Ipoh,it is a small city in the heart of Perak with a little over half a million citizens.A city everyone seems to know about.A city that is as rich in culture as it is in food and beautiful women,or so the folk tale goes.It is a city,surrounded by beautiful limestone hills which adds to the already scenic view.Ipoh is also the city where the local state government resides,which sometimes can add drama to the little city of ours.
It is a city where culture still lives and breathes,it is very much part and parcel in the lives of nearly every citizen in Ipoh.Take a stroll down old town,and without fail,you are bound to see hordes of men,women and children of every race and religion patronizing coffee shops enjoying their coffee,freshly toasted bread with kaya , egg tarts and other breakfast staples before a long day at work ,school or just to begin the day.
The coffee shops in old town all have a story to tell,each of them of course,still claiming to be the original inventor of the now-renowned Ipoh White Coffee.Generation after generation,the recipe for the perfect coffee has been preserved and passed down as if it were a priceless heirloom .Generation after generation,the coffee shops would tell their customers that they were THE original white coffee.This of course,is debatable.
Stepping into these coffee shops is always something pleasant,especially before the morning crowd. The majority of coffee shop owners,or rather known as “Taukays” would roast their coffee beans in the morning,ensuring the best of flavours would not be lost .The fresh aroma of roasted coffee would fill the shop.An aroma so wonderful and exotic,it would send a pleasant tingling sensation down your spine giving you goosebumps and exciting the senses .It was the best way to start the day and was even better than smoking marijuana according to some.
Every weekend without fail,I would follow my grandfather who is in his late 60’s to these coffee shops early in the morning.We will drive to old town in his 1960’s Mercedes benz E-class which is still in good condition.My grandfather will drive it with pride and always tells me how he had come to acquire this beautiful vintage car.He loves his car so much that he will not let anyone drive it.This car has also become,somewhat, my grandfathers calling card.Everyone knew this car.It had,I would say,become a part of the folks in old town.
Along the five foot way,everyone seems to know my grandfather and would stop to greet him.My grandfather too,would greet them back just as happily.Everyone knows my grandfather's favourite coffee shop.Despite that , the other Taukays will still invite my grandfather into their shops.My grandfather would of course decline them politely and promise to visit some other time.The coffee shop is at the corner at the end of the street.It is the one with the unchanged wooden sign board in the last 3 decades which has stood the test of time.
Walking into the shop feels like going back in time.The 3 bladed fans hanging from the ceiling,letting out that occasional squeak as it spins wobbly .The marble tops with the wooden legs with matching chairs from back in the days are still in the shop. Repeated wear and tear over the years has smoothened the wood works of the chairs and table frame.A wooden counter by the side of the shop where the Tauke sits with the rack of cigarettes behind him.There is always a welcoming feeling in the shop,it maybe the aroma of the coffee or because it of the rich history behind such a little shop.Framed black and white photos are hung on the tiled walls.Some were with the random tourist,some with actors,some politicians and even historical figures.You think that with so much attention that the shop would have evolved with time,but it hasn’t.
My grandfather always sist at the back of the shop where he can watch everyone else in the shop.My grandfather is a very modest ,patient man.He’d teach me about life and how to make the best of everything.He is more than just my grandfather,he is my friend and my mentor.He would always cross one leg over the other while reading the Chinese newspapers,occasionally taking sips at his coffee.
I can still remember the first time I had white coffee in that shop.It was a few years ago,when grandma was still alive.She had never really encouraged us to drink coffee when we were younger because it would disturb our “chi” or inner strength she would always say.She was in a good mood that day and ordered coffee for me exactly 6 years from today.From the very first very sip I took,I knew I was hooked.The flavour of the coffee was very strong and powerful yet not overpowering like other coffees.The sweetness of the coffee somehow didn’t ruin it,but complimented the flavor and aroma of the coffee.I dare call it the perfect cup of coffee.Every sip was like an explosion,a fusion of colours,stimulating every taste bud on the tongue.I looked at my grandma,and smiled. It was those kind of smiles which were different from the rest,not the smile when you were delighted nor the smile when you get a distinction in an exam,neither is it the smile you have when you are happy.It was the smile,you genuinely knew was from the heart,of true meaning and emotions.My grandma smiled back,revealing the gap in her front teeth.
I chuckled at that thought,nearly tearing. I looked at my grandfather,and I knew he felt the same.This was the very same shop my grandfather met my grandma.I took a sip of my coffee,enjoying the burst of flavours like I first did when with grandma.Tears are rolling down my cheeks as I remember my grandma.I look up and smile like 6 years ago. I see my grandma,sitting there beside my grandfather like she always did,smiling back at me,with that gap in her front teeth.
Ipoh,it isn’t merely a city.It is a place of family.It is…my home.
I woke up,mid-afternoon.It was a typical Sunday afternoon,sun high in the sky, birds chirping and the ice cream vendor at the corner of the street tending to the children from the park nearby.
I couldn’t tell if i were in reality or still in my sub-conscience,life is cruel that way.My mind constantly pulls such tricks on myself where I’d read something or see someone,but only to awake later in my bed to find no such occurance.The mind can’t differentiates between the both.
A knock on the door startles me and the oak coloured door springs open with my mum standing by the door frame.
“Do you know what time it is now?” mum says rather displeased.
“I was just having a nap mumm” I say with a scratchy voice as if I’ve slept longer than I should have. “Your friends outside waiting for you.” She continues,in a more relaxed tone.
“What friend?” I asked as mum walked away to return to tend to house chores.
I always wondered why mum never bothered hiring a maid,it’s not like we couldn’t afford it neither was the house any small for that matter.We stayed in the penthouse of Skylight Residents,which overlooked the city.It was a 4 bedroom condominium, which however,only 2 were occupied by mum and myself.The condominium was of modern design,everything was simple yet very elegant which a mixture of wood and polished metal finish.
I came out of my room,barely conscious to my surrounding and I saw my “friend” sitting by the baige coloured couch reading the daily newspaper.
“Surprised to see me?” he said
“No shit Sherlock!” I replied sarcastically.
“What are you doing here?! I am not your friend!” I continued,rather annoyed.
“Lets go for a drive,you’ll understand.” He said awfully calm.
I looked around,slightly confused by the chain of events,my mum wasn’t in it seemed.She was the one who’d get me out of things I didn’t want to do,and of all times,my mum wasn’t here when I needed her the most.I unwillingly reached for my leather jacket and headed out into the lift.The normal trip down those 30 floors seemed forever with him there in the lift.Not only was it awkward,but I didn’t have the slightest idea of his sudden reappearance in my life.
His car was parked up front in the porch.It was a metallic silver Audi R8,a car,way out of his paycheck could even afford.
“Did you rob a bank or some shit?” I said,jokingly.
“Infact,I did” He said,cooly.
“But that’s not the point.” He continues before I could interrupt.
We took a long drive along the coast, with rocky mountain face facing towards the pacific ocean,scenic as it is,the drive was not a pleasant one.Besides the music playing from the radio,the background noise from the wind and friction between the tyres and the road,there was absolute silence in the car.Not a word was uttered until we reached our destination,which was about an hour drive from where I lived.
Our destination,which I found out later,was Cove beach.It was a 5 mile stretch of un-commercialized beach front.The sand golden from the glare caught off the still blazing sun,so fine it felt like silk to the touch.The ocean was a deep turquoise blue,clear enough to see the bottom of the warm pacific water.I inhaled deeply the sea breeze,as I soaked in the sight.I’ve been to this beach more than once and it never does get old.
“In life,you are force to make decisions you thought you’d never have to make” he said out of the blue.
“The world will not stop for your grief, it will not wait.” he continued.
“Remember,that everything you do has its consequences, and whether you like it or not,you’ll have to live with it.” he said before I could interrupt
“Your past makes you who you are today, it does not define you for who you could be in future.”
“You know what the right thing to do is. Go for the woman worth marrying.” He calmly said to me sending a chill up my spine.
“Life is about taking chances and risks.” He said after a short pause.
He turned around,my back facing his.As I turn around,he was nowhere to be seen.He had disappeared.His car was no longer where it was parked.I rubbed my eyes in disbelief, and the next thing I knew I awoke in bed back home.I reached across the bed to check the time, 6am it showed. “fuck this” I muttered under my breathe and went back to sleep.
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