Monday blues and black mood don’t mix well.

 

Those and there were no new surgery cases and I was the only one present in my batch as the doctor usually comes at 11.30 am.

Plus shitty nurses. You guys just wait, I’ll have my revenge someday.

 

Feeling utterly depressed, I found myself alone at Cubbon Park, a 15-minute walk from Sindhi Hospital.

 

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Cubbon Park is a 300-acre park which is further divided into 7-8 smaller parks. You can take your pick which one you prefer.

 

Wanting to avoid distractions from passing vehicles, I went deeper till I found a secluded surrounding. Just as I was making myself comfortable on a bench under a tree, a middle-age man passed by.

 

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Based on his clothes, I assumed he was on his morning jog so I wasn’t bothered.

Until he addressed me. Kacau daun, man. I wasn’t sure I heard him quite right so I just went,

“Huh?” with a blur face.

“I love you.”

A further, “Huh??” followed.

“I think we’ll enjoy being together.”

Alright, I’ve just met a psycho. So I replied,

“English, no.” while shaking my head. A trick I mastered in a train in Rome. When you want an easy escape, pretend you don’t understand English.

“What language do you speak?”, he asked further.

I stayed silent and shook my head, indicating I didn’t understand his question.

“What’s your name?”

On impulse I answered, “Alia.”, seeing as I was messaging her at that time. Bad move.

 

He went away. I followed him with my eyes; yup, he was sitting on another bench just a few meters away from me.

 

I guess my senses wasn’t working at that time for I settled down on the same spot and opened the story book I brought.

 

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Um, I forgot I wasn’t supposed to understand English. And yet there I was, reading an English novel. Right.

 

Then the crazy man started calling out my name. Or rather, my friend’s name.

“Alia. Alia. Aliaaaaa.”

I ignored him and tried to concentrate on my reading.

 

A moment later, he appeared in front of me again.

“Do you want this?”, he asked.

“Huh?” Brows furrowed and forehead wrinkled, by this time I was already feeling annoyed.

“Do you want this?”, this time he pointed towards his pants.

 

His manhood was hanging out of his opened zipper. In public.

OMG I’D JUST ENCOUNTERED A PERVERT!!!!!

 

A look of horror registered on my face and I instantly picked up my bag and started walking fast in the opposite direction.

 

I’m sure he was sane as he started to mumble, “Sorry, sorry.”. Sane or not, I wasn’t gonna stay and find out!

 

Cis, I came to clear my head, you semakkan lagi.

 

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Dah la pakai baju kurung. I stood out like a sore thumb in the park.

 

I moved on to another park, all the while looking back to make sure he wasn’t following me. It didn’t help that I’d just finished reading a book about a woman being stalked during the weekend.

 

I chose an open space this time. Took some pictures, watched the squirrels chasing each other, listened to music until it was time to go back to the hospital. Another 15 minutes walk.

 

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Afterwards, when I told the incident to my friends, they scolded me for

a) Going to the park alone without telling anyone with my phone on silent mode.

b) Not making my escape when he started talking to me in the first place.

c) Sat at the park for another 40 minutes before leaving after that.

 

I, on the other hand, found the whole thing as a new experience. Not a good one, but an experience nonetheless.

I wasn’t scared, it was more of feeling disgusted I guess. Probably because I’d seen a lot of those…..thingy during clinical postings. I’d even palpated the scrotum bare-handed before. One of the perks of being a medical student I’d say. NOT.

 

But all in all, alhamdulillah nothing happened.

 

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Sucking on a strawberry lollipop, something I haven’t had in a long time.

 

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The weather was perfect

 

Being in Bangalore, I admit I’m wrapped in a false sense of security. I feel safe, something I don’t feel back in Malaysia.

 

There are moments when I feel like watching movies alone at night, or going shopping. I have no problem walking home from JP park in the dark or going back from MG Road by myself at midnight.

 

I hate being dependent on others, so I taught myself to not be afraid to be by myself (that’s why I’ve a strict no ghost/horror movies policy) Sure, it’s dangerous. But I love it, I guess. I craved the solitude.

 

Knowing this habit of mine, the only thing my dad told me before I boarded the plane was, “Don’t go anywhere alone.”

My first week back here, I’d broken my words to him 😛

 

I won’t say I’ll stop this habit of mine, but I’ll try to be much more careful next time *gives a hard kick to Common Sense and Instincts*

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