The station was crowded. Sardine packed. It was the busiest hour of the weekend afterall. Or shall I say, weekends are always the peak of time.
As usual, the train was late. All waiting impatiently. The disturbing anticipating moment looking down the track cursing silently, where's the bloody train.?
The place was noisy. You do not expect a main train station flooded with people to be a peaceful environment without even the squeak of a tiny mouse.
But there was more. The sound of a youngster falling into the track.! And laughter of joking or swearing of his friends when he fell in. Was he pushed.? I do not know. Even though he was right behind me. Scary.?
I guess the fact that he was busy swearing and standing up at the same time before he really did start to make his move in getting his ass back on to the platform. Rather quite a scene that attracted the eyes of hundreds, I presume. Naturally.
What a stunt, when the train was already behind schedule. Such a scene do spice things up in those moment. Dangerous.? I say, what a nincompoop.
The bloody commuter arrived. People gushing out, other's pushing in. Those in the middle just being ushered by gushers and pushers.
I was no where. Not a position that can be described. My left foot was in the train, right foot dangling out. The alarm was ringing, signaling or screaming for me to get out. My paper bag failed me just like my phone and plak, the string broke.
I try to squeeze out while hugging my shopping bag tightly. Those idiots just wouldn't go further in when there's empty space behind. Great, and I find myself half inside and outside the compartment, struggling to get myself back into the platform.
What can I say, I'm so proud to be a Malaysian.