Eat, Pray, Work: The City on a Sunday

The city revealed one of its many faces to me one Sunday morning. That very morning, I decided to take the bus to work. I went out with some friends the night before and was too lazy to drive back. A habit I acquired a few years ago. I promised myself to see more of the city. To enjoy the public transportation and to know, how others live their lives.

The U25 bus took me straight into its final destination at Lebuh Ampang. Stepping of the bus, I was greeted with sights of people, in a slight Sunday daze, making their ways to their destinations. The street was not as busy as it was on weekdays. Some foreign workers donned their Sunday’s best and made their way towards the streets near Mydin. This city boy, saya, stopped for a bit at the corner of the street and observed the city from a stranger’s point of view. I pretended that it was my first time in Leboh Ampang. The renovated Straits Settlement architecture with its pseudo classical charm, the Indian restaurants selling delicious hot breakfasts and the shade, provided by the LRT tracks, which at that time seem to float amidst the morning sun. I took my time and took it all in. The assault to my senses was real. The sweet morning talcum powder on passersby, the sound of people chatting on the five foot way waiting for some shops to open and the heat from the sun. I felt all these, all at once. It didn't bother me. I wanted more of it.

The street (five foot way, rather) was easier to navigate as I made my way to Bursa Malaysia. The Doric column at the corner of Jalan Tun Perak and Jalan Hang Lekiu was one of those amusing architectural wonders one will encounter in Kuala Lumpur. This Doric Column, akin to the Roman Column, only thicker, was supporting this 60-70’s building (Bangunan Lee Yan Lian). I often wonder the kind of people that would enter and exit those buildings during its glory days.

The Hang Lekiu had this calm to it. Without the college kids, it was a delightful place to have your coffee and just sit and do nothing. The tall buildings around the area and the trees lined the street, created this oasis of calmness.

I crossed the street to the now empty Menara Maybank and went to the rows ATM machines on the mezzanine floor. Have you seen a bank, a huge bank on a Sunday morning? It was quiet. It was calm. The tall lobby, lined with the handsomest marble tiles just stood there, calmly. That’s the thing I like about KL. If you look carefully, you might just see your usual spot in a different light.

I then went down the non-functioning escalator, down the steps with the trees where it always stank of urine and to the corner of with the 7-Eleven. This corner is infamous for its traffic, mainly caused by taxis trying to pick up passengers fresh from their long bus journeys (one even offered to take me to Genting Highlands). The temple, at the corner of the uphill climb, was closed. Devotees offered their prayers outside. I am going to indulge and say this. Their prayers, accompanied by sweet, ancient smelling perfumes filled the air. I smelled hope and well wishes.