One Lazy Sunday Afternoon.

Lazy Sunday Afternoons.

*Batik Painting by Chuah Thean Teng

 

Not to be mistaken for lazy Saturday afternoons or any lazy afternoon, the lazy Sunday afternoon is special if not spiritual in very many little ways. 

 

Apart from having to be on Sunday, the lazy part is largely accessed via feelings, emotions and experience. Lazy is in the sense of being aware but disenchanted. It is a moment where time stands still or at least drags on with a long languid languor of purposelessness. Usually imbued with heat and humidity - hence afternoon, one is caught in a situation one is inextricably part of, even though there’s really nothing happening. The situation as it happens, happens by unfolding unplanned.  A situation within a situation, if you get my drift. 

 

Visualise a situation in real life, in a café by the street, at the seaside, poolside, or simply gazing at nature, where you get to be the observer observing yourself in it. 

It is a scene where everything happens as it should, nothing is amiss. Like a scene in a movie setting waiting for something to happen except nothing happens… not a word is said.

Here is where Sunday makes its distinction, being the sabbath, a holiday largely observed, most people are not bustling about at work or in traffic. Some are cooling off in an after-lunch siesta. Few if none are required in the scene as stillness directs.

This little window of inactivity on a lazy Sunday afternoon is a sweet spot for observers of nothing, at the same time it is ‘full of life’ for the observant. 

 

A childhood memory of such an instance brings me back many years to when I was 7 or 8. It is our family homestead where just three of us were cast in an idyllic scene that framed the perfect lazy Sunday afternoon for me. 

A large luscious lawn spreading out under several coconut palms, under the shade of a short one, sat my mother slicing coconut fronds with a small sharp knife stripping them to their thin stems. The dogs are taking refuge from the heat under the house, my older sister then only a teenager, cradled my head on her knee, using a tiny wooden ear digger exploring my inner ears for wax. My mother while slicing deftly, was surveying the surroundings looking for stray chickens, goats or cows that may wander into our compound. My sister deeply engrossed with the insides of my ear, forced me to keep completely still, only allowing me to take in the entire scene lying on my side as if it was my job to capture, frame and archive this subliminally. While variations of this scene happened several times before at our home, it was this particular situation that stayed with me all these years. Perhaps I was fully engaged with all my senses in that moment feeling a deep sense of connection to the ladies of the house who took care of me. But it wasn’t just about the ladies in the scene as I recall the entire vignette comprising even the smells and texture of the grass, trees, plants, shrubs, background fence, including the large Chiku tree at the end of the fence gently stirring in the afternoon breeze. It was a periphery vision that I had tuned into. A sort of floodlight vision that augmented my spotlight vision that afforded me an expansive even oceanic feel to experiencing the life I was living. 

On that lazy Sunday afternoon, I felt I had a place in this big, complicated, and mysterious world I was thrust into. I felt safe coupled with deep physical and emotional comfort not fully comprehending then, that what I felt was love. 

*Batik painting featured - Chuah Thean Teng, Malaysian artist born 1914 in Fujian, China is widely regarded as the "father of batik art" who developed batik as a means of painting;^[1] "his adaptation of the traditional batik medium into an accepted form of painting ... elevated the status of batik as a craft to an art medium."^[5]

I love you. One Fine Saturday afternoon.

 One Fine Saturday in September. 

I had just finished a short but productive meeting with my Brunei friend and distributor at The Westin in Bukit Bintang. As I made my way back, I walked the short distance fr the hotel to the MRT station positioned right in front of Lot 10. This iconic old-school mall also houses many interesting stores as well as Isetan- my favourite Japanese dept store chain with unrivalled customer service. 

I took the escalators up and after two floors decided to browse along one while heading towards Isetan. 

A traditional red Batek sarong draped over a blue painted fence caught my eye. It was a painting hanging on the wall of an art gallery. The watercolour artist Chang Fee Ming came to mind, only he can accurately capture intricate details of traditional Batek sarongs and rural scenes so beautifully. It was rare to see real artworks by the famous Terengganu native that I simply had to see this one up close. After all most of his works are locked up in private collection and are quickly sold at rightly expensive prices. 

“A Blessing Morning” ~ Ting Cho Chien
Acrylic on canvas 152.6cm x 91.5cm

I was wrong. The artist is Ting Cho Chien, 52 born in Miri, Sarawak. His paintings in acrylic, are very competently executed displaying deftness of subject in fine detail. This is his 4th solo exhibition and it is titled “ Wish On The Same Big Sky” which showcases work between 2020-2022 - The pandemic years. Hence the title, fashioned after lyrics in the song “Somewhere out there” featured in the non-Disney animated musical- An American Tail. I spent some time admiring the art pieces from the exhibition as well as works of other artists on display including a few pieces by Eng Tay, a New York trained Malaysian artist whose figurative abstract paintings center on love and family. 

"Happy Hours" ~ Eng Tay, Oil on canvas 30cm x 40cm

"Precious Time"~ Eng Tay, Oil on canvas 24cm x 24cm.

'Cheerfulness' ~ Yap Chin Hoe, mixed on canvas 20cm x20cm.

Having satiated my soul, I made my way to the upper floors of Isetan where they have authentic Japanese merchandise, crafts and curios on display. Although the offerings were getting less and less over the pandemic years, this experimental, experiential concept store, a first outside of Japan, is a delight to explore. I browsed for a few minutes and managed to pick a couple of fine porcelain rice bowls for my collection and was very well served by an attentive sales assistant named Nur. I thanked her and bid her goodbye as I took the carefully wrapped bowls and escalators down to the ground floor and exited the mall’s main entrance a few steps opposite the MRT station. 

This three-tiered underground station has one level for the concourse & ticketing counters, one level down for the south Kajang bound trains and one more level down for north Kwasa Damansara bound trains. This is probably the only station with such a unique configuration. 

I caught the north bound Kwasa Damansara train that arrived promptly together with a throng of other passengers. Fellow Malaysians of various race, age, and fashion sense, spend their Saturday afternoon with loved ones embarking and disembarking KL's still spanking new MRT coaches. It was a pleasant sight to behold and to be apart of as families, youngsters, strangers, most standing, some sitting, mingle and mix in the casual commute with deference and respect for each other. The children travelling in prams or on tiny feet were especially endearing to watch and interact with. Their genuine smiles seem to be permanently etched on their faces. Even the ones with little masks on. 

After only two stops, I disembarked at Pasar Seni station to catch my connecting LRT to Bangsar. The lift took us up from the underground MRT to the adjoining LRT concourse and the escalator to the above ground platform. As I gently stepped off the escalator to the open air platform, I saw her for the first time- A Fairy, resplendent in costume of olden-day China. Almost exactly like the floating fairy images on mooncake boxes and firecracker packets. 

She was standing near the start of the platform in front of a pillar and a huge standing fan. Her hair was neatly tied up in a bunch like a headgear, adorned with pink and purple faux roses at the back. Her face, hidden by a mandatory white face mask made her all the more mysterious. Her almond shaped eyes peered at me from under finely shaped high eyebrows, two small pieces of white jade stones, one larger than the other, are embedded in the middle of her forehead. From her ears, headphone cables flow down her robe attached to her phone in her right hand. On her left hand, she holds the handle of a round silk fan embroidered with a pair of pandas playing under the branches of a cherry blossom. Her peach coloured silk overcoat was trimmed with a light olive band lightly embroidered with flowers, running around the lapels on her shoulders down to her front edges falling well below her knees. A red blouse and a long sweeping white pleated skirt, that hides a pair of silk embroidered slippers with upturned tips, complete the mystical creature's ensemble. From a distance she looked like a floating apparition.

Having never seen a fairy in person before, I was dumbfounded to say the least. What would you have done? I kept looking at her, discreetly taking pictures from my mobile. She was indeed very meticulously costumed and I was fascinated. I looked around to see if there was a camera crew somewhere filming her. There wasn't. The people standing around her were pretty nonchalant about her 'dress'. No one tried to chat her up nor anyone was conscious about distancing themselves from this 'fairy'. I simply stood observing her and the people around her and I surmised that commuters these days are unperturbed with oddity and have respect for each others individuality and creativity.

'The Fairy's Back' ~ Pineforest.

The train arrived and she effortlessly 'floated' from the platform into the coach as the doors slid open. The people, disembarking or embarking seem to part like water from a ship's hull when she boarded. I followed close behind into the first coach filling to standing room only.

The fairy was hanging nonchalantly onto a hand strap while the train lurched forward, after two stops arrived at my destination- Bangsar station. I squeezed past the thick facade of bodies to disembark, as I brushed past the fairy before stepping on the platform, I told her exactly how she looked. 

She let out a startled "Oh..! Thank you" as I walked out of her life down to my favourite Indian restaurant in Bangsar Utama for my thosai and teh tarek done to my specifications by Mani and his crew. It was a fine Saturday indeed.

"Thosai with 2-chutneys, fish curry, dhal curry" by Chief cook Mani.

I wish you fine days ahead.

P/s. Have you seen a fairy up front before?