Immigrant In Boots

I was bored to death last night. There’s nothing interesting on the tube. So I decided to take a night stroll around the neighborhood. Feeling hungry as well, I stop by the usual lepak spot: nasik kandaq.

An immigrantwith a PCK – yellow boots just passed my table when I ‘m having supper there. He headed for the TV, eyes focussing on the TV screen which is then showing the telecast of Man City vs Villa. I was ticked of because he was blocking my view. Deep down in my heart, thought curse has sparked.  ‘He uttered a satisfying ‘YES’, clenched his fist with satisfaction, looking at the scoreline. Heck, another new batch of City fans eh.

I’m started to prolong the silent negativity,intended purely for the immigrant. That until I remembered this post from a schoolmate of mine that I just read this evening. It does not do justice by any far,at all.  After altering the negative imagery, I was smiling, as he was able to portray what he felt. Like he care about what people think. I was smiling, because he did what I could not do: act with no excessive worries of whatnot. Act first, worry later.

Then it’s time to head home, with stuffed stomach and a happier heart. Turned out that it was not a boring night after all.