You know how, sometimes, people feel the need to get away from the bustling city life, leave the rat race, vacate the concrete jungle, take a break from the neon lights wilderness, have a recess from dog-eat-dog corporate world and retreat to some nature somewhere to “clear the mind”?
Yea, I’m not one of them.
I love the city. I love skyscrapers; I love bright lights; I love shiny glass windows reflecting even shinier metallic structures that grow from clean structured tar roads and reach mightily into the sky. I love the energy you get from just walking down the sidewalk amidst people of a place that never sleeps.
While growing up in Penang, I always dreamed of relocating to Kuala Lumpur — the nearest biggest city to my sleepy little island hometown — and I’ve not regretted it one bit. Now that I’ve been here 8-going-on-9 years, I still have not bored of it, although I am beginning to hear the distant calling of bigger, shinier, more advanced cities elsewhere.
I returned to sunny Singapore for a weekend recently for work and got just the exact dose of “metropolism” as I like to call it. Ah the smell of productivity, the taste of purpose in the air emanating from people with places to go and things to do.
How can anyone not like big cities? I get so bored it hurts in small towns.
Singapore was reinvigorating to me much like how a vacation to Bali might be for some people; refreshing full of purposeful air much like that of Tibetan mountain air for others.
And now I’m ready to embrace Kuala Lumpur again.