She would have been 74 today

Mak would have been 74 today.

But she did not make it to today; she was invited over to meet with the Creator six months earlier. Apparently according to my auntie Maksu, Mak passed away at the same age as (my) Nenek. I didn't know that; I thought Nenek passed away in her 80s. Then again may be not. She may looked 80s to my eyes, I guess it was only my perception, and hence I personally thought she would only go in her 80s.

I should have known better.

in 2012, she celebrated her birthday alone in Taiping - for some reason she decided that she wants to stay in Taiping in the early part of the year. May be in contemplation, I don't know. Most likely we would wish her over the phone, or text.

But I remember the birthday celebration a year earlier in 2011 for her 72nd birthday. These are pictures and stories that have never been told or published before, and I thought it is about time I share them with all here in the blog.

For the record.

Mak is about to realize that many of her cucus are waiting for
her arrival. She thought she was about to have dinner alone with Ani
and her family.

For the record, I did not arrange for this celebration. I believe it was my sister Ksham's arrangement and I just went along with it. Mak for sure did not know anything about it; it was a surprise for her. KSham and family, and my family and I were the first to arrive and Mak arrived later on at 8.38 pm with Ani.

It was reasonably dark in the restaurant with only ambient lighting, that she did not really notice us until  much later.

We were all there to celebrate her birthday with her.

Smiles were written all over her face when she found out.

Not sure what she was admiring - could be the lamps

Foods are served

Dinner comes with birthday cake

Mak and her cucu and children get a birthday song
sung by a singer of the restaurant band. I think she is amused
more than anything else.

With a little help from Danial

Mak and her three children on Jan 6, 2011 at Bora Ombak Ampang
She looks very healthy at this stage. Love her smile.

With everybody, except Akmal

Alfatihah untuk Mak.

Kota Toea aka Oud Batavia

In my years of (business) traveling, I was never able to be a tourist.

Most of the time it is work, and work and never-ending work. Early in the morning, we would travel to the client's office, and coupled with dinner appointments, most of the time, by the time I reach the hotel, it is bed time, so I would hit the sack, and the day would end there and then.

It begins all over again early the next morning.

And by Friday night (or late Friday afternoon), I would be queueing at the check-in counter, getting ready to go home.

It does not matter if the meeting is in Bangkok, or Jakarta, Hanoi or Saigon - and just to make it appear a bit more glamourous, I would add Rayong (Thailand), Bataan (the Philippines), Medan, Palembang, Lhokseumawe (Aceh), Balikpapan, Balongan/Cirebon or Dumai for that matter to the list of places I would frequent too. 

They are all the same to me.

Or at least they would appear that way since I would not have seen their cities or town as tourist,  or inhabitant. Neither as I would only be passing through, and I would certainly not able to get to know them. To be honest, I was not really interested too to get to know the towns too well. I was only doing my job. We tried to maximise our working hours while we are on duty, and not use it for personal gratifications.

This is what you do when you love your job and the company you were working for. There was no question that we would do anything for the company, or at least in hindsight, that is what I would like to think.

So in 2011, I was able to get half day off due cancelled meeting, and I decided to reward myself and visited Kota Toea Betawi. I had only seen this part of Jakarta over the years from the cab's windows, but never had the opportunity to visit them.

And these are what I saw that day in September 2011.

Jakarta as reflected in the heavily polluted stream.
Love the picture nonetheless

kota Toea and surrounding from the window of Jakarta History Museum.
If I am not mistaken,this is Fatahillah Square

Decaying Kota Toea. It is in need of restoration for sure

Still intact, complete with blooming Kemboja.

One of the alleyway at Kota Toea

Must be an old ""

This used to the the Batavia City Hall,
now Jakarta History Museum

And no, this was not the job of the WWII Atomic Bomb,
this is part of Kota Toea. It adds character. I am pretty sure
if this was Malaysia, it would have been torn many times over,
and a non-descript building would come up in its place!

Bicycle for hire in front of Jakarta History Museum

I guess these are for the ladies

How much is it? Cheap enough for you
to hire one and enjoy Kota Toea

Open windows outside a cafe in Kota Toea.

Another dilapidated old building
in the old section of what once was Jewel of the Asia.

Beautiful building, only to be marred by the tangled cables 

Another alleyway at Kota Toea

View from the room. This is
taken from the History Museum

Green window panes against the white wall
of Jakarta History Museum

The Garden inside of Jakarta History Museum

A budding  Yuna in the making

Inside Stasiun Kota

EPILOGUE

If you wish to use the pictures, please ask my permission first. Thanks.

Condolence to Aya

A dear friend of mine lost her mom last night.

I had met her mom only once; and that too during a Raya visit to their home in Assam Kumbang Taiping. I thought she was a very soft-spoken and friendly lady, not unlike her daughter(s), I guess.

While I can still visualize her on that Raya day, inviting us to eat at the table and chit-chatting with us, I don't remember any specific. Years must have passed since that visit and typically I would have forgotten about it. But for some reasons, she is someone I would remember - not necessarily from that Raya visit, but more through her daughter actually.

From my interaction with her daughter, whenever the subjects of parents would appear in our conversations, and whenever I would relate the story of my own father, she would be able to tell me on how my father would walk from Taiping train station to our house on the night before he passed away. That story is an urban legend for our family; but we had never thought that someone outside the family would also know.

And especially her.

And how would she know (since she herself was away in the US when it happened)?

Her mom, of course.

Her mom obviously had related the story to her for her to remember that. I was surprised to be honest; but it was a pleasant surprised. Pleasant since her mom knew the story too.

I am sure she has many other good traits; perhaps not unlike our moms and other moms in the world. And knowing how she turned out, I am sure her mom would have done a great job with great.

When I invited her to visit a dear teacher of ours who was battling cancer a month ago, she responded by saying that she only has weekend to go visiting, and that all her time after office hours during the weekdays were occupied with visiting her mom daily.

I honestly did not realize the severity of her mom's conditions then, but she still volunteered to visit Cikgu Wari during weekend. The going back and forth between work, home and hospital (on a daily basis, and during peak hours of KL traffic), I would say, reflected her commitment and love for her mom. She did all that without fail, so I am told by another friend, and I guess she was there until the very end last night.

I am not sure I would have her strength do it for months, to be honest.

Good on you, Aya. I am sure your mom is lucky to have you as a daughter, then again, I don't think she was simply lucky. She had done a good job bringing you up too.

Moga Allah mencucuri rahmatNya keatas ruh ibunda tersayang dan dimasukkan kedalam golongan orang-orang yang beramal solleh.

Alfatihah.

The Friday Sermon

To be honest, I didn't follow thoroughly the Friday sermon this afternoon. This time the khatib was talking about the roles of the Islamic scholars, and that their seemingly esteemed position in the society  is fast spiraling down in society's eyes. 

I have no excuse actually for not following the sermon. It was after all a multimedia sermon, so it was complete with power point presentation of the sermon, supposedly it was easy to follow. 

Typically.

But I was, this time around, seated closer to the back of the main hall, so I had a tough time reading the points shown on the projector. May be I need new glasses! Honestly I think very highly of a multimedia sermon - I think all mosques should be doing it every time, all the time and at Masjid Saidina Osman, I seldom, if ever, fall asleep, never mind the topics.

Practically the first point of the sermon talked about how at this moment, the society at large is belittling the ulamaks, and that set me thinking hard as to the reasons why, and hence I was drowned in my self-thought (and self-indulgence), rather than listening intently to the sermon itself.

I remember the 80s when I was a student at Monash. I was (reasonably) active as a member of MUIS (Monash Uni Islamic Society) and every year we would invite some prominent personality or organization from Malaysia during the term break.

Religious Centre, Monash University.
A hang-out area for us students in those days,
other than the library and the student union of course!

And during one year we had invited someone from al-Arqam - I have forgotten the name of ustaz and all the sermons he had given to us then, except for one conversation we had with him during one lull period. 

He was lamenting about the situation in Malaysia, about how the society mistreated the scholarly pursuit of the religion. "Ustaz," he was many times asked, "anak saya SPM dapat grade 3. Nak masuk universiti tak boleh. Boleh ustaz ngajar dia supaya dia dapat jadi ustaz?"

"Kurang-kurang jadi orang berguna."

I am sure the youth of today would not have any idea of third grade in SPM.

Or in another situation, the parents would be thinking if his sons aren't good enough to be engineers or lawyers, he would be grateful if they would be religious teachers!

"Allah, dah tak pass universiti baru nak belajar jadi ustaz. So," according to this good ustaz, "how can Islam progress as a society if the religious teachers are those of third graders and drop-outs?"

An ustaz who would know well how to read the quran, but knew little else outside their trade.

I am not trying to belittle the ulamaks, the scholars or the religious teachers. They are doing their parts in this worldly world; the parts that I am lacking as a person, so don't misconstrue with this piece of article. I am only reminiscing the conversation we had in the mid-80s, and thought it is one of the reasons of the predicament that we are facing today.

The good ustaz, then to me, had a very good point. We need straight As students to take up religious studies, but at the same time not limiting to purely religious knowledge only. We need engineers, economist and bankers to be student of religion.  We need professionals in the scholarly pursuit of Islam. Islam is a way of life, hence we need religious scholars who know economics, engineering, medicine, philosophy, finance and other so-called worldly pursuit. We owe it to ourselves to do that, and not only admit weak students into our religious institutions, someone who eventually could not handle a scholarly debate with the society at large.

And the same goes with our tertiary institutions too. We need high quality students to take up teaching posts at our university. We need the best of our students to move on to PhD level and teach the next generation of engineers, doctors and professionals. Only then our universities can prosper, and move to the next level - and we would too as a country.

What say you?

Belasungkawa: Ahmad Jais (1936-2011)

I once asked Ahmad Jais, "From the hundreds of songs that you have recorded, which one is very close to your heart?"

Suddenly he lowered his gaze, and paused. He didn't answer me immediately, unlike the question before. There was silence in the air - a queasy silence. In fact the pause was an extended one, such that I felt uncomfortable about it. May I had asked a wrong question. He had been so chatty up to this point.

He had recorded over a 100 songs in 15 albums. Most of his songs are a hit, and if you were to buy his EP in the 70s, you would not regret it. All four songs for each release are halwa telinga, every time, all the time.

Then he looked up at me  - I was waiting with bated breath, and he said, "It would have to be Sejak Kita Berpisah."

I knew most of his songs as I grew up with many of them, and I am talking about the late 60s and the early 70s, even though I was practically a child then. But I didn't know this song. I was expecting him to say Diambang Sore and the likes. I looked at him with a blank face and suddenly it occurred to me and I blurted out, "Isn't that the Kartina Dahari's song?"

Yes, Sejak Kita Berpisah is a favourite keroncong song of mine, and I thought it was Kartina's and no one else's.

He looked at me in bewilderment. "No, no, it is a copyright control song," he explained. "It means the composer is unknown."

I didn't have the heart to ask him why he picked that one up, over the hundreds of other songs. But my imagination were running wild with speculation, and I left it at that.

Apparently he recorded the song in 1966, while Kartina Dahari recorded the keroncong version in 1969.

We went on to talk about how much royalty he picked up during his heyday. "It was a miserable two cents per song!" he exclaimed. How ciput it can be, and I guess I can imagine (real) life as a singer, glossing over the glamourous pictures as shown on telly and magazines.

Yes, and I thought too that I could be multi-millionaire by running my own company! ;))

That Dato Ahmad Jais for you, ever willing to share his stories to this busy body. We were chatting over at the changing room for artist at Dewan Perdana FELDA in 2006. I managed to get into that room by virtue of Arif performing on the same stage with him.

I told him of the many EPs in my collection. Unfortunately I didn't bring it with me for him to sign. I think it was Mak who bought many of his EPs, so we would listen to them whenever she played it. Most of his song are really lovely. Until today, I can relate to them. Nak Dara Rindu - beautiful, Gelisah - well, dark, very dark. I love Budi Setahun Segunung Intan, a duet with Kartina Dahari too.

Moga Allah mencucuri rahmat keatas ruhnya. Amin and Alfatihah.

Dato Ahmad Jais posing with Datin Orchid Abdullah
at the rehearsal at Dewan Perdana Felda in 2006 for
the retirement party of the FELDA DG.
Alfatihah to both Dato and Datin.

Two generations apart, and two-size apart! The kids with the master singer
and composer. He had written many songs. Once on stage, while practicing
with the ghazal band, he wasn't pleased with the key chosen, so he called
for Arif, "Tukang piano, tolong bagi A." So Arif rushed to the piano
and hit the key for him. Tukang piano - sounds so much
like a PRamlee's movie!

The kids outside Dewan perdana at the end of the party with Dato seen
on the right in his white pants and shoes!

National Anthem - The Australian Experience

There has been a lot of debate and discussion of late on the Malayan/Malaysian history.

Apparently a lot of agony and anguish - made-up or real, were generated during such debates, depending on which side you are on. I would not want to add on to the debate, but just would like to give the perspective of another nation, which we share some similarity and history.

When I was a kid, I was told by Mak that our national anthem was taken from the Perak anthem. Obviously we were proud of that fact and honoured, but without internet and youtube, there was no way we would know then that even the Perak anthem was taken from Terang Bulan which was taken from song from Seychelles. Apparently it happened when Sultan Abdullah of Perak was exiled by the British and he was taken by the song.

Similarly, there have been many debates on our Jalur Gemilang, previously and lately. I remember the reading a news report that when our PM (TDM) first went to the US (in the 80s?) -  during his early days as the PM, he was indeed asked as to why the Malaysian flag looked very much like their Star and Stripes. Honestly, I don't remember his answer anymore, so it can't be that memorable.

Australia went through similar predicament much earlier than us; not on the flag, but their national anthem.

The Australia's national anthem booth in 2005 in Canberra

I remember the debate in the 80s if Advance Australia Fair should be their national anthem. Obviously many thought that a more popular tune that seems to represent (fair dinkum) Australia would be Waltzing Matilda.

Even then, and especially now, I would be able to humm Waltzing Matilda and have no clue about the melody of Advance Australia Fair. Waltzing Matilda would be more Australian to a foreigner like me, and would be get my vote along with Down Under (Men at Work)!

Apparently the original Advance Australia Fair was written Peter McCormick, a Scottish-born song writer and was first performed in 1878. It was originally sung as a patriotic song and not as a national anthem.

Up to 1974, God saves the Queen was Australia's national anthem. in 1973, the Whitlam government decided that Australia needed a new national anthem to represent Australia with distinction, and started a competition. On the recommendation of the Council for the Arts, none of the new entries were felt worthy enough, so the contest ended with the suggestions for Advance Australia Fair, Waltzing Matilda and Song of Australia. 

A nationwide opinion survey was done in 1974 and Advance Australian Fair came on top.

In 1976, the Fraser government reinstated God save the Queen as the national anthem.

In the 1977 referendum on various issues.Advance Australia Fair received 43.29% of the vote, defeating the three alternatives: Waltzing Matilda (28.28%), Song of Australia (9.65%), and the existing national anthem God Save the Queen (18.78%).

Advance Australia Fair, with modified lyrics from the original, was adopted as the Australian national anthem on 19 April 1984 by a proclamation by the Governor-General Sir Ninian Stephen,^[8] on a recommendation by the Labor government of Bob Hawke. [Wiki]

But I still love Waltzing Matilda. It is as Australian as the kangaroo and billabong!

Can we do it in the Australian way? A lot of debate and discussion were held in Australia in the 70s and 80s, and practically everybody has an opinion on this, and obviously no one agrees with everyone else, especially the politicians.

But no one accused everyone else as traitor for wanting to change the national anthem. No one demanded that ISA be used on their opponents. As far as I remember it in the 80s, it was a proper and  educated debate, though I am reasonably sure that a lot of emotions were generated during these debates.

There were many Australian royalist (if I may term them as that) who would want to keep God Save the Queen as the anthem, and I am sure as many Australian who would want to have the Australian identity in their national anthem.

Can we have a debate on what's constitute Malaysia's national anthem and national flag please? If Negaraku and Jalur Gemilang are the proper anthem and flag, then so be it, even though it may be derived from a song in Seychelles and the American flag respectively. If we want to find one that could represent Malaysia with distinction, we could do a nationwide survey or referendum and even hold competition if we could come up with better anthem or flag.


Is it too much to ask of us?

EPILOGUE

Such is the environment in Malaysia that I am a bit unsure if I should even be bothered to post this entry. Would I be labeled a traitor for even mentioning it, or would someone call me to be incarcerated into ISA, nevermind that Najib is thinking of abolishing it. I am not saying one way or another, but I am asking all of us Malaysians to look at how our Australian counterparts handled their diversities in opinions and came out unscathed, if not stronger, as a country.


There was another movement in Australia even in the 80s. The movement calls for Australia to become a republic instead of having the Queen as the constitutional monarch. Please read about it here. Again, no one calls for the citizenship of these republicans to be revoked!

Squeaky wheel gets the oil

By nature, I am a quiet guy.

Tried very much to stay off the limelight, never one to hog them.

I normally would pay my bills without batting my eyelids. At times, I would even pretend that I was expecting the sum of the bill, even though upon reflection (later), I knew I had been conned, or at the very least, cheated. So I tried very much to protect myself, noting and making mental calculation before going to the cashier to pay my bill.

I have a car - 3 year old car last Sept 11. 2011. The warranty expires on that day, eventhough my mileage is only 74,000 km (as opposed to 100,000 km, as it is on the basis of whichever one is earlier).

I sent my car for its 70,000 km service in July 2011, when I was told that the engine oil was leaking from 3 places - the valve cover, the oil pump and another location which I have forgotten. I was also told that since this is considered normal wear and tear, it is not included in the warranty of the car. Nothing major I guess, but apparently it was going to cost me over RM1,200.00 for this repair work, in a any case.

I tried to argue that it should be considered under the warranty programme, but the service advisor was adamant that it is not.

Not wanting to make a scene, I told them not to bother and would decide later what to do with it.

I had thought that once the warranty is over (in two month's time), I would send the car to my favourite mechanic (and not to the official make workshop). I was sure it would be cheaper.

And I had not bother getting it done, until I started smelling like something burning coming from the car.

By then, it is urgent to get it done.

So I decided to call the official workshop to get the details, so that I could get my favourite workshop to work on it. By then, the 3-warranty was definitely over.

Talking to the service advisor, I decided to make a fuss over the phone.

1. Being the most expensive car I had  bought in my entire life, I told him I was surprised that such model and make would have problems such as oil leaking, while my other cheaper cars would trouble free (at least no leaking). My RM26,000 Saga which I bought in 1989 did not have the oil leaking within 3 years, and it was multiple-fold cheaper than my present car.

2. The car, while it is 3 year old by Sept, has very low mileage (i.e. only 74,000 km in 3 years)

3. The car is fully maintained by the car maker itself.

4. The problem was found to exist while the car is under warranty (i.e. in July 2011), even though I decided after the warranty to send it to the official workshop.

So when I brought the car in a week's later at the maker's workshop, I was told that the repair work would now be considered under the warranty program, and hence I would not have to pay for it. I was surprised, but thankful.

It pays to make noises or create a scene, so that they would not take us for granted. On what basis did he tell me earlier that it was not under warranty and two months later, changed his tune, I am not sure.

Personally I would prefer if the conditions of a car's under warranty are clearly spelt, so that there is no misunderstanding. We have to protect our right as consumer.

In another incident, after Friday prayer last week, I decided to buy some dokong. Thinking I could get 3 kg for RM10.00, I was taken aback when I was told that the price is RM5 per kg. "What? I thought it should be 3 kg for RM10.00," I told the seller.

Without batting an eyelid, she reduced the price to RM4 per kg, so I bought a kg just to satisfy my craving for dokong while walking to the mosque earlier.

I didn't try to bargain, I was only telling her as a matter of fact.

Conclusion? 

Squeaky wheel gets the oil!

It does not pay to stay quiet, and not make a fuss in doing business in Malaysia. They would try to get out from their responsibility if they could help it. They are hoping that all Malaysian consumers are indifferent to their rights.

Raya '11 - Romancing the Ekspres Rakyat

I am not sure about you, but train travel spells romance for me.

Don't get me wrong; I am not talking about the Orient Express, nor was I talking about love and meeting anyone of the opposite sex on a train, though at one time or so in my life, I was hoping that Sheena Easton would be singing the Morning Train for me! ;-) Mind you, the maharajah taking the train in (Colonial) India would not come into the picture either.

Our trains are less spectacular than that in Europe - and perhaps India, but they are ours anyway.

And unlike driving, or taking the bus, train ride is not just a mode of transportation. It is a way of life of the days gone by. Way back to the year when James Watt designed the steam engine that would allow rail travel in Britain.

No, this is not the steam engine James Watt built
though it surely looks like one, hahaha. This is
a diesel engine still plying the peninsular for KTM. Honestly it should be
in the museum already, but amazingly it is still doing the job

Long before roads were available for travel in Malaya, we have had the Taiping-Port Weld track. That was way back in 1885 - that's more than a century later. And the schoolchildren in remote part of Kelantan would take the train to go to school even today, and to make it more interesting, this was way before train/LRT became a way of life for people in the Klang Valley.

Typicaly, train ride would cross the country side and the view can be spectacular, especially if the train needs to climb a mountain (as in Bukit Berapit in Taiping) as there would be tunnels and it would ply the route on the edge of cliff, and ravine and you would be clinging onto your dear life.

In Europe, the view of a train crossing the arch bridge can be majestic. It is beautiful.

Our bridges are not as spectacular unfortunately. They are typically made of steel instead, but still it can be good view if you can catch them crossing the Perak River.

This is of course not Sg Perak, It is one of the smaller river in the
Kinta Basin. I believe we crossed over the Perak River at dusk.

My only dream now is to ply the Vancouver-Calgary trip and cross the Rockies in a train. I was told the Chicago-Seattle train ride is equally spectacular.

One can buy a car; heck you can even buy a plane, but I have never heard anyone buying a train for one's private use.

So it was on this premise that I decided to take the train back home for Hari Raya. I thought I should try to relive the 70s again with our yearly train ride to and from Taiping. It was the romance of the 70s that lured me to this trip, and out of the blue, took a long and extended office break.

With the help of my new BlackBerry, of course!

This is the driver of the Ekspres Rakyat, South bound to
Singapore, departing on time at 1430 hours from KL

In some ways it was just like old time. The train was one hour late - as usual. KTM simply could never get this right, after all these years. To be honest, their Indonesian counterpart, despite the lack of modern facilities, run their train with clock-work precision.

Or at least for the 10 times or so train-rides I have taken to and from Jakarta to the various parts of Java.

M Nasir wrote of the same thing way back in the early 80s; that the Ekspres Rakyat was already late.

Sorry, I digress.

It was an hour late for my train; I knew I would not be able to enjoy the tunnel at Bukit Berapit.

I am not sure where this is and what this is, but somewhere in Perak,
I guess. Hahaha.

Beyond that, of course trains are all air-conditioned now, and one need not have to fight for one's seat no more. There is no more fans dangling from the ceiling providing much needed respite for the weary passengers. There was not any need for that. I miss those coaches.

I miss the feel of wind in your hair as one sneak a peek over the open windows, and being able to see the coaches through the open windows as the train snakes across the countryside. It is a long and winding track down the length of the Malay peninsular. I long to see the food vendors on the track converging on our coach and melodiously announcing their food for sale. "Nasik lemak, mee goreng, karipap" would be a typical sales pitch and it was pleasing to the ears of hungry passengers.

There was no need for the buffet coaches and the meals were freshly cooked and they were all home made.

They have killed romance out of rail travel. It was a bit sterile for my liking.

But I guess life moves on and waited for no one. Especially sentimental guys like me. This is one guy trapped in time, and he was hoping that everything else would too.

Still, despite the shortcomings, I thought it was a relaxing journey. I need not worry about the traffic, I need not worry about Kancils hogging the right lane, driven like they are the Ferraris.

The views from the enclosed windows are not views that I have seen umpteenth of times while driving up and down the highway. May be I did not get to enjoy them that much, while I was concentrating on the wheels, but I have seen them all. While I would not say it was getting boring, but it could be getting stale. The train, on the other hands, tends to snake its way through the backyard of the country, so you get to see views seldom seen. You see people chatting, people waving to us on the train, sometimes as if they had only seen the train for the first time in their lives - even as their backyards faced the railway tracks.

With the completion of the North South highway in the late 80s, one could now travel the length of the country - from Thailand to Singapore, without seeing anything! They only had the destination in mind, so they missed out on the adventure along the way. 

Cooking up a storm, but I know I am safe in the train. It may rain cats and dogs,
but I need not worry about them. Alhamdulillah.

Now, the trains would let you see everything and laid bare to you everything this country has to offer. You would see the peninsular the way it is supposed to be seen. 

To be precise, the way it is. There was no pretension. There was no prop up for the tourists. It is an honest view of the way we were, and the way we are.

The blues, the reds and the greens going against the dark grey clouds

I remember the old days when the train would stop at practically all stations. Behrang, Malim Nawar, Tapah Road, Kota Baharu (in Perak, mind you), Chemor, Enggor, and Kalumpang are some of the stations that had become extinct in the face of modernization of the train and the advent of the express train.  Some are so small that you would not call them a train station - a 'halt' would be more appropriate. 

And yet the train stops by to pick up, at times, a singular passenger!

All onboard and ready to depart

As kids then with no sense of time, we would be happy to stop at any station. It was an eye opener for us, seeing things and lives beyond our hometown. 

To cherish on what we have, and to be in awe of what we don't.

A relaxing time for the KTM staff on the other side of the track. This is Batu
Gajah (new) station.

The train stopped by at Batu Gajah station, but it is a nondescript steel structure with no soul. I saw the old Batu Gajah station as it pulled away from the new station - it was abandoned and soon it would be in ruins. My heart sank; Batu Gajah is always special for me. It is also an old town, not unlike Taiping, and it is a town we grew up in.

I love this country side view, not unlike of Taiping. Big raintrees and green
padangs would dot the town. I'd like to believe that this is Batu Gajah. May be.
Unfortunately the pix was cut in the middle by the pole

As we started late from KL - late arrival of train from South, we were informed that breaking of fast would be at 1927 hours in the vicinity of Sg Siput. Originally the train is supposed to arrive in Taiping right at breaking of fast time, so luckily I had brought a bottle of mineral water and Kitkat, just in case and it turned out to be my saviour.

Kuala Kangsar station at dusk. I had many stares for having my
big camera and taking pictures of all and sundry. "Abang, abang ambik
gambar apa?" a teenager once asked of me. "Gambar nostalgia, dik," I replied,
truthfully. "Abang is on a nostalgic trip."

We arrived in Kuala Kangsar station at 1945 hours - I was hoping to see the old KK station, but just like Taiping counterpart, it is now a construction site. As day had turned into night, I could not recognize the KK town and its surrounding. The train supposedly traveled near my grandfather's house in Talang, but I have no clue when it did that during the trip.

So as the darkness of the night started to engulf the peninsular, we missed out on the Bukit Berapit tunnels. I tried to, but could not make head or tail of the near pitch black of the night and tunnels. 

I had lost the ultimate experience of the peninsular rail travel. You would know that the train would be approaching a tunnel as they would have switched on the yellowish menthol bulb dangling from the ceiling and soon after the day would turn pitch black save for the dim yellow light.

It was an exhilarating feeling and it is stuff romance is made of.

I arrived in Taiping at 2030 hours and had my proper meal of mee rebus at the train station. No Aya, the mee rebus here was mediocre at best. Good enough to fill up my empty stomach, but not good enough for second helping on another occasion.

Then only it occurred to me that this is no longer the 70s. Time had stood still for me, but time waited for no one.

With a heavy sigh, I made my way out, and started walking towards Sri Kota.

Taiping at last. I decided to have my meal first before proceeding home and
by that time (about 2115 hour),  there was no more cab left. I thought, "Am
I going to do what bapak did 27 years ago (12 Aug 1984) and walk home?"
Bapak did it because he thought the cab fare, at RM2.50, was a ripped off.
As I was walking towards SriKota, near the TNB station, I saw a cab
and paid him RM8 to take me home.