I must tell you. There are people from heaven. And there are people from most probably ... I don't feel like being nasty here ... from I don't know where.
I took a taxi today. As I do normally to the business place. Since the husband has the car for work. But today I was going to the bank in town.
It was a cab from the call cab operator. You call and they'll send you a cab. I use this service to feel more secure. Although if anyone wants to be nasty, they will, regardless. May Allah SWT protect me from evil and evil people.
So this taxicab arrived. As usual they'd be positioned so that I would have to go to the middle of the road to board the taxi. Is this the way it is supposed to be? I don't know. Please remind me how is it in the UK. So I opened the door and there immediately my eyes fell on a shiny black metallic, most probably new, mobile phone. Someone's phone here I said to the driver. Must be the previous passenger's, I continued, picked the phone and passed it to him. I can't recall if he said anything but he placed the phone next to him on the passenger seat.
I might have been wrong. I could be grossly mistaken. But I did have a tinge of uneasy feeling that that was not okay ... and so being the champion of the trodden that I think I am (huh?), I blurted ... let me check the name of the phone owner ... I was not even sure if I know how to do that, all these new models (I have a thousand year old Nokia, proudly dropped here and there, and still whispering ...) But I wanted the taximan to at least do something about it there and then (Sorry Sister, I've heard about so many people picking up things and never made any effort to trace or return them to the rightful owners... And these were people that I thought I could expect better of them).
and ... THAT MAN turned towards me. So violently and these are more or less the translation of HIS TIRADES (He was doing it in Bahasa Malaysia) ... DO YOU THINK I'M DISHONEST? I AM A MUSLIM. I'M MAN OF FAITH ... I KNOW MY JOB. IT IS MY JOB TO DEAL WITH THIS TELEPHONE. GET OUT OF THIS CAB IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT ... oh oh ...I thought I've touched a raw nerve there. It could not be that bad that he should shout at me for this ... anyway the me in me can't hold my peace and said ... I just wanted to help ... YOU DON'T NEED TO. IT'S MY JOB ... he screamed back ... so I kept quiet and just informed him of my destination and the route I wished for him to take ... After all I could have been at fault ... A while later he called the cab operator on call and informed the lady taking the call about the phone. AlhamduLILLAH, that's what I wanted.
Awhile later, the phone rang. He answered, and I could hear a woman's voice with concern about her missing telephone. He answered and from the conversation I felt that he's not a very pleasant person. He must have been forced to do this taxi driving job, for whatever reasons.
Moving on, I could sense that he was still angry and wanted to teach me a lesson. He drove over road humps like a donkey slapped ... not that I've seen or know how a donkey reacts when slapped ... :-) Unpleasant, but I kept quiet ... Of course in my mind I thought he was "SATAN in Disguise" (sorry). He was running a low, slow music when I first boarded the taxi ... and now he's fiddling with the tape and up he's turning the volume on some talk about Iman etc by a speaker ... I understood ... The great man wanted me to know that he's a religious man, has religious tape in his cab ... no nonsense, man ... stupid you're listening to music just now ... quietly I "helped" to listen ... ohhhh I hate hypocites ... but still I could be wrong ... I kept my peace ... But THE SATAN in him could'nt ... Again he fiddled with the tape, this way that way and in the process turning the volume higher, shrieking into my ears.
Then I said (nicely of course, honestly sister...), please turn the volume down ...and the SATAN (sorry again for this name calling) in disguise was waiting for this moment, turned around and shrieked ... I"VE NEVER MET ANYONE LIKE YOU BEFORE! ...now that's it ... I said what's your problem. I'm just requesting for you to turn it down ... THAT you want to get upset? ... that phone i wanted to help, you also got upset ... jusT beCAUSE you're a MAN you tHINK you cAN SIMPLY BULLY A WOMAN. DID YOU SAY YOU HAVE IMAN? YOU ARE A HYPOCRITE, MUNAFIQ! (Of course I was slowly and definitely raising my voice! wishing that those words were firestones raining on him)
Oh sister what do you think he did? ... He covered his ears and said I DON'T WANT TO LISTEN TO YOU. STOP TALKING! ... me? stop talking when you've triggered that avalanche!
I WILL NOT. YOU LISTEN. YOU ARE A HYPOCRITE.
All this while he was driving ... GET OFF FROM THIS TAXI ... he screamed back and stopped by the roadside close to the State Palace. GET OUT he screamed again. I DON'T HAVE TIME FOR THIS. I WANT TO GO FOR SOLAT he continued his scream ... MUNAFIQ I said, IF YOU HAVE IMAN YOU WOULD KNOW THAT ADZAN (for solat Zohr) WAS MORE THAN HALF AN HOUR'S AGO. AND A MAN'S SOLAT IS WITH THE JAMA'AH! IF YOU TRULY HAVE IMAN ... I am still in the car and he was getting out. He could have pulled, punched or I don't know what else ... I took out some cash, double the usual fare and threw it onto the front seat, and got off the cab. He took them and threw it back onto the roof of the cab as he went back in ... meanwhile I noticed a motorcyclist nearby, observing with concern, his phone on his ears (calling the police perhaps? I didn't find out). I took and threw the cash back in, a five dollar note remained on the car. As the taxi moved away, I took the note and passed it to the motorcyclist. Please take it I said. But he was more concern that I was alright. I am okay I said and called the cab's operator, narrating the entire incident within the motorcyclist's hearing. That was a terrible thing to do the motorcyclist said ... you are the customer... It's okay I said. Thank you for stopping by I continued gratefully. Take the money back he said ... Please take it, I told him. Use it for your fuel, it makes feel better after this anger. He was worried. Assuring him , I said goodbye and walked on.
It was a long way to the bank. But at that instant, I'm remembering a certain beloved sister who walked all the way carrying that much needed printer from town to that old Walsal Campus. And she was expecting! I should be ashamed of myself. AlhamduLillah, this is nowhere near strenuous as compared to that. So I walked slowly ... thinking ... passing in front of the palace, alongside the state administrative building where the chief minister is located and downwards into town. I didn't note the time but reached the bank in about 20 minutes probably ... sweaty ...it was mid-afternoon and we have challenging afternoons here ... and still thinking ...the reason for this narrative so that I can stop thinking ... about it ...:-)
Salam and love.
p/s Do please come over and to help you please note:
*Malaysian Currency is Ringgit Malaysia (RM) not the Dollar.
*Bahasa Malaysia (BM) is our official language, our mother tongue. But when I am angry or upset I switch to English. Just like the girls I narrated earlier, it's less embarrassing to utter harsh words, even gutter words to make clear things to unreasonable makhluk ...
*The taxis here turn on the radios, tapes, whatever sounds the drivers prefer ... you can normally request the drivers to lower the volume ... I don't remember radios or music in the taxis of UK.
