Soul (Edited Version)

I made my way to Puduraya station, a place I loathed and dreaded. Couldn’t shrug off the feeling of constantly stalked by some faceless dangers, I instinctively quickened my pace and at the same time be vigilant of the darting vehicles.

Unconsciously, I squeezed into the crowds in the central market. Caucasians, Indians, Bangladeshis, local, unknown faces, soulless individuals, they were all in the crowds, just like me. Who was I? Was I as soulless as the army of machines marching dutifully in front of me or the petty peasants scurrying stealthily in the corner I couldn’t see?

That’s why I hated Puduraya station. This place gave people feeling of hopelessness and lost, a feeling that I had avoided all the while. To my right, the traffic was heavy, buses were groaning heavily, cars were moving in snail pace, the drivers were swearing. Uneasiness filled the air, I wished I could turn my back on all the things, all the impatience swelling around me.

But I couldn’t, because I had to go back, to the place I truly belonged to, after years of exile, in the bedlam state. Lost, was the first challenge a reluctant traveler I had to mount. Finding my way back, was the final lesson I had to learn.

Now or perhaps not so recently, I could feel my youth was draining away from my body, after years of hardships. I was no longer young, not with experience deposited under my belly, not with the melancholy at the edge of my eyes. When I was musing about my journey, instinctively I would look at the people around me. Suddenly chill was crawling up my spine, were they once a traveler also? Then, where was their soul because I saw no soul.

Life was neither Satan nor any devil, but it seemed everyone wished to go through this had to trade their soul with something they didn’t even know. Distraught, I tried to muster my strength to face the soulless people. I was panicked and wondering did I keep my soul well?

I could feel the intoxicating excitement and growing jittery around me. Yes, I was now in Petaling Street, along with herd of lost souls and lambs. Familiar scenes blasted through my cornea, stimulated my slumbering mind.

Aggressive DVD sellers, rapid fire Cantonese exchange, dilapidating tents, counterfeit LV bags and BOSSES perfumes, Caucasians bargaining with the locals, mouth-watering roasted chestnuts and panicked soul seekers, intimidated identity finders, desperate survivors of clash of civilization.

Ironic and almost spine-chilling was Petaling Street, the merrier, the emptier you felt. So bizarre, so inexplicable. I was terrified. Trying in vain to flee away, I kept my head down, shut myself from the swirling world. That’s the time I heard the strangest voice of the World, something that came from deep inside and clouded in vagueness. Origin unknown.

X

“ Hei, Mum, I’m in Pudu now.”

“ Hello? Hello? Hello? What the…”

“ I already told you, put the pot on the stove, the one without handle, remember? Remember?”

“ I’m on my way now.”

“ Going to reach Shah Alam in 10 minutes, where am I huh? Not sure….Call you later.”

“ Wanna come or not?”

“ love you always…”

“ What a pleasant surprise…”

“ Assalamualaikum…”

“ Huh?”

X

I was in the station now. I thought I could finally rest myself, found a place to sit down, chilled, but I was terribly wrong. Yes, that’s true that I finally could distant myself from the reckless drivers, persuasive shopkeepers and keen secret tellers. However, the sickening chaos and the dizziness never left me.

Bombarded by new sensation of hype, I was more uncertain. Where should I head to? To where I belonged or moved forward to a place I hadn’t seen?

The express bus ticket sellers, I thought, was equally desperate, if not more than me, was busily enquiring and half-forcing the travelers to purchase their bus tickets. Though I suspected some of them were tricksters, I had no intention whatsoever to expose them.

Who didn’t cheat by the way? Who never conned your love one?

The first time you watched porn, the first time you cheated in crucial exam, the first time you told your love one you loved mustard though you had no single idea what the hell was mustard, the first time you told yourself ‘nothing is impossible’, the first time you said ‘ I love you’.

I was not suggesting you were as petty as the con men, but I wanted to highlight was you were not as good as you thought.

Before embarked on my fateful endeavour, I thought I could savour every bit of it, I could distant myself from being ordinary. No, no,no… I was wrong.

How many times I had told myself I would never step into this filthy station and how many times I had repeated my mistakes? Even now, I was in this station, being exposed, being ordinary, being conned and deceived people at the same time. Intriguing was my life, wasn’t it?

The strange voice I had heard just now still ringing in my ears. Its momentum increased every time it collided with my muddled mind. I never thought of eavesdropping despite the record of crimes I had committed was staggering. Though not all the conversation I had eavesdropped clandestinely was comprehensible, I understood nonetheless.

‘ hei, dik, pergi mana? JB, penang?’

I smiled back politely. What should I reply? Yong Peng? A place I wanted so badly to flee from?

What did I escape from? Seemingly weightless responsibility? Tarnished reputation?

Ironically, now I was ready to go back, after so many years of lonely exile. What was I escaping right now? Pressure?

‘Hei, mana?’

Another man approached me. A man? Was I sure? ‘He’ looked nothing like man, but who cared?

But thanks for his interruption, I could finally had a clear look of people around me. There was a middle-aged man sitting beside me, puffing forcefully the cigarette as if tomorrow were Day Of Judgement. To my right, there was a teenager, chattering boisterously over her phone. Determined to bar myself from eavesdropping pettily, I turned my gaze to group of people in front of me. It seemed they were in some sort of heated argument, I suspected there were more spectators, thriller-seekers, than the people actually involved directly.

Slightly further away from me, there were group of suntanned blondes, wandering aimlessly, who were obviously confused by the signboard. There were two policemen standing beside them, arms crossing. They were not going to help, were they?

I reckoned this was my time to walk around. Maybe this place wasn’t as bad as I had experienced before? But, my readers, please don’t tell anyone that I seriously doubted that statement.

Nevertheless, I still managed to force myself up from my seat, but the sudden lack of oxygen supply to my oxygen depleted brain nearly knocked me back and at that time. Almost miraculously, I thought I heard something again, the same strange voice. Same vagueness, different amplitude, different feeling.

X

“ I don’t have feeling on you.”

“ You are just a piece of shit.”

“ ooo…”

“ You are still my love one, giving up is not my…”

“ Hello, can you hear me, I want to tell you I can see aeroplane…”

“ You are colourless.”

“ How to struggle to be stronger?”

“ We don’t shed tears for something worthless.”

“ Can we still be friends?”

“ Don’t be afraid.”

“ All I want is sense of security.”

“ Huh? Hello? Hello?”

X

I was surrounded by clouds, mixture of exhaust gas and self-doubt. Despite people around me were joyous after seeing the bus slowly parked itself in front of us.

“ I’m going home now.” I heard somebody said that.

Their reactions intrigued me. People who had souls won’t appear to be so carefree, as if all troubles solved themselves divinely. Where were their souls? In their hometown? Maybe…

But where was I now? In my hometown where my soul lied or Pudu station where my body trapped?

“ In Pudu station, my friend.”

“ Who are you, why?”

“ Only soul can hear…”

“ Huh?”

This voice was too tempting to be ignored. I heard that carefully, hoping I could perhaps decipher its cryptically written message. My mind, again, failed me miserably and I thought I heard mocking sound from the people around me.

“ Ear can hear, but soul listens. Eye can see, but soul envisions.”

I was baffled befuddled. But, I still boarded the bus without looking back, ignored the strange voice reverberating in Pudu station.

“ Perhaps you’ve grown up, perhaps you are already a different person, perhaps you’ve already acquired my new soul, a melancholy soul, perhaps you no longer belong to any place. Because you are finally yourself, finally have room for your own soul.”

Do you think I deserve a soul? You read and you judge.