Dada 127

A clerk announced that the court was in session and it seemed at that very moment, the air conditioning cranked and slowly lumbered into action, filling the chambers with its groan. The judges, two of them in purple besides the one in red came into the courtroom with their files and very quickly took their places on the high platform. A small man in the black robe sat very rigid on the chair in the middle and placed his cap on the bench in front of him. He wiped his small head with a pale blue handkerchief and declared the proceedings officially open. The journalists already had their pens in their hands and all wore the same slightly mocking looks on their faces. This was particularly true of the foreign correspondents. I noticed that the man from Kuala Lumpur was trying to affect the same facial, slightly bored expression. The exception amongst them was one who looked much younger than the others and wore a blue silk suit and floral tie. He had left his pen in front of him on the table and had turned his neck and was staring at me. On his angular face with its shadows and no trace of fat around his collar, I could see his very bright eyes examining me carefully, yet without expressing anything that I could put my finger on. I had the bizarre impression of looking at myself like looking through the lens of a movie camera, as if I was in a film