Pah-wee-lyon

Bersih happened a week ago and it’s still swimming in my head, its energy and images buzzing between the electrodes in my brain. When I have time, I shall attempt to write a 1000 word article to make sense of it. Until then, less in-depth updates:

I went to Bukit Bintang today. Pavilion, Fahrenheit 88, Lot 10, y’know? That area lah.

I bought work shoes from a reputable brand. Cost me an arm and a leg but hopefully this pair lasts longer than my previous two (both fell apart before a year of use).

I’ve always suspected it, but today I’m sure: I just don’t like that part of KL. It’s over-crowded, the roads are always jammed, its buildings are far too close to one another and some spots there are so seedy you gape in amazement: stores selling four-figure designer shoes next to houses which look barely better than a squatter’s hut.

I can’t help but think, one day, when the population of the earth is 12 billion, we shall all live like this: heaving and thronging together, yet oblivious to one another, pushing, shoving, shouting, creating and tolerating massive air, ground and sound pollution around us as we go hell bent on consuming more goods we don’t need. We’ll rub shoulders with pimps, imitation goods sellers, sales people, street performers blowing bubles next to the homeless and of course, plane loads of tourists. There’ll be no where to go to find any refuge or peace.

It’s tiring, that area. And from now on, I don’t think I’ll ever go to Pavilion to shop again. To meet up friends, watch a movie or eat, yes, but not to shop. The sales people there are so used to serving oil tycoons’ wives and the nouveau riche of the far east that you’re basically denigrated to Malaysian-who-won’t-spend-much, unworthy of their attention, unless of course you’re some Datin with the bling to prove it. Half the store people gave me looks like I was completely wasting their time the moment I walked through their doors.

And everyone there seems to have walked out of a fashion magazine. Do these people spend half their time in the gym and the other half buying trendy new clothes? It makes me extremely self conscious even when I’m in khakis and a long-sleeved shirt. I’m not saying come in pajamas, but does everyone have to try so darn hard?

Add in the crowds and overpriced everything (toilets, parking, food, goods) and I really wonder: where’s the pleasure in shopping here?

On a different note: I’ve also written at WAMM about Alfian Sa’at’s Parah, a play staged by the Instant Cafe Theatre Company which I had the immense pleasure of catching 2 weeks ago. Read it here.

Have a great week ahead everyone, and God bless!