The (touristy) part of Chinatown was remarkably and, shall we say, uncomfortably quiet during the early days of Circuit Breaker.
I tell you, I had never seen the place so silent and so desolate before.
But Kreta Ayer, or Chinatown, is not a new area with new buildings, and in her Quiet and Silence there seemed to be a story that she wished to tell.
I don't know what that story is.
I don't know if I even want to know what that story is.
But I'm someone who sometimes gets nutty about stuff and stories, and so in Phase One when I happened to be (again) in the area because of an errand, I decided to make a circuit of the place one more time.
It's interesting what space and architecture and buildings (devoid of people) can tell you.
It's not a message you can hear loud and clear.
It's not a message that is communicated through voices or silhouettes or visual impressions.
But it's a message that will hit your senses when you least expect it.
And if you stop, open your heart and your mind, and just let the message seep through, you'll get a glimpse of it anyway.
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Don't I sound like I'm talking in circles?
Yep, I am.
And cryptic they shall stay- because right now there are no absolute answers and I am not the sort to plonk down intuitive feels as if they were fact IF there're isn't anyone or anything to corroborate the intuition.
Maybe some messages are meant to be hinted at and nothing more.
Shall we say then that I kept thinking of the Old Majestic Theatre and the hotel next to it whilst my feet were traipsing through Pagoda Street, Trengganu Street and Smith Street?
But, were there surprises?
Yes, and no.
I had expected the place to be quiet (Phase One after all), and quiet she was, with only a few of us locals wandering to and fro as we meandered our way through the lanes to our destination.
No one entered the shops to take a look at the merchandise.
No one stopped outside a restaurant to look at the menu.
No one stopped for a beer.
It made this part of Chinatown seem to have an aura of shimmering energy around it which is really hard to define and even harder to explain.
One thing though- Information clouds perspective, but put the information away in a drawer, let the place speak to you, and who knows, a new perspective may just beckon you.
It isn't frightening.
Pensive, maybe- like a story that has for ages ached to be told and yet has never had had the chance to.
Sago Lane, for instance, had always, in fiction and non-fiction, been described as a grim, mournful lane of death houses and coffins and dying funeral paraphernalia.
But the sun broke through the clouds when I did a 360 on the Lane and then and only then did I realize just how colorful and beautifully painted the buildings now were.
The mournful lane where once people checked themselves in to live out their last days and take their final breaths was no more.
In this season of COVID-19 and CORONA, that was a hopeful sight.
A very hopeful sight, indeed.