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  • Email: nitrogue@gmail.com
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Chong and the Group of Misfits

It was a lazy Wednesday night as Chong walked out of his coffee shop, stood at the entrance of it and lit a cigarette. The day had been slow and the shop did not receive much visits from many customers today. He sighed, took a puff and observed his surrounding.

 

Just across the street, where his shop is located, he chanced upon a group of Indian men, around their late 20’s setting up a table to drink. They were loud and foul mouthed and they were giggling and cracking jokes in Tamil as they set up the table, took their seats and opened their bottles of beer.

 

“Pests..” Chong muttered under his breath.

 

He took another puff of his cigarette and observed a couple of young Chinese girls passing by close to the Indian men. Seeing the Chinese girls, the Indian men started behaving like wild animals. They whistled, shouted insults in Tamil, laughed and cracked jokes about the Chinese girls. It was such a disturbing scene to see. The Chinese girls doubled up their steps. Chong cursed under his breath.

 

It’s people like these who shame their respective communities. Chong wished they legalise guns. He wouldn’t mind shooting each one of them down dead. Every single night is the same thing. They would hog that particular area, set up their table, start drinking and making fool of themselves. Chong shook his head. There is no longer good in the society, as he said that in his heart, he took another puff of his cigarette.

 

The Indian men sat there drinking, making noise and laughing when a young Malay boy walks out of the clinic nearby, pushing his old father on a wheelchair. As the both of them got closer to the group of Indian men, the right wheel of the wheel chair gave way, and the poor old man fell out of the wheelchair as it had became imbalanced.

 

The group of Indian men quickly rushed to the aid of the Malay boy, leaving their table of beer, to help the boy pick up his father.

 

“Where’s your car bro?” one of the Indian man asked as he helped carry the old man.

 

The Malay boy showed them the car which was parked just a few feet away.

 

Surprisingly, they worked in a team. One guy carried the broken wheelchair along with the broken right wheel. One helped carry the old man. The rest followed together to make sure everything was safe.

 

Chong observed this scene with great intensity. He realised the group of Indian men, who were a bunch of misfits moments earlier, were now helping this Malay boy carry his old father to his car. It was an amazing sight.

 

The Indian man gently placed the boy’s father in the passenger seat while the other one placed the wheel chair in the back booth of the car. The Malay boy was truly happy and thanked each one of them profusely.

 

As the Malay boy drove off, the group of Indian men were back at their table, drinking and making a fool of themselves again.

 

Chong took a last puff of his cigarette, smiled and said to himself, “There’s still good in the society.” As the Indian men carried on drinking, Chong slowly walked into his shop, glad.

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