This story is about how one woman’s husband left for work, got kidnapped, became a best man at a stranger’s wedding, and somehow still kept his job.
You know how some mornings just feel normal? One minute, I was preparing breakfast as my husband was heading to work. The next, I get a text saying he’s been ‘kidnapped’ and is apparently on the way to a wedding. Yes, you read that right—kidnapped. To a wedding.
At first, I thought he was joking. I even rolled my eyes so hard I probably saw the past. But this is Malaysia, and sometimes real life is wilder than a Bollywood movie. I checked the message again just to be sure. Yup, no typos. Just pure chaos. My man had been hijacked straight off our driveway like some sort of neighborhood celebrity with bad luck and good timing.
The Sudden ‘Bollywood’ Kidnapping
It was supposed to be your average Monday morning. My husband had grabbed his car keys, kissed me on the cheek, and stepped out the door to leave for work. Nothing unusual. Then, five minutes later, my phone buzzed with a message from him: ‘Kidnapped. OTW to wedding. Will explain later.’
I stared at the screen. Was this some kind of new excuse to skip work? A midlife crisis in the form of spontaneous role-playing? But then I noticed something—he didn’t even use emojis. That’s when I knew: he was dead serious. This man loves his emojis. He sends me a thumbs-up even when I tell him I bought bread.
I called him immediately. No answer. I called again. Straight to voicemail. By the third call, I was standing in the doorway, squinting at the spot where his car should’ve been. Except…it was still there. Parked neatly in the driveway, gleaming in the sun. Now I was fully awake. Coffee forgotten. Mind racing.
That’s when I spotted our neighbor, Uncle Raj, standing outside in his dark brown kain pelikat and white singlet, hands on his hips, looking slightly bemused. I’m convinced this man has a sixth sense for this sort of thing—if a chicken even sneezes weirdly in the kampung, Uncle Raj is already outside squinting suspiciously at it.
“Uncle, did you see my husband leave just now?” I asked, bracing myself.
Uncle Raj turned to me, eyes twinkling with amusement. “Eh, I think your husband kena kidnap lah.” He said it the same way someone might say, “Eh, I think your cat is in my garden.” Casual jer. Before I could even react, he pulled out his Samsung brick of a phone and showed me the video he’d taken. Of course, he had video.
A white van—the kind you’d expect to be carrying supplies for a pasar malam stall—screeched to a stop in front of our house. The side door flew open. Three guys in matching baju Melayu jumped out, grabbed my husband like they were in the climax of a Bollywood action movie, and yanked him into the van. The whole thing lasted about 15 seconds, and I swear I saw one of them wave cheerfully to Uncle Raj before slamming the door shut. The van sped off before my husband could even scream. I stood there, jaw practically touching the pavement.
I was about to call PDRM when my phone buzzed again. Another message from my husband.
‘They thought I was someone else, but they say now I ‘look just like him’ and they’re short on time.”
Short on time? What is this, a heist movie? I pictured him in the back of that van, wedged between crates of bunga telur and stacks of satin sashes, probably trying to convince them that he was late for work and not, in fact, their long-lost best man.
I grabbed my car keys, muttered a quick prayer, and sped to the address he sent me.
The wedding was already in full swing when I arrived—tables covered in white cloth, nasi minyak being served, a live kompang group playing loudly enough to wake the entire neighborhood. And there, next to the groom and bride, was my husband, looking like an accidental extra in a period drama.
Someone had dressed him in an oversized Baju Melayu with a samping that nearly reached his ankles and a borrowed songkok that was slightly too big. He was smiling awkwardly while the groom patted his shoulder like they’d been best friends for years. The bride? She looked like she was suppressing laughter with every polite nod. I wasn’t sure if I should be impressed or horrified.
While I was still processing the scene, my husband casually pulled out his phone, snapped a selfie with the bride and groom, and sent it to his supervisor with the caption: ‘Gonna need an MC for today. Got kidnapped. Will bring back cake.’
Incredibly, his supervisor replied within five minutes. This man was apparently on leave himself, sending back nothing more than a laughing emoji and, ‘You better bring back that cake.’ And that, somehow, was that. The universe aligned, no questions asked, as if spontaneous wedding attendance by force was just part of the Malaysian work culture.
Luckily, the real best man finally arrived—apparently stuck in traffic—and my husband was released with a bunga telur and some wedding cake as parting gifts. On the way home, he couldn’t stop laughing. “I mean… I should have gone to work, but I needed a break. Might as well get kidnapped.”
When Life Gives You the Perfect Excuse…
At the end of the day, sometimes life hands you an excuse that serves as a reminder that truth is often stranger than fiction. So, the next time you find yourself late for work, just know—it could always be weirder!
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