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Disguised as a beggar, the young man walked lifelessly on the dusty road. The reflection of the pale yellowish moon revealed dimly his skeletal figure, a figure that was not usual to his own being. Funny after months on the run can change a man inside and out.

An old man was panting a few steps behind him, trying to catch up. The smell of clove cigarette spreads as he exhaled his breath. He reached out and grabbed the left hand of the beggar.

“Stop!”, the old man said.
“Let go of my hand, old man.”, the beggar responded.

Surprised, the old man let go of the beggar’s hand.

“Please come home. We are not going to betray you. You have nothing to be afraid of anymore. The enemy is gone.”, said the old man.

“Greed makes a man afraid, old man. Once a person has reduced his needs to the absolute minimum, he has no more reason to fear, of anything, anybody”, the beggar replied while still, lifelessly walking forward.

The old man was stunned. A young man that was once his son has changed radically. He was no longer the son he once knew.

“Well, if you don’t want to go home, at least take my money. It’s the least that I can do.”, the old man said in a surrendered tone.

The old man emptied his pocket and shoved a few ringgit notes to the beggar.

The beggar stopped and stared at the old man’s eyes. The moonlighting divulged the beggar’s bloodshot eyes.

“Give it to someone who needs it.”, the beggar reacted in an annoyed tone but kept his cool. He started walking again.

“Everyone needs money!”

“Then you use it.”

*****

The stars glittered as the unnoticed clouds moved across the dark grey sky. “To victory”, the beggar whispered to himself, “To freedom”, as he walked north. Lonely steps taken to the direction of the beggar’s conquest.



A loose depiction of the first part of Pak Pram’s The Fugitive

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I am like a piece of twig
Sticking through the spinning wheel of your life
Making it stop for a while
Waiting for me to break
Or waiting for me to withdraw
So then it can spin once again
Just like it was ever before

Di dalam bilik berdinding putih dan bersih
Hanya ada sebuah bangku dan sekeping potret
Kulabuhkan punggung atas bangku dan perhati
Kupejamkan mata dan berkhayal
Untuk kembali sedar, potret sudah bersawang

Tetapi tiada labah-labah
Tiada ribut sanggah

I was afraid when you asked me if it’s safe
When you hold my hand and pulled me near
When your lips touched my skin
When your hand stroked my back
When I pushed away but you won’t let go
I was afraid to do it all over again

So I broke free and left