Singing In The Rain.

I'm singing in the rain
Just singing in the rain
What a glorious feelin'
I'm happy again
I'm laughing at clouds
So dark up above
The sun's in my heart
And I'm ready for love
Let the stormy clouds chase
Everyone from the place
Come on with the rain
I've a smile on my face
I walk down the lane
With a happy refrain
Just singin',
Singin' in the rain

- Gene Kelly


There I was standing alone under a tree seeking the bare shade it could afford me. The sky above, perhaps I should say clouds, literally opened and let loose a drenching pour on everyone below. But hey, didn't I tell you I wanted to be a macho man, standing bravely against the onslaught of harmless water that fall from the sky? No? Well, I do.

I mean, growing up watching a heck of a lot of western movies, the parts that I really like is when the hero stands in the open ground with water dripping down his hat (if its a detective movie) or helmet and poncho (if its war) and with a cigarette in his mouth. How - with all the water that's flowing down - he manage to pull more than a drag, I have yet to figure. But the image of such heroic(?) stand was something I really love. I wanted to try it but have always been afraid of standing in the rain without any sense or purpose. I mean, being caught in the rain always brings me down with a fever.

Earlier today, I thought, perhaps, this was my moment of glory! I had been waiting there for the past two and a half hour, waiting for Wak to pick up my calls, waiting for more black and white suits to show up, waiting while temperature and humidity rise ever higher...waiting, waiting. And then when they come, they come in a pack! Together with the unexpected pour! And I said to myself "This is it! This is my moment of glory!" Only to remember that I was fasting, and thus was not carrying any. Tough luck, may be next time. Anyway, there were no fair maidens around for me to show my macho defiance...against water from the sky.

While standing there like the big fool I am, the Bar Council representatives ran out like he was being chased by a bloodhound or perhaps, water? Close on his heels came the hounds, news-hounds I should add. Oops, I'm one of them too, thank you. But they - the Bar Council reps - got into a car and drove off. Strangely, I felt like barking and running after the car. Woof! Woof! But they got away. Never mind, there's Wak!

We got into my car and drove down the road heading towards the mosque. Basically, I was playing follow-the-leader with the cars in front as I had not a single idea where we should head to! As we reach the roundabout, we saw a huge crowd in a circle and instinctively knew that it was the Bar Council Press Conference. I stopped the car for Wak and Hilmi (Wak's son) to step out and cover the PC. Hey! It was still raining and I did not feel like being a macho-man again, mind you.

Less than 5 minutes later, Wak and son came running back into the car. We are off now on our next quest: searching for the spot where Wak left his car! In his haste to follow the protest march on foot, he did not make a mental note of the spot. Thus, we made a short tour of Putrajaya. Once found, we each made our way; while he goes off to cover another event, I made my way to Shah Alam and later, home. By the time I made it back, I was already sneezing my nose off, and head felt like it was casted in iron.

It was certainly not by any chance the best of coverage we ever had. But, we tried. A voluntary trio of news-hounds in an effort to put that extra news that may never see the daylight in mainstream media. None of us ever had any training in either audio/video, camera use or even reporting. We are, as I logged sometime in September 2006, a bunch of bidan terjun newspeople. So, do excuse us for being croaky when ever we sing in the rain.