THE nondescript standalone structure has been in that spot in Jalan Sungai Kantan for many moons. Since the days of the fourth prime minister. Since the time PM No. 9's and my hair gave up the blackness and happiness of youth.
There are no walls save for the partially boarded up kitchen. I walk carefully on the stony verge towards it to buy mee soto-takeaway.
A few people are eating inside, two to a table. They wear smiles and freshness on their faces as they tuck into their meals. It's "freedom day" for them, just as it was for the English on July 19.
I hear one person exclaim, "PM baru lah tu!", and another say, "Tengoklah apa yang akan berubah".
They must be talking about the politics of the day. I wonder about their expectations. What do they want from their leaders, from the 'new' administration?
Datuk Seri Ismail Sabri Yaakob must have answered some of their questions on Sunday evening in his first address to the nation as premier.
But not every question.
It was certainly not a rousing Churchillian speech. But maybe that's not what we need right now. Plain speaking is good enough.
Anyway, I think I can distill the thoughts of the folks in the little mee soto shop into an acronym, JOPI. It stands for Justice, Opportunity, Peace and Integrity.
Everyone wants JOPI, right? But in times of great uncertainty, what we want is further away than even a dream can reach: like an ant hoping to cross an ocean.
To illustrate the point: we did not face terror in recent weeks, but hapless souls in Afghanistan did.
So have countless folks suffered in Myanmar, Gaza, Tigray, Syria and Lebanon. And in places whose names I dare not mention, just as the wizard Gandalf did not dare say.
These people have, arguably, little of JOPI.
Whatever has been built, whatever was dreamed, is now shrouded in an undying mist.
It's no wonder so many Afghans want to leave the country. And so many Myanmar people feel helpless.
They cry:
What if my son has no opportunity to learn as much as he wants, and become anything he seeks, because of poverty or persecution or prejudice?
What if the enemy of peace is just one step outside my front door?
What if injustice is the law of the land and family, as it tragically was for Shakespeare's King Lear?
What if the integrity of public officials is merely a mask, to be put on only in convenient times?
You can't help but weep for people in these countries, who are torn and tossed to nowhere by merciless winds from the corridors of power.
But in the mee soto shop, and in every corner of this nation, it must be obvious we are probably miles away, figuratively speaking, from the misery in the lands I mentioned.
Still, it would be a fiction to say there is no worry in our hearts that justice, opportunity, peace and integrity could be insidiously lost to us too.
Long after premiers one after the other, and the mee soto shop, call it a day, citizens will still owe it to each other to make sure this loss does not happen. Or we can, sadly, choose to clap our hands in Orwellian fashion.
The writer is NST production editor
