A Place Called Indian High Commission

Although my family have been residing in Malaysia for over 25years, my mum is still under PR and maintains her Indian passport. So one in 10 years, she has to travel to the Indian High Commission located in Jalan Duta to renew her passport. We (my mum and I) made that one of those trip yesterday.

Since it was located in a very secluded area, our options for transportation there were very limited. To save time and be there early, we opted to take a cab instead. Thanks to my dad who said the embassy will open at 8am, we were waiting in front of the embassy like some refugee as early as 6.30am. Then we were told they don't open till 9.30am at a place that has no proper place to even sit down. Thanks dad.

Surprisingly, we were not alone. There was an old man who were there way early then us. And he was sitting there in front of the embassy as though he never left that spot for days. We were second in line. Soon after that, Indians started to flock that area. We waited there patiently and watch every staff drive into the embassy. At around 8am, the guard asked us to form a line so that everyone can be checked before gaining entry into the embassy. And so we queued up and waited..waited...and waited...and waited..for freaking 1hour.

At 9am, the guard checked our bags and let us in. Inside the office, what do you know, we formed another line. This time to get our number. At 9.30am, the lady came to the number counter and sat down and started asking the old man in front of me what was his purpose there. The funny thing was majority of Indian who goes there are Indians speaking only Tamil. And the staffs working there speaks only Malay and English. Which idiot hired them in the first place? Don't they know what customer service is?

Because of this, all the staffs there behave like they are having PMS. Very rude and cranky. There was this lady that keeps screaming at her customers including my mum and I as though we owe her money or something. All this for being slow in producing the relevant papers. HELLLLOOO..if I don't bring the paper and you scream I can understand but you are only open for 2 and a half hours (Yes..they are open from 9.30am to 12pm and they wont issue the numbers after that) and the remaining 4hours or so you are going to end up drinking coffee and chatting away. Why don't you treat your customers nice a bit.
Just a bit

To top it all of, the payment counter does not even have a RM1. The passport cost RM154. So we gave her RM155 and she said no change. What is the payment counter for without RM1? I was totally clueless.

We got everything done by 10.30am and I sent my mum back to PuduRaya and I went back Sunway.

My mum and I will be going there again for another dosage of the screaming lady to collect the passport...soon.

Just Been Kissed

My summer semester has official come to an end. I have no freaking confidence in the paper that I have just written. Hopefully Ting Ding Ding will be generous enough to close an eye while marking my paper...hopefully.

Two days ago I was back in Melaka for Thaipusam (You can read about Thaipusam here). Some of my friends were nice enough to wish me Happy Thaipusam, although Thaipusam is not a celebration, more like an religious occasion for us Hindus. I have been carrying a milk pot for the past 13 years and this year is my 14th. It is the simplest form to fulfill your vow.

Devotees carrying milk pot

Some of the more extreme devotees

While I driving back after lunch the very same day, a bugger (no offense to you TPK) was waiting in at the traffic light, reading newspaper. then when the light turned green, his wife sitting in the passenger seat screamed at him saying the traffic light has changed. Without looking if the road in front him is clear, he pressed on the accelerator and with a loud 'BANG, CRASH, THUD', he 'kissed' a stationery Proton Wira in front of him. Unfortunately for me, the driver in the Wira was me.

I don't know why but the moment I heard the load crash, the first thing occurred to me was, "Oh shit, who did I bang?!" The my mom who was sitting at the back seat was like, "Aiyoyo..kaadiah yevano eedicheta (someone banged our car)!!!". Come to think about it now, my mom's action was very funny.

Then I got out to check the damage. My bumper was bent and lowered. The Chinese guy who banged me was very apologetic. He offered to change the bumper and everything was settled without any hassle.

Kissed on the butt

About a month back, while my house is still under renovation, the Wira was always parked outside the house and one night some drunk Manipal student got angry because he couldn't get a kiss from his girlfriend, so he decided to 'kiss' my car instead and realized he could be caught for 'molesting' my car, so he ran away. The condition of my car now is very depressing after being 'molested multiple times' thanks to other horny cars getting attracted to my car.

Kissed on the cheek

But my mom told he all those dents have been fixed. So lets all hope for the best and
LONG LIVE MY WIRA!!!!

=.='

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