Chapter Three
He sits at his desk toying with metal ball pendulums, a little science demonstration of the effects of momentum. As one ball swings down and hits the balls at rest, the energy of its momentum is transferred to the ball at the end, thus resulting in its continuation of the upswing.
Click, click, click.
Momentum gradually dies out, sapped by such things as air friction and gravity. In his case, it was just being there in his office, without much to do but sit and stare into space, watching as his boss passes by, on some non-work related errand no doubt.
It was a downturn in business and with the year coming to a close, clients weren’t too interested in new investments. They were more interested in saving away for the holidays that seemed to clump up this year. Deepavali, Aidil Fitri, Christmas and New Year’s usually involved heavy spending and not much thought about the stocks and bonds and other financial instruments that John brokered in.
He had existing clients to carry him through the leaner months that would breach into the soon to bloom new year, and there’d be the year end bonuses but there still wasn’t anything for him to do, trapped in the office. What he couldn’t understand was why his boss wouldn’t let anyone roam free, even when there was a proven dry period at this very moment each year.
Glancing at his open organiser, blank pages stare back lifelessly at him, apathy no doubt the emotion they’d have if they could speak. Even his computer monitor seems a bit duller than usual, and the lights overhead dimmer than they’d ever been.
I need to go out and do something, he thought, wondering who he knew whom he could meet up with at short notice. The desk phone rings.
“Good morning, this is John speaking.”
“Hello stranger, it doesn’t sound like you’re having a good morning at all. Liar.”
“Rachel! If I could see you right now, you’d be a sight for sore eyes. In fact, I was just thinking about seeing someone and having coffee. I need to get out of here.”
“My sentiments exactly. Bukit Bintang in half an hour?”
“I’m on my way.”

John’s office is close enough to be within walking distance of Bukit Bintang, shoppers’ paradise and focal point of consumer business in Kuala Lumpur. But seeing as how rain seems to be the mood of the moment, he decides to take his car instead. As much as the roads here are infamous for their logjams, that only happens during rush hour. Nearing the boulevard, the stream of tourists and people with basically nothing much to do make their way to the hunkering malls and sidewalk cafes that line the streets.
These were people who were leisurely spending their time with not a worry in the world, he pondered. But it was only a moment of their dreary lives, the rest of it spent enslaved to work and earning a living. The lucky ones wouldn’t have to work for the sake of working. They’d sit in their high chairs and mock the poor souls who did have to toil and sweat and dedicate themselves to a meaningless transaction of pieces of paper or digits in the ethereal world of banking institutions.



They hug and kiss cheeks before stepping inside and joining the short line to the counter.
“My, look who’s slimmed down since I last saw her, what, months ago?” He gave Rachel an appreciative look – she in her pin-striped suit, looking as if she could jump out of it and model for Victoria Secret at a moment’s notice.
“It’s been four months and yes, thank you, it also took me four months to get down to this dress size. You know, I think not seeing you and having this full cream milk coffee is doing me a whole world of good.” She comments playfully.
“It looks like I’ll only be seeing you again in February, then. Think I’d better make this time last.” He gently grabs her by the shoulders, measures her portrait with his fingers and makes a camera shutter sound.
Rachel giggles her tinkling laugh, a laugh John wouldn’t mind hearing every day. He wondered why they’d never gotten together more intimately and couldn’t quite find the answer.

“So what’s been going on with you? It’s been such a long time.” She quizzes as she takes out a cigarette that he promptly puts a light to.
“Oh, you know, the regular go to work everyday until it’s the weekend then get myself slightly sloshed till Monday comes again. Rinse and repeat. Rinse and repeat.” He shrugs non-committal and taps his cigarette into the ashtray on the small café table.
“No women to occupy yourself with? I’m surprised John Salaban. I’d have thought you’d be swimming in women, charming them to death and tickling them with your peculiar sense of humour.” She bats her eyelids questioningly.
“I dunno Rache, I was thinking of giving up on women who’s only thoughts are partying and clinging to you for your financial support. There’s more to it than sex you know.”
“Hello mister, where’d you hide John. Is he still in there somewhere? Hello, John?” Rachel bobs around, making like she’s looking for something.
He grins and looks around behind him. “I think he fell off a cliff somewhere along the way. Oh there he is, in that beemer feeling sorry for everyone else.”
“Well, I’m glad.” She pauses and after the slightest moment of hesitation, takes John’s hands in hers. “That means we can finally get together.”




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