A breakfast at the Mamak place

An old Chinese man sits nursing a kopi O Beng,
Two Banglas discussing things back home,
Three Malays talking about kenduri,
And then there was me.
A bearded Sikh on the phone,
Two Chinese devouring fried mee,
Three salesmen checking invoices,
Amidst a cacophony of multilingual voices.

Astro on the screen, an NG documentary,
A Chinese man calling for more kari,
The local doctor taking a breather,
A break from his clinic just round the corner.
His teh tarik arrives with foam but less sugar.
The Sikh man is still on the phone.

A call goes out for three rotis
With dhall mixed with fish kari.
There was a time when I was a way,
For several lonely years and a day,
How i missed this atmosphere,