There was a man in tattered dress cycling an old bike along the highway. I thought that has the weirdest thing I ever seen. He was alone, cycling in a slow pace. He must have traveled far, and I wonder if he has reached his destination. I wonder if he himself can tell where he is heading to.
I saw him again a week later around the bazaar near Stadium Shah Alam, sitting at the roadside. I gave him RM100, he said nothing. His teary eyes was the only mode of communication that morning.