Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Another Vehicle Was Stolen

I am always grateful that everyday, around 1 to 2pm, there is always a Balai Polis Bergerak, sort of mobile police post, passing by my house.
The policemen on wheels usually make their rounds, around the neighbourhood, while most people are indoors having their lunch, or taking their afternoon nap.

The owner of the provision shop in front of my house was twice robbed of their earnings.
The second time, his hand was severed, almost totally chopped off by the robbers.
Since then, the shophouse was always grilled.

A 24-hour restaurant at the corner of the street was also robbed.
Although the sign 'Restoran Kassim' is still displayed, it has since shifted its business to a nearby shophouse along a busy road.

My children had their motorcycles being stolen too, but not at home.

My son had his bike stolen at the parking lot of Giant Plentong.
Earlier on, when he was still studying, his bike was stolen in the gated compound of his friend's house in Shah Alam, in the month of Ramadhan.
Someone, using machinery, lifted it out of the compound during sahur time.

My daughter then sent her motorcycle to his brother, as he needed it more than her.
She had once had her bike stolen too, while parking at the U surau where she is still studying today.


This evening around 6.30, while I was transfering a plant to a bigger pot, a worried looking man was seen frantically running up and down the road.
With a flimsy paper, like a delivery invoice or quotation, in his hand, I assumed he was looking for the right address.
I kept seeing him walking neither here nor there, but at the extreme opposite side of the road where I was.

When it was 7, about time that I retreated, he suddenly walked in front of me.
He knew I was observing him all these while.

"Lori saya kena curi." 
Then he hurriedly ran and walked away.

His lorry was stolen.
All I can say to myself, pity that deliveryman and lorry driver, for wanting to earn an honest living...