As usual, the train was squashed with hundred of people sitting, standing and clutching the grip to sustain their stability. When we reached Bukit Jalil, a pregnant woman stepped in and I offered my seat as all seats were occupied. I plugged in my earphone and danced quietly to the songs. We hit Sg. Besi and more people jumped into the coach including an old uncle. He stepped in with his expressionless vacuous look on his conventional outmoded batik and long pants with a pair of slipper. I was trying to find him a seat unfortunately, there was none. As he stood there, holding the pole in the middle of the coach, I smiled while continued reading news on my phone.