It had only been a few blocks away from my confined dwelling when perspiration started to drench my pristine cotton white shirt; turning it stiff and constricting heavily onto my chest. The taxi driver was resolute to languish under the heat – for he apparently wasn't willing to incur expenses on privileged luxuries such as air conditioning; judging on the rickety deflated seats, nonfunctioning seat belts and the smeared dusty interior. The cab sped through the bustling market area, rumbling and juddering with every pothole encounter, giving so little heed to dashing pedestrians; sporadically swerving to dodge them.
As I dejectedly gazed out at the enclosed cage of towering lifeless buildings; its nondescript facade and its razor-sharp edges, I marveled perplexingly for the first time at the usual surrounding. "How strange?", I thought to myself. The way the cement empire sprawly erects derelict structures like a sophisticated wall – all of them rigid squares; blocks of squares – made me feel like I didn't belong. Never have I observed the city from an outsider's perspective nor had it dawned on me how desolate and alien the city really is.
It's not entirely lifeless, this city. During this scorching season of the year, the dry streets are painted with the vibrant hue of the majestic yellow Padauk flowers. The sight of such a beauty made the relentless heat a bit more bearable. Underneath the massive canopies were people seeking shade and respite from the exhausting hostile weather. Wheeling above them are the endearing little sparrows zealously playing and chirping, though their songs were muffled by the anger of the rushing cars. It's so heartwarming to have even a glimpse of the birds – I sometimes envied them.
I was suddenly banished from my thoughts by the dripping sweat on my lips. I instinctively wiped it off with my already sweaty hands which did not help much with the plight. Seeing the cab driver from the back mirror also dealing with the heat, I irritatingly asked myself when he would just turn the AC on. The climate wasn't suited for anyone to be outside unprotected. As I inwardly complained about the situation, the cab slowed down from its rampage. We were approaching the crossroad and the traffic loomed ahead.
The wind, accompanied by miles of cars, came to a halt. My eyes adjusted to the static; there was nothing to see except the mossed cracking walls on my side and the endless trails of cars behind. Hovering at a distance is the traffic light dominantly blazing the color red.
My eyes impulsively locked onto a figure emerging behind a car not so far away. It was just a boy scurrying hither and thither while lifting up strings of dangling golden flowers which were a third of his size to windows of potential customers. My heart sank with profound sorrow. With just a mere tattered hat and an oversized handed-down tank top, he was toiling under the wrath of the broiling sun for some meager change. Window after window turned his offered down but he kept going. As he approached nearer to me, I could see that the merciless sun has taken a toll on his soft feeble skin. He was no older than 8.