There I was, just trying to get my first meal of the day at 11 at big mamak place near Kampung Melayu. After confirming my order of Teh Tarik and Roti Telur, my favourite habit triggered. I started to observe people around me. At my 12 o clock, there's a table of an Indian family. The father, mother and son sat there happily eating their brunch. directly behind them was a group of Malay men, clad in simple kampung attire, ragged shirt and pants. They were talking about anything, mostly nothing is of importance. At my 10 o clock, there was a pair of Chinese businessmen. They were obviously discussing their opportunities of getting more profit, intervened by some CNY preparations small talks.
My meal came. It was cold. So much for the big building.
As I was tearing down the mamak cuisine, an animal crossed in front of me. A cat. A mother. She was holding her baby, maybe 3 weeks old, by its hind leg. It struck me that there might be something wrong with the kitten. The mother cat laid the kitten on the floor, between me and the Chinese businessmen, licking its litter with love and attention. It didn't made any movement at all. The kitten was dead.
The Indian family was uneasy with the cats.
The Malays gave glances then continued with their conversation.
The Chinese, they called for the waiters to throw away the dead kitten.
And they did.
The maternal instinct of the cat kicked in. Younger than Eton (maybe she's about 1 years old), she couldnt help but to watch everything helplessly. Seeing the dead body of her offspring being swept away and sent to the nearest black bin, she cried and cried for her lost litter. She begged and begged these people for her baby. No one cared to be attentive, empathetic and caring to this young mother. It was a sad reality.
She is, after all, was just a cat.