IT is often said that reading a good book is akin to making a journey. And what better time than now — during this Covid-19 pandemic — to be presented with an opportunity of travelling through time and space, via books.
912 Batu Road is a great Merdeka read, thanks to both fictional and true accounts of the country's fight for freedom, the unity of her people, and the emergence of everyday heroes who place their beloved homeland Malaya above everything else.
At a time when we are unable to indulge in inter-state travel, author Viji Krishnamoorthy has successfully transported her readers to different destinations in Malaysia through her book.
From the comfort of our homes, we are able to gain historical insights into the Japanese Occupation and how families looked out for each other, regardless of ethnicity or religious beliefs, in fighting their oppressors.
It is also a tale of fear, pain, atrocities, devastation, separation and trauma, which are often associated with war and strife.
The book speaks volumes of the resilience of the people of Malaya, their family ties, friendships forged (and broken) the pain and losses endured, and how love conquers everything.
History, culture and architecture buffs will enjoy the "road trip" Krishnamoorthy takes her readers around the streets of George Town and elsewhere.
It is almost like a curated heritage tour is being offered, as one is taken along Sri Bahari Road, Chowrasta Market, St Xavier's Institution and the Eastern & Oriental Hotel, among others.
In Perak, one gets to travel around towns like Kampar and its surrounding jungles, and pop into the shophouse in Papan, which was once occupied by freedom fighter Sybil Medan Karthigasu, a Malayan Eurasian nurse who, with her husband Dr Abdon Clement Karthigasu, supported the resistance during the Japanese occupation of Malaya.
She was the only Malayan woman to be ever awarded with the George Medal for bravery.
The steps of former police inspector Gurchan Singh (also known as Singha the Lion of Malaya) are also retraced as we are taken to the Wadda Gurdwara Sahib in Penang (previously known as the Diamond Jubilee Sikh Temple), and other spots on the island, as he fearlessly distributed printed leaflets telling people to defy the Japanese.
Gurchan, who managed to avoid detection by hiding his papers in his bicycle frame, later became the principal security officer of Malaysia's first prime minister, Tunku Abdul Rahman.
While the book is centred on the life of a closely-knit South Indian Brahmin family who lived at 912 Batu Road (now Jalan Tuanku Abdul Rahman) in Kuala Lumpur, Krishnamoorthy brings to the table her family, their friends, traditions, taboos, celebrations, triumphs and tragedies, and serves up a truly Malaysian story, which each of us can identify with as either children of the then Malaya, or the anak Malaysia who can look back with pride on the sacrifices made by our forefathers.
The book proves to be a good cause for the celebration of all things Malaysian as we are nearing the 64th Merdeka Day next week.
And once the pandemic is over and we are free to travel around our beloved country, 912 Batu Road can serve as the perfect reference and companion (and be a source of Instagramable backdrops) as we rediscover the joys of domestic travel.
912 Batu Road will be available in major bookstores from next month.
The writer, a former NST news editor, chases Kodak moments of sunrises and sunsets, and anything else in between on an island in lockdown