There are days when the city awakens my senses. All the cars, skyscrapers, highways, skyways— the concrete landscape, basically— are reminders of living, being, existing. This is where I feel most at home and honestly, I can never imagine myself living anywhere as comfortable as the city.
But let’s admit it: urban life has its ups and downs. It’s stimulating yet overwhelming, raw yet unnatural. The city has this inclination to push us forward— be on time if not ahead, live in the present, head for the future, make more and consume. While it can be exciting on most days to be a part of a lively space, all that energy from accelerated pace can also easily wear me, or anybody, out. It’s easy to feel like there aren’t enough hours in a day just to get by in the city.
To survive well (and to stay sane), I try to find the middle ground. I make sure that my apartment overlooks the woodlands. I head out for nature during vacations. And I take long walks with N in some of KL’s sprawling parks on the weekends. These green open spaces are the best dose of nature we can get while living in the city. They’re only a stone’s throw away from home, making it easy for us to enjoy some downtime sauntering.
We strolled down one that we’d never been to before during the first weekend of Eid. We came across the Kepong Metropolitan Park by chance after an early morning hike at the Forest Research Institute. It was a beautiful garden with surrounding picturesque hills and a pool of glistening lake in the middle. We caught a glimpse of the KL skyline from the park and the view was incredible, like two extremely different worlds existing side by side.
This one appealed to me deeply, in part because it was somewhat reminiscent of the leafy park I used to frequent with my grandma and sister while growing up in North London. Every corner was an explosion of peaceful greens. Pretty trees lined the park, and some of them I’d never seen before, like the golden chain and the Brazilian beauty— the Jacaranda— that seemed to flourish here in the heat.
The morning air was still cool and the sky was brilliant. N told stories of his days as a scout as we meander. Simple accounts of the things he ate, saw and learnt in the rainforest. I’d heard them a million times before yet I loved listening to them once again.
If only the weather here was more forgiving, I bet more city folks would’ve set down their picnic baskets and enjoy this plot of land. We were almost alone in the abundant nature, accompanied occasionally by a handful of elderly couples taking a ritual stroll. It’d be nice if we were to grow old like them and walk with pleasure like the way they do, we thought. Just sauntering on the solitary trails and talking about our days seem like a rewarding plan.
