Walking Home

Those two carefree months of bumhood gone and here I am again essentially alone in a new place. Busy with work, I spend the remaining hours juggling a long distance relationship, playing catch up with friends, trying to fit in to new cliques and exploring KL. It’s an okay life, if a little lonely but now my days are structured and and there is that challenge to fill the hours with moments of peace and reflections.

If anything, it is the 30-45 minute walk going home that has turned into my mulling over time. I pass through the Suria KLCC mall at the base of the Petronas Towers, sometimes looking around the stores, and then before hurrying home, I pass by Cold Storage for a piece or two of baked goods for breakfast. I marvel at the diverse cultures of this nation – Malay, Chinese, Indian. How these people seem to have learned the balance of respect, tolerance and pride as individual races and as a singular nation. Somewhere there must be a secret to this country’s success at bringing about peace and harmony to its people. Something that might benefit my country, torn with petty differences and discrimination.

The nights are alternatively rainy or humid. Seven PM on a clear day and the sun is still up and about. I walk through the big park fronting the Petronas, a favorite spot for locals and tourists. Kids, families, lovers and people mill around enjoying the spectacle of water sprays from the huge circular fountains. It reminds me of Korea, of the park we used to go to during Spring. How green, open and safe places such as these are havens for city dwellers, a place to sit back, to smile at things, to watch people, to talk about life or sometimes, to take a five minute rest from the torture caused by vanity and high-heeled sandals.

And finally I reach the mosque, hear the echoes of it’s people’s prayers, voices raised loud enough to be heard even from outside. And I ask for some peace and a little patience and restraint for myself and my need to be gone again. I take another turn and I am at the doorstep of my temporary home, the hotel-apartelle aptly named The Zon.