Respite in Moscow

I was driving across the night heading for my late dinner. The radio was playing crappy songs and the drive back seems automatic. I was looking at the distance and my mind was playing by itself about the things I have said recently, about my career, about money, about the people around me and back home, as well as the things at the back of my mind. The thoughts that weaved itself around slowly fades to nothingness when I suddenly realised I had driven back to the apartment instead. A blunder it was as if I had switched off the mind and consciousness.

I then made a U-turn and drove to Moscow. It is an obscure and hidden place which looks like a dodgy mamak in a shop lot with two old cranky air conditioners. They serve roti canai known as chapatti with curry chicken and chopped raw carrots, onions and unidentifiable greens known fondly to us as rumput. They always serve me tea with the nicest cup they have. A set of fork and spoon always come with my meal without asking. These are unusual to the other regular patrons which comprises of mostly construction workers or workers with very low pay as they prefer to eat with their bare hands and drink tea in small glasses.

I have always managed to enjoy my time there especially when visiting for a meal by myself. This is a respite that comes in the form of a simple meal with friendly service without the fanciness and hypocrisy of which I had to put up with on a daily basis.