More than two decades ago when I was a Minah Kilang as we were called in those days, I had two good friends, a beautiful Indian girl named Rani and Kak Laila, anak mami from Air Itam. We worked on rotating shifts, morning, afternoon and night shift. Each of us had our favorite shift. I enjoyed morning shift because when the shift ended at 3 p.m, I had plenty of time to go running at Bukit Dumbar. Kak Laila hated night and morning shift, but if they ever asked her to work permanent afternoon shift, she would've had accepted it. We were equally efficient, fast and skilled operators except when we worked on graveyard shift.
It was like part of our brain was left on the pillow at home. And as for Rani, a night owl, she could sit at work station from 11 pm to 7 am minus a couple of trips to a bathroom and 45 minutes meal break without yawning, not even once.
If we didn't get enough sleep, usually by 3 a.m, both Kak Laila and I looked like we'd just woke up from Sleepless Night on Elm Street. Hair was sticking out at wrong directions, an endless trips to a bathroom to splash water on our faces, and that didn't help either. While we, in complete package of red eyes and everything, moved around in slomo like characters 28 Days Later . Every object in front of us appeared to be double or multiple, Rani sat in her chair as cool as cucumber. Even our gorgeous supervisor, six footer Mr. Arumugam didn't look that attractive with our half-functining brain.
But all of us agreed during dinner break at 6:30 pm on afternoon shift was the best time of all. It was the time of the day when we sat together on the dark brown bench at the far corner of the plant having our dinner. It was the time we shared Kak Laila's rice and fish curry with eggplant, Rani's rice and mutton curry and my rice and masak lemak rebung (bamboo shoot) and prawns. I lived with my sister KN then, she did all the cooking. She was and she still is a wicked greatest cook. Kak Laila and Rani were excited to see what was in my tupperware. They had curry almost every day, so whatever I had in my tupperware, they knew it was goning to be different.
Before the end of the year, Kak Laila got married and decided to leave for good. Rani and I attended her wedding, and we teased her mercilessly. When I went to work with another company, we kept in touch for about a year. I went to Rani's open house on Raja Street (off Beach Street) during Deepavali and she told me her family was arranging a marriage for her. Her face was glowing.
"Don't forget to invite me, Ana when you get married."
"Oh....no Rani, not until I see the world."
It was the last time I spoke with Rani. Kak Laila and Rani, I miss you my wonderful friends.
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