I just had dinner with Dad and Uncle Dan, dad's classmate who had just returned briefly from San Franciso. After dinner, we had to send Uncle Dan home. On our way to Cheras, while waiting for the traffic light, I saw a motorcyclist walking towards a taxi in the middle of the road. The traffic light had turned green, the other cars were moving slowly, but the taxi didn't move from its place. "Hey, bro, wake up!" The motorcyclist yelled in Malay. The taxi driver, a middle-aged Indian man, didn't react. His eyes were closed, his mouth agape and his head slumped forward. The motorcyclist shook the driver's shoulder, still yelling, but to no avail. Is he unconscious or dead? Uncle Dan and dad looked with concern. But the cars never stopped moving, and gradually, the motorcyclist, the taxi driver and the taxi were left behind, disappearing from my sight and into the night.