There was once a boy who traveled so far until he became a man. By the time he stopped, he could barely remember his home, why he had left, or if there was anyone waiting for him. His boyhood was a dream, painted with fleeting glimpses of different people in different places. Through all those …
The traveller
“Where are you going?” I asked the man with the weight of the world on his shoulders. He didn’t stop, but he looked back and replied, “And why are you standing still?”
Imagined landscapes
Kampung Tanjung, Kuala Terengganu The last time I was here, the house was shrouded in darkness. I could barely see the tail light of a motorcycle, streaking to a halt between the stilts. The house stood alone on an empty plot of land, or rather the land around the house had been cleared. I promised …
A land without memory
A forest has no history. It remembers no beginning, follows no moral, worships no God. Trees fall and sprout anew, rivers flood and dry out, animals kill and then they themselves die, all part of a perpetual state of unguided renewal. Churning itself anew for more than 130 million years, Taman Negara is a 4,343 …
An afternoon in Malacca
At a recent live storytelling event, I shared a story about three boys I met on Jalan Ampang, and how that encounter changed my life. I won’t repeat the story here but it ended with a salam and the boys walking away. But wait, what does Ampang have to do with Malacca? I had spent …
Sustenance
Strive not to live with nature, but to be embrace our place within it. A recent assignment brought me to Kampung Pinggan Jaya, Kuching to look at the community ran gula apong industry. For Pak Mahli, work is a daily ritual of slipping into his yellow gum boots and strapping a can of burning mosquito …
Unfamiliar faces in town
The Indian-Muslim masters of cendol A bowl of cendol pulut is a must. Rojak is optional. Time to head home and take a nap, I asked him for the total in Malay. He replies in Tamil. I start fishing for coins from my wallet. Haven't see you in awhile. How's your mother? he asks. She's …
Unfamiliar faces at the beach
Brilliant colours of blue, light grey, pastel pink, golden yellow smeared across the sky, shifting as quickly as the wind hurries the clouds. One frame morphing into another, no two moments are alike. I share the birthing morning with coconut trees, boulders and sand, moist from last night's high tide. Unfamiliar, nameless faces cross my …
Portraits of a Monsoon: Making the print, part 2
Continued from Part 1 Scanning There were several problems here. All I had was a flatbed scanner (Canon 9900F) which came with both 35mm and medium format film holders. None of them worked as designed. After much frustration and tests, I learned that I had to place the film flat on the glass to get …
Continue reading "Portraits of a Monsoon: Making the print, part 2"
Mahen Bala 