From Kajang To Malacca.

There was little point in going home after a good wedding lunch of a plate full of nice fluffy basmathi rice, creamy dalca, ayam masak merah, daging rendang, acar, sayur campur, air sirap merah-merah best best, and a hard boiled egg in a tiny ceramic cup adorned on the sides with all manner of ribbons of every color in the rainbow. You must be made of stone if you don't feel the urgent sense to marry someone holding this in your hand but I was too full to be thinking of marrying someone under the circumstances and it being a week-end and all, any guy with a bit of brain in him knew that Tok Kadhi don't marry people on a Sunday evening when the sky looked every bit that it would rain any time soon.

And so we decided to take a slow drive to Malacca and enjoy the evening remaining talking about anything that came to mind.

In Malacca we decided there was little point to make a return trip all the way up again and so we said to each other, let's put up a night in this fine historical town. But first thing first and so I said, I think you are a little overdressed, and boy that felt good to be able to finally say that. And so we drove around town looking for a departmental store to get us some decent clothes, toothbrush, toothpaste and things I don't remember. She got herself a nice pair of cotton pantaloons, a blouse, a shirt and a batik sarong. We put all this in a bag and checked ourselves into a hotel overlooking the river still thinking how nice it would be if we could pack some of the wedding lunch and eat it all over again here in the hotel room watching ferry, boats and sampans sail down and up the river.

Around eight or thereabout we took a stroll to Dataran Pahlawan looking for a decent restaurant to have a decent dinner, something spicy to remind ourselves that we were now walking on the very ground where spice traders from all over the world used to barter and fight one time in an era long ago forgotten. We were right at the place where it all began. And ended as melodramatic as it started. We walked a great deal until our feet ached so in the end we went back to the hotel to have dinner there which I think was a mistake because the cook burnt my fish and under thawed the meat for her steak. And so I called up the maitre d' to complain and asked the cook to come see for himself what rubbish he had cooked for us but he never turned up and so I said, I am not paying for this. And so the maitre d' called up everyone in town except the mayor to offer a special discount which I thought was very nice of him and so I said, you'd better fire your chef or this fine hotel is going under, mate. He said he'd talk to the management. Of course he won't do that because any man with a bit of brain in him knows that a chef is the number two man in a hotel as far as day to day running of the hotel is concerned and that he is the big guy you have gotta put up with if you want to keep your job.

We went up to our room to sleep off the excitement of the day hoping that tomorrow we won't wake up in jail because anyone could tell that we were not husband and wife on a second or third honeymoon trying to get away from the children so we could have a little naughty time to ourselves, amusing ourselves silly with meaningless jokes.