Kuala Lumpur or KL glitters by night. It is Fritz Lang’s Metropolis where towers and spires of chrome and glass exuding a diamond brilliance stretch towards the skies competing with the glittering stars. The city is a futuristic and grand sonnet in steel. It is also a city of brand names and numerous malls--Southeast Asia's offering to the capitalist gods.
As me and my husband are driven to our bed in the 22-storey tower in the heart of the city with
a lovely rooftop pool in the shadow of the Petronas Towers, we are shocked by the contrast with
our own home city of Kolkata from where we boarded the flight some 4 hours ago. The two cities
are a study in opposites and if there is one place they converge -- that would be in its largesse -- in
welcoming migrants and refugees and offering them a place they can call home on this crowded earth.
It’s two days before Christmas and a nice feeling to wake up to a gorgeous view of the city’s
impressive skyline.
And the first sight on our agenda is Petaling Street with its impressive gates opening on to an older world removed from the glamorous malls and corporate skyscrapers--the city's age-old Chinatown. Once inside, we were greeted by strange snake-like creatures on grills, herbal concoctions being served out of beautiful Chinese teapots in tea shops, vendors selling 'fake originals', stores with a line of roast ducks hanging from
hooks. There were stalls selling longan (a litchi like fruit), stalls selling Chicken Rice and Indian food especially virulent orange tandoori chicken. Most of these stalls encroached on to the road itself, making sure the food was literally in your face, tempting you as you took your next step forward. And if somehow you resisted, then there were the old toothless ladies waving bowls under our noses, a live advertisement for their stalls which were slightly less conspicuously placed. Unable to survive the sensory assault, we stopped at a stall which had a crowd milling around it.Chicken Rice could very well be the national dish of this country, considering its ubiquitous presence just about everywhere -- from the Air Asia flight into the country to mall food court kiosks. Our dish came with a giant bowl of stock, little servings of red chilli paste, sliced cucumbers and a large portion of sliced chicken. The chicken was poached with its shiny outer skin providing nice texture. The reason this dish is so popular is because it’s a simple balancing of flavours and textures--the smooth tender chicken, the sticky grains of rice, the sharp edge of the red chilli, the cool crunch of cucumber and the hot broth to dunk your rice into.
After many icy tender coconut drinks and many miles walked on burning asphalt and air conditioned
mall floors, we decided to make our next food stop at the giant among malls – Berjaya Times Square.
From steamboat restaurants to tropical fruit salads to sushi bars, it was all under one cavernous roof
and like in the adventurous spirit of things, we made our way from one kiosk to the next ordering bits
and bobs of grills and poaches, sushi and fried chicken, shaved ice, coconut and red mung beans, till
we were ready to pop at the seams.
KL despite being the capital city of a predominantly Islamic country, was the proverbial melting
pot of food, language and culture. Its population is largely made up of Malays, Chinese and Indians
with Islam, Hinduism and Buddhism being predominant religions and yet, none of these facts deter
its cosmopolitan crowd from coming out with it Santa Hats and bells and whistles and celebrating
Christmas eve with an unmatched gusto. We were told to make our way to Changkat Bukit Bintang, the busy-buzzy street lined with bars, al fresco restaurants and cafes specializing in food from across the world, this was a street with character and drama. Quiet and sunny during the day, this looked like a street grabbing a quick afternoon siesta in preparation for the big night ahead. As I sipped on fruity cider in a quaint wine shop, we watched the late afternoon sun fade into a dusky orange, I watched the city begin to heave and awaken for KL was a city of the night.
I pondered over the cultural chequered the fabric that clothed this country and marvelled at its ability
to integrate with all. It was a traditional country keenly aware of its history, its religion, its language
and its roots. It was also a supremely liberal country. A small case in point was the fact that I was
sitting in an outdoor cafe, drinking my cider near the heart of a predominantly Muslim city. Across
the road, a Tamilian family in traditional attire were dumping bags of groceries from an international
supermarket chain into the boot of their car. A few streets away, pretty young things were powdering
their noses for a night out on the party strip at Jalan Sultan Ismail. A few intersections away, Chinese
housewives were gathering their pots and pans with simmering soups and crackling roasts and making
their way to the night markets on Petaling Street.
While, we were eating lunch, Bukit Bintang had bedecked herself with tinsel, silver bells and fairy
lights. Even in the sharp humid air, the smell of Christmas cake and mulled wine were hard to miss.
As the muezzin gave the call for the evening prayer, I linked arms with the husband and made our
way back to our temporary home in the clouds only to emerge a few hours later when the Christmas
Eve celebrations were in full swing. Malaysians (the mixed Indian-Chinese and Malay populace), migrants, expats and tourists jostled for space on Bukit Bintang. It was a night that took me back to Park Street in Kolkata, where people of all faiths and all walks of life come together on a brightly decorated stretch of the city, celebrating Christmas, far away from the land of its origin, with great bonhomie and fervour. Maybe the two cities weren't so different after all.
My thoughts were interrupted by a group of bikers who looked straight out of the Terminator series
who had arrived at a pub across us with much fanfare. They just added to the oddball mix of people.
We readjusted our Santa hats with glittering light baubles on its end, dug into our roast turkey with
stuffing, counted down to midnight with the rest of the street and burst into crazy impromptu jigs with
strangers who had become friends over the course of this crazy evening and we ushered in a truly
merry Christmas on a balmy tropical night.
This was published in the New Indian Express, Bangalore on 16 October 2014
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