People I met in this region - Mad Ali
There is someone I always wanted to write about. You see, one of the first people I met when I came to this country some years ago was this mad person who walked up and down the road outside my office.
You would appreciate that it is not very nice to take picture of a dishevelled mad person so in order to visualise him, you would need to exercise some powers of imagination here. Let me describe him.
He is about 1.75 metre and is of either Indian / Pakistani / Middle-Eastern descent. He has dark olive skin. Like all mad persons roaming around the town, he has no shoes and has messy greyish hair. He looks to be about 45+ years old and he is wearing the same old dirty brown shirt and trousers for the last 4 years since I saw him. He has a short beard growing. I am not being racist here but I have taken to calling him Ali since he is obviously a muslim (explain later).
His hair is of course, overgrown like the grass in my garden but strangely enough, he seems to cut it every now and then. Either that or some kind barber cuts it for him monthly. Even his beard is trimmed at times. He is slim to the point of being gaunt but he never appears to be starving. At times though, he looked like a shrivelled raisin from a distance.
Where Ali comes from is a mystery. I asked the locals before and they all said that Ali just appeared one day. What he does everyday however, is not a mystery. He walks. And walks. And walks some more. I suspects he has a set route he must walk each day. He seems to start somewhere in the vicinity of a temple near my office at about 7 am and walks down the road to the Khuadin market and back. The whole route is about 10 km and he does the circuit several times a day. He typically finishes his "work" at about 7 pm when I drive home from the office. There are times however when he has to walk overtime. I once saw him walking resolutely even at 10 pm.
Now you may think that walking 10 km a day several times is actually no big deal. But Ali obviously has a problem with his leg. He limps as he walks so the whole process looks pretty painful even to me. At times, he does more than just walk. On Sunday, Ali will walk a few steps and then goes on one knee and raises his hands in an act of supplication as if he is praying (thus the muslim reference). Walk a few steps. On one knee praying. Walk a few steps and then goes on one knee praying. The sheer bloodied-mindedness of his routine is awesome.
The one thing that I admire about Ali is that he is god damned determined as only a mad person could be. Rain and shine, Ali can be found walking outside the road to my office in that ungainly gait of his. It could be raining like cats and dogs or less than 6 degrees in winter and Ali could still be seen walking around in his familiar dirty brown shirt and trousers. Nothing stops him. A pyschotic killer with a hockey mask may be standng in front of him brandishing an axe and Ali would still just walk over his ass. Wild, untamed dogs in Vientiane here are scared of him. Fann Wong may be winking at Ali and he still won't be distracted (I know I would be). Hell, Gandalf could be blocking his way doing his "Thou shalt not pass!" shit and mad Ali will still try to walk through him until Gandalf gives up and goes back to Minas Tirith in embarrassement.
Sometimes, Ali hobbles as if the pain is too much but he never wavers in walking his route. It is as if he is chasing something in the distance - a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow which only he can see. Perhaps some desert mirage that wavers in the distance and contantly beckoning to him like a siren song. Or perhaps he is just the Lao version of Forest Gump. No matter what, I never see him begged for money or food. All he does is walk and talk to himself and pray after a few steps. He walks at the side of the road and is never fearful of reckless cars or dogs which bark at him. It is fucking amazing, I tell you. He is such a familiar sight around my area that drivers don't bother to honk him off the road anymore. He is completely oblivious to the surroundings, driven only by his desire to walk till the end of time.
Once, I bought a packet of rice and drove up to Ali one evening. I rolled down my car window and offered him the packet of food. Ali ignored me completely, muttered something to himself and continued limping towards his destination. I mean, I just got my ass punked out by a mad man. CO got nothing on mad Ali.
I think the people around here have been supporting mad Ali on his unfathomable quest. Sometimes, when it is really cold, I saw Ali wearing a nice woolen jacket. Like I mentioned above, someone has obviously been giving him a hair cut, giving him food and possibly even a place to sleep. I strongly suspect the monks of the temple near my place have been taking care of him. You got to give kudos to the Buddhist monks in Laos. Buddhists, muslims or christians, they don't give a shit and will extend a helping hand if you need it. Buddhism rocks.
I am writing something on mad Ali because he is actually the inspiration behind the blog's name. I think mad Ali is in a strange way, cool. Whatever tragedies that take away the man's sanity in the past, the man never disturbs people in his current madness. All he wants in life is to walk and walk till he can't get up any more. He doesn't beg, steal and be a nuisance. I find that strangely admirable. If for some reasons I lost my mind, I want to be like him and just walk up and down Singapore not distubing anyone. People along Orchard Road may not be that supportive of me though.
Post-ed : I have not seen Ali for a few weeks. Hope some idiot didn't run him down.
You would appreciate that it is not very nice to take picture of a dishevelled mad person so in order to visualise him, you would need to exercise some powers of imagination here. Let me describe him.
He is about 1.75 metre and is of either Indian / Pakistani / Middle-Eastern descent. He has dark olive skin. Like all mad persons roaming around the town, he has no shoes and has messy greyish hair. He looks to be about 45+ years old and he is wearing the same old dirty brown shirt and trousers for the last 4 years since I saw him. He has a short beard growing. I am not being racist here but I have taken to calling him Ali since he is obviously a muslim (explain later).
His hair is of course, overgrown like the grass in my garden but strangely enough, he seems to cut it every now and then. Either that or some kind barber cuts it for him monthly. Even his beard is trimmed at times. He is slim to the point of being gaunt but he never appears to be starving. At times though, he looked like a shrivelled raisin from a distance.
Where Ali comes from is a mystery. I asked the locals before and they all said that Ali just appeared one day. What he does everyday however, is not a mystery. He walks. And walks. And walks some more. I suspects he has a set route he must walk each day. He seems to start somewhere in the vicinity of a temple near my office at about 7 am and walks down the road to the Khuadin market and back. The whole route is about 10 km and he does the circuit several times a day. He typically finishes his "work" at about 7 pm when I drive home from the office. There are times however when he has to walk overtime. I once saw him walking resolutely even at 10 pm.
Now you may think that walking 10 km a day several times is actually no big deal. But Ali obviously has a problem with his leg. He limps as he walks so the whole process looks pretty painful even to me. At times, he does more than just walk. On Sunday, Ali will walk a few steps and then goes on one knee and raises his hands in an act of supplication as if he is praying (thus the muslim reference). Walk a few steps. On one knee praying. Walk a few steps and then goes on one knee praying. The sheer bloodied-mindedness of his routine is awesome.
The one thing that I admire about Ali is that he is god damned determined as only a mad person could be. Rain and shine, Ali can be found walking outside the road to my office in that ungainly gait of his. It could be raining like cats and dogs or less than 6 degrees in winter and Ali could still be seen walking around in his familiar dirty brown shirt and trousers. Nothing stops him. A pyschotic killer with a hockey mask may be standng in front of him brandishing an axe and Ali would still just walk over his ass. Wild, untamed dogs in Vientiane here are scared of him. Fann Wong may be winking at Ali and he still won't be distracted (I know I would be). Hell, Gandalf could be blocking his way doing his "Thou shalt not pass!" shit and mad Ali will still try to walk through him until Gandalf gives up and goes back to Minas Tirith in embarrassement.
Sometimes, Ali hobbles as if the pain is too much but he never wavers in walking his route. It is as if he is chasing something in the distance - a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow which only he can see. Perhaps some desert mirage that wavers in the distance and contantly beckoning to him like a siren song. Or perhaps he is just the Lao version of Forest Gump. No matter what, I never see him begged for money or food. All he does is walk and talk to himself and pray after a few steps. He walks at the side of the road and is never fearful of reckless cars or dogs which bark at him. It is fucking amazing, I tell you. He is such a familiar sight around my area that drivers don't bother to honk him off the road anymore. He is completely oblivious to the surroundings, driven only by his desire to walk till the end of time.
Once, I bought a packet of rice and drove up to Ali one evening. I rolled down my car window and offered him the packet of food. Ali ignored me completely, muttered something to himself and continued limping towards his destination. I mean, I just got my ass punked out by a mad man. CO got nothing on mad Ali.
I think the people around here have been supporting mad Ali on his unfathomable quest. Sometimes, when it is really cold, I saw Ali wearing a nice woolen jacket. Like I mentioned above, someone has obviously been giving him a hair cut, giving him food and possibly even a place to sleep. I strongly suspect the monks of the temple near my place have been taking care of him. You got to give kudos to the Buddhist monks in Laos. Buddhists, muslims or christians, they don't give a shit and will extend a helping hand if you need it. Buddhism rocks.
I am writing something on mad Ali because he is actually the inspiration behind the blog's name. I think mad Ali is in a strange way, cool. Whatever tragedies that take away the man's sanity in the past, the man never disturbs people in his current madness. All he wants in life is to walk and walk till he can't get up any more. He doesn't beg, steal and be a nuisance. I find that strangely admirable. If for some reasons I lost my mind, I want to be like him and just walk up and down Singapore not distubing anyone. People along Orchard Road may not be that supportive of me though.
Post-ed : I have not seen Ali for a few weeks. Hope some idiot didn't run him down.
posted by Captain Obvious at 11:32 PM
1 Comments:
This sounds rather sad.
Maybe he can't walk anymore?
Have you asked anyone?
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