Apocalypse Now

Imagine a  nuclear detonation. Visualise the damage and destruction from the resulting shock waves. Roofs and windows on every building are blown out. What is left standing are skeletal concrete structures that withstood the blast. When the dust, debris and thermal radiation settle a bit, survivors (if any) see a silent, eerie ghost town.

But it wasn’t a nuclear detonation. It was a swamp of locusts at work. They descended on the area, stripped every metal structure or parts with military precision. From window frames, roller shutter doors to cable trunking. Even wiring inside the walls and ceiling were yanked out. But the locusts weren’t insects. They were human scrap metal scavengers or besi buruk collecors, as we call them. Now; imagine you are the helpless owner stuck with an unsellable, unrentable property saddled by a hefty bank loan. Financial apocalypse for certain.

Photographed on location at the part-abandoned township of Bandar Armada Putra, Pulau Indah.

Apocalypse Now

The Medicine Shop

The traditional Chinese medicine shop is slowly fading from the city landscape. Still found in smaller towns, the shops typically feature a bamboo sun blind sponsored by Pil Chi Kit Teck Aun. The pills are the favourite Malaysian remedy for diarrhea. It works almost every time though you must be careful not to overdose. You might end up not going to the loo for weeks as a result 🙂

The Medicine Shop

Little Stewardesses

Driving through the little town of Ulu Beranang near Broga, I thought I saw several petite stewardesses rushing to the airport. Turned out to be a bunch of elementary school kids dragging their heavy bags home. Unlike their counterparts in the city, there is no doting parent, chauffeur or maid waiting at the gate to carry their burden. Be it urban or rural, isn’t it time we get a tablet into every child’s hand?

Little Stewardesses