You cry because you have no shoes, until you see someone who has no feet
A story of a little old lady.

Today, when I was playing with my phone while waiting for the ktm to proceed my usual ritual of migrating from klang to Setapak, when I saw an old lady.

She looks like any old lady. In fact, she was so normal she could easily be my grandmother, or yours perhaps. She was probably in her mid sixties, chinese and on top her head is a mop of silvery white hair, so white that not a strand of black can be seen. Hair pinned up and tied into a neat ponytail, she decended down the stairs, slowly. Careful with her steps, limping slightly. Holding on to the railing throughout the whole process. The other hand holding on to this plastic bag. She looked so normal.

Then she did something that made me feel so terrible. She did this:


Not caring about the scutinizing stares of others, she rummages through the trash. Then she went to the other dustbin and rummages through it as well.

Unfortunately, she found nothing valuable. So she looked around for more dustbins. Upon spotting none, she walked away.


Alone. Under the scorching hot sun. Frail and old. She walks alone.

How far does she walk everyday to collect stuffs that people have discarded? What have she done so wrong to be condemned with such fate?

Little old lady, are you just an unfortunate victim of karma?

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