn’t quite reach it.
He kept at his efforts for the next few minutes. By this time, Widaad wondered out aloud why the older guys were oblivious to the whole situation, as we watched the him drop back down, over and over again. For some reason though, I felt only worry but not panic. It seemed as though it was just a normal case of a lad’s misadventure. I was interested in finding out how he was going to get himself out of the scrape, because something told me that he was going to be alright, that he didn’t need a heli-basket type of rescue to winch him up. I think it may have been a flash of what a mother’s instinct feels like.
After a bit, another boy jumped onto the platform.
The Imaam from the mosque began to call for prayers. Everyone began heading towards the prayer area, ready to position themselves in orderly lines.
The boy who jumped then proceeded to hurriedly offer his back by bending over, and the other boy accepted by stepping onto it and reaching for the bank. All the older men were still sorting themselves out at this time, still oblivious.
But the younger boys by the bank remained. As the boy stretched to grasp onto the bank, two boys took each of his hands and pulled him right up. The brave rescuer then calmly climbed back up after him and dusted himself off.
All the boys then ran together to join in the prayers, just in time to follow the Imaam’s Takbiratul Ihram.
There are no words to describe what we felt after watching the scene. Widaad and I just looked at each other and back at the direction of the boys, who stood shoulder to shoulder. Yes, there is still very much hope for this world.
Another sight to behold came soon afterwards, as we continued our walk.
We were passing Star’s Station near Masjid Jamek, when suddenly Widaad grabbed my arm and motioned to the station. We both gasped. Inside the station itself, the men had rolled out their prayer mats to pray. The mosque had undoubtedly run out of space. We could see other men, praying on the sidewalks as well, in perfect lines, in perfect show of brotherhood.
The area was literally overflowing with praying men.
I love Friday prayer scenes. Always have.
It was completely overwhelming. A beautiful, reflective, humble moment of prayer between people of many shapes, sizes and colours who share a common faith. Together.
And I chose today of all days, to leave the camera at home.
AIH. GAH. ARGH. And all other exclamations of frustration.
Oh, but if only we could show this sort of camaraderie, respect and unity towards others all the time.
A reminder:
Even the simplest of an incident could leave a deep, indelible mark within. It just takes a few minutes of your time, a dab of patience, and a tad bit of contemplation.
Enough said here.
