From Kluang to KL: The journey north

By Woon Tien Li

I am on the bus. Departing from the bus station, we weave through the traffic and head north-west. Jalan Batu Pahat. My former school is clearly visible from the road when the bus stops at the traffic lights. The black rusty signboard states “CANOSSIAN CONVENT” in silver block letterings.

One more minute, and I can see the orange building no more. A few more sets of traffic lights. Taman Saujana, the newly built housing area, has decorative flags along its main road. Then the factories: Asahi, which has since closed down; MML the tile factory. The lone driving school whose name I never bothered to remember.

We pass by the cemetery. Trees mark its boundary. Tall lalang everywhere except under those trees. A laterite road leading to an empty building used for funeral ceremonies divides the cemetery grounds into half. On the left, the Buddhist graves, each at a certain angle to ensure good feng shui. Here, Ah Kong and Ah Ma lie in silence next to each other. On the right, the simple Christian graves with white crosses exude calmness and peace.

The once winding road has now been straightened. There used to be endless rows of oil palms right next to the road. In the day you could see through the selang-seli of them till about 10 metres. At night, it is pitch black. Kids believe that “Beings” live in these oil palm estates, feeding on children who go that way at night.

Institut Penyelidikan dan Penternakan Haiwan Ayer Hitam consists of a few pink buildings and vast grounds. Commonly known as “Institut Haiwan,” it is popular as a camping ground and picnic ground. Outstation people fall in love with the rolling hills, the cows and horses and sheep and all the other animals. Indeed, the clouds do seem to draw close to you as you drive along the laterite road.

The journey to the Ayer Hitam toll plaza takes about 15 minutes, travelling at an average speed of 95 km per hour.

The bus turns left towards the toll gate. We cross the railway track, which runs through a tunnel below the road. I strain my eyes, hoping to get a glimpse of the town of Kluang, although I know full well I cannot. One last good look at the oil palm plantations. Green everywhere, with specks of brown shacks and shiny zinc roofs.

The bus reaches the toll gate. I inhale deeply. The signboard ahead points the way to Kuala Lumpur. I sigh and look out of the window behind me as Kluang slowly disappears from my sight.