A cup of tea and a slice of history

Long before I set foot in Kuala Lumpur, I had actually dreamt about the place.

The stories of Somerset Maugham had conjured up before my eyes pictures of rain drenched plantations with the British planters trying to cope up with the weather, the mosquitos, the rain and their own emotions; trying hard to retain their Englishness even as they found themselves changing in ways they had never thought of.  

But, the first glance of Kuala Lumpur seemed quite the opposite of my dream. The country which had its humble origins in tin and rubber prospecting and was given its name, Kuala Lumpur, literally meaning ‘muddy confluence’ in Malay, today stands tall with wide roads crisscrossed with flyovers, upmarket malls stocked with global fashion brands and endless skyscrapers dotting its cityscape.

The economy that once thrived on tin and rubber plantations today seems to have moved on, ready to match its pace with the modern world. 55 years after its freedom, it’s a city that seems to have successfully overcome its wartorn violence of the past, quite destined to move ahead even further.

And for most tourists, Kuala Lampur is just another beautiful, modern, cosmopolitan city. They shop in the colourful malls, click pictures in the wide open Independence Square, enjoy the breathtaking view of the city from the Petronas Towers, run behind the butterflies in the Butterfly Park, worship the statue of the Lord Murugan outside the scenic Batu caves and eat till they drop in the amazing restaurants.

But a few souls like me who are still suckers for history might wonder;

Where are the rainforests? Where are the rubber plantations?

Where is the city that Maugham had written about?

Is there nothing left of the history of Kuala Lumpur?

And these questions led me down the busy market street to the Coliseum Café.

A small, nondescript building in the middle of the bustling city market, the doors of this iconic British restaurant which first opened its doors in 1921 usher you into a world that seems to be almost a century behind.

Once you step inside, time seems to stand still in the midst of the wood panelled walls.

Everything seems to be exactly as it would have been 90 years ago.  The worn tablecloths, the uniformed waiters, the ‘proper’ menu, the bar in the centre of the room, the newspaper cuttings on the wall; it’s a world that we had forgotten, a world we might have only read about, a world where planters would have sat discussing the latest politics of the day with their pistols by their side, savouring a good meal and a drink and leaving their tensions aside.

You can almost imagine Somerset Maugham sitting at the table with his little notebook, sipping a cup of tea and enjoying his steak as he sketched out a new character – a paragon of virtue who is not quite what he seems.  Yes, Somerset Maugham was a frequent visitor at the hotel when he stayed in Malaya and the newspaper cuttings still bear testimony to the fact.

And as you order a cup of tea and the steak that the hotel is still famous for, you wonder how long the magic would still remain. Would the hotel survive a 100 years and live to cross a century?

Would you still go there for the food? Probably not, there are better places for that in Kuala Lumpur.

But you might want the old waiters to pour you one more cup of tea as you feel the magic of the past come alive.

You might to sit and savour the moment for a little more time. After all, you know that the minute you step outside, the old world would disappear and you would get lost in the real world.