It was a scorchingly hot day. I was my way home from school and I was perspirating heavily, beads of sweat rolling of my forehead. The usual 15 minutes walk it took for me to reach home now seemed like an eternity. The sun's unforgiving rays of light was making me in dire need of water.
The trees provided little or no shade as they were few and far between. This was not unusual for a sprawling city like Kuala Lumpur, but they now proved more a nuisance than ever. Every step was like torture. I couldn't wait to get home.
5 minutes from home, I spotted something different along the row of shoplots I walked past regularly. At the corner of the shoplots I saw an old lady manning a nasi lemak stall. She seemed to be in her seventies. The stall was simple and fuss-free. It consisted of a table with the trays of (hand-made, presumably) nasi lemak arranged neatly on it. She sat on a plastic chair and gazed hopefully at the passerbys, who blatantly ignored her. What amazed me most was that she was braving the harsh rays of light and her stall was set up out of the shade.
She noticed me staring and smiled at me hopefully, gesturing at her nasi lemak. Even from afar I could see the wrinkles etched on her face. Jer faded t-shirt was drenched with sweat. The slippers she was wearing were so think, I reckoned she could feel the heat emanating from the ground. I was dying to get home, but one look at her face made me do otherwise. I searched my pockets for spare change, but came up with nothing. I looked at the lady and shook my head ruefully. She looked devastated. I felt terrible.
Just then, an expensive-looking car rolled up in front of the old lasy's stall, no doubt belonging to a rich and successful person. It stopped. The look of surprise on the old lady's face was unmistakable. The door opened and an impeccably coiffed young man came down. He smiled at the old lady and gestured at her goods. I could see him