IN the heart of Melaka, the sun rises over a town steeped in history and cultural fusion. Jonker Walk stirs — in fits and groans — beneath the brightening skies, slowly awakening a kaleidoscope of sights and sounds that tell tales of centuries past.
Shutters are rolled open, faces peer out and so it begins all over again. The town embarks on a new day, much like the unspoken enchantment of throwing open unseen gates, extending an invitation to all who wish to step into the warm embrace of its colonial heritage once more.
It's a good day to be out and about in this place.
The air is kissed with the aroma of freshly brewed kopi and the subtle hint of spices, a precursor to the sensory journey that awaits. Vendors are already in motion, arranging their stalls with the meticulous care of artists preparing their galleries.
Displays of ornate Nyonya kebayas, intricate silver jewellery and handwoven textiles catch the light, their lustrous allure enhanced by the dappled sunbeams that find their way through the canopy of those row of pre-war shops.
As the day unfolds, a steady stream of visitors, both locals and wanderers, converge upon the street, their footfalls echoing the rhythmic heartbeat of this historic enclave.
Conversations blend in a medley of languages, a testament to the diverse crowd that Jonker Walk and all the spiderweb of roads that branch off from this main street, effortlessly draws. The laughter of children mingles with the tales spun by seasoned storytellers, their voices carrying echoes of legends from the past.
The sound of the erhu (a Chinese two-stringed fiddle) echoes through one road. A woman closes her eyes in beatific rapture as she plucks out the notes from her instrument.
Traditional melodies ebb and flow, carried on the breeze by musicians whose instruments seem to converse with the timeworn walls of the surrounding architecture. In the heart of this charming commotion, culinary artisans wield their expertise.
Hawkers serve up morsels of culinary delight that beckon with their tantalising fragrances. The sizzle of satay on grills harmonises with the steady rhythmic kok kok kok tapping of the chisel and mallet. The young bespectacled girl extracts small pieces from a circular slab of candy that's both savoury sweet and nutty.
"Come! Follow me!" my affable tour guide Pek Choo weaves through the crowds of people. "There's something you must see!"
It's hard to catch up with the diminutive woman who walks ahead of me. Where's she going? I wonder, clutching my knapsack and trying hard not to trip over the uneven sidewalks.
She swiftly disappears into one of the older shops on Harmony Street or Jalan Tokong (which runs parallel to Jonker Walk) beneath the weathered sign that says "Sin Lee Seng". Within, a cluttered nook unfolds, bathed in the sterile glow of a white fluorescent ceiling light. An antiquated fan lazily stirs the air, offering scant respite from the palpable humidity outside.

But there's something else in this little nondescript shop that elicits a gasp of delight from me.
Hanging all around, like enchanted remnants of my youth, are those colourful cellophane-wrapped lanterns that dangle overhead like suspended dreams. I remember these lanterns well.
I carried my favourite fish-shaped lantern when I was probably around 7 or 8 years old, during the mid-autumn festival back in my taman. I didn't know what that festival meant back then, of course. But I loved carrying the delicate animal-shaped lantern, which had a single lit candle, all around the neighbourhood with my friends.
We laughed and ran with our lanterns. The glow of the candle breathed life into our little "animal" lanterns, while the cellophane's hues cast colourful shadows on our faces.
I gently trace one of the cellophane lanterns with my finger.
"I can tell you played with these lanterns when you were a child!" Pek Choo tells me gleefully and I smile. "Well, come and meet Chong Swee Ching. He's probably one of the few remaining lantern-makers here!"
We walk past a woman seated at the corner of the shop who's peering intently through her glasses as she carefully wraps colourful cellophane paper around an animal-shaped wire frame. She doesn't look up despite our rather noisy entrance into the shop.
"Come in! Come in!" a cheerful voice rises above the loud music on the radio. A cherubic man smiles widely from where he's seated. He's busy twisting the pliable wire into a shape. "I'm Chong," he introduces himself simply.
INHERITED CRAFT
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"I've been in this trade for as far back as my memory serves," he confides, gesturing expansively across the shop. "We're lantern-makers spanning three generations now — my grandfather opened this shop and started the business, my father inherited the business and now, it's my turn," he adds with a resolute smile.
It's hard to move around in this narrow space that resembles a whimsical menagerie of small, fanciful animals. Rabbits, fishes, mice, flying Pegasus hang all around and crowd the floor, leaving little space to move about, while majestic dragons keep watch.
The 66-year-old man makes each and every one of those lanterns by hand.

Further within the shop, an assortment of wire frames hang suspended from an improvised rail. Chong sits at a table, hunched over a wooden block embellished with nails tracing the contours of a rooster.
His calloused hands deftly manoeuvre strands of wire around the nails, and swiftly, the structure of a lantern, taking the form of a rooster, emerges.
"It's not an easy thing to do, and not anyone can do this," he remarks, shaking his head. "I have four brothers, but I'm the only one to take over this business."
Rising from his chair, Chong points to the ceiling fan and tells me as an aside: "This shop is around 100 years old. In fact, the fan is older than I am!" And he breaks into hearty laughter.

Lanterns constitute just a fraction of his repertoire. The father of four rummages through one of the shelves and retrieves a pair of his cherished gasing (tops). "This one boleh masuk padang main… (You can take this out to the field and play)," he quips, gesturing towards one with a playful flourish.
Pek Choo then draws my attention to the kites hanging together with the colourful lanterns. "Chong is also famous for his kites," she reveals.
"These kites..." she continues while caressing a plain white one made from light bamboo and waxed paper, "...are often used for 'fighting'!" The strings attached are sometimes coated in a solution of crushed glass.

To win the game, she shares, the players would attempt to destroy the opponents' kites by cutting them loose with these "razor-sharp" strings. "That's where the crushed glass comes into play!" she says, grinning.
Chong nods, agreeing with her explanation. His father, Chong reveals, was a gasing champion as young boy. "I found an interest in playing layang-layang (kite) and used to win a lot of competitions. Now, I just make them!" he says, chuckling.
He learnt his craft from his father, who was a tough taskmaster. "He'd scold me incessantly, but I learnt so much from him." During that era, a mere quintet of lantern-crafters populated the district, labouring to produce cellophane lanterns that would grace the mid-autumn festival this month.
As a young boy, Chong observed how his father produced these lanterns before attempting to make his own in his spare time. "It was like a hobby to me. If you asked me to study, I'd probably can't do that. I mean, in Form 3, I kena tendang already! (I got kicked out of school when I was in Form 3)" he confesses sheepishly, before adding: "Sadly, all the master craftsmen have passed away. It's left to me now to carry on with this craft and tradition."
FAMILY AFFAIR
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According to Chong, lantern-making is a craft that involves the whole family. Before the creative process unfolds, Chong prepares the frames meticulously. He snips and arranges wire strands by size, placing them within reach for the upcoming lantern assembly.
Dedicated wooden blocks become canvases for each lantern design. The wires intertwine, forming intricate frames of the respective animal or shape. These frames slowly take shape, bound by connectors and holders for candles, forming into captivating three-dimensional structures. "My son creates the design blocks from which the lantern takes its shape," he informs with pride.

Chong's wife would then adroitly attach trimmed cellophane papers to the framework. After which, he enlists his daughter in the final embellishing phase.
"My daughter does the painting — adorning fish with scales, adding animal features, and adding artful brushstrokes to the lantern," he shares.
"It's not a lucrative business at all!" he laments, adding: "It takes four of us to create one lantern, so I'm only able to make 20 to 30 lanterns a day."
The cost of each lantern is RM15 for the smaller size and RM20 for the larger one. "I definitely can't make much selling this. What's more, I have to pay the rest for helping me make these lanterns. I barely make enough," he explains, adding: "I run a renovation business on the side, but I'm half-retired now. So, I'm able to do this as a hobby!"

The lanterns are mostly in the shape of the animals in the Chinese zodiac. "They're very popular, but I do add a few extras like fishes and this flying horse!" he points to a Pegasus lantern and grins.
The lanterns are only out for sale now. Once the mid-autumn festival is over, they will be taken down, and according to Chong, the gasing will then be put on display. "Everything here has a season," he says sagely.
Do you intend to pass this business to your children? I ask. He looks slightly morose and grows quiet for a while.
He doesn't think his son and three daughters are keen on carrying on with this craft. "I've always encouraged them to do what makes them happy," he finally answers wistfully. "Jangan jadi macam saya (Don't be like me). I was born here in Jonker Walk. I never moved from this place…"

Reaching up, he brings down a lantern and looks at it with a slight smile on his face. "I'll do this for as long as I can. Hopefully one of my children will be interested in taking over this business. Otherwise, this craft will probably die with me," he says quietly.
This is where I leave him, bathed in the colourful glow of his own creations that hang suspended from the ceiling.
The elderly lantern-maker stands in his little shop with his wife by his side and in his weathered gaze, a kaleidoscope of emotions dances — pride in his skill, nostalgia for the days of bustling trade and the poignant awareness that his craft might not endure the passage of time.
In those moments, I'm transported back to the days when I was a little girl, strolling through my neighbourhood while carefully carrying a fragile cellophane lantern with its gentle glow illuminating the night.
Those memories are more precious than I can express, shimmering with the magic of bygone times. And it's artisans like Chong who've gifted us with these luminous wonders, each lantern a testament to the artistry that makes our memories shine so brightly.