Kuala Lumpur City

In Kuala Lumpur I stayed with a couchsurfer in Taman Bhagia. My first experience living in somebody else’s place for free. The ultimate test for your ego and humility. You cannot demand but accept with gratitude that what you receive. Was I ready for it? In retrospect, yes. However, at that moment, in all honesty I was a bit unsure. While I have been a host many times, I had never been a couchsurfer before. It’s easy to give but difficult to receive. I guess because when you give, you give to whatever capacity you can and hence you are in control. When you receive, you have to be ready for whatever comes your way. I guess that makes receiving quite hard. The lack of control and the need for gratitude and humility involved. 

Anyway, I stayed with a Chinese girl who was running a guest house that she offered to couchsurfers when there were no bookings. Lucky for us, during our stay no new guests were expected. There were four of us in that Japanese style dormitory. A Canadian, a German and we two Indians. A motley group of people with little else in common but a lust for travel. Our host stayed at her apartment a little way from the hostel. We rarely saw her as she worked in the morning and came pretty late at night.

But on our second evening in her hostel, we did have a chat. She was a third generation Chinese living in Malaysia. Her grandparents came during the second world war and settled there. I asked her if there were many like her in Malaysia and she replied with an affirmation. In fact according to her, very few original Malays were left in Malaysia. The population as of now consists mostly of Chinese who married local Malay in their journey through history. We spoke about India a bit and she expressed her wish to come and visit the country. "I don't know but. It feels scary. I don't think I would come without a boyfriend," she said. I could not say anything to assure her that my country is safe. I wasn't really sure if it was or would be for her.

I smiled and went back to my room. I wasn't feeling too good. It was my first time out of the country and I was terribly missing my family and feeling completely out of place. The German came and saw me in tears. He was shocked when he realized why I was so upset. Genuinely shocked. He was 24 and had left his family when he was but 16. He thought he remembered being upset initially but he couldn't be sure about it. He spoke with his divorced parents once in a month and did not wish to go back.

During this conversation, the Canadian came and told me he was the only son of his still married parents. He missed them but wasn't ready to go back as yet. He couldn't connect with his friends and family. He couldn't understand how they can live in the same place and not have the urge to move. They couldn't understand his need to. He disliked the sameness of things. "They still speak about the same things they did 10 years ago. I don't get it," he said. I looked at him and wondered what I wouldn't give at this moment to sit in my home with my childhood friends and talk about our legendary stories from the past, the way we do so many times.

I looked at the Canadian as he moved away. He looked so distant. The German too eager. I picked up my mobile and called my parents. After crying my eyes out and done with feeling so disoriented, I walked to the drawing room. The Canadian planned to watch Gone Girl on the big TV and I didn't have anything better to do. All of us sat down to watch it. Right in the middle of one of the sex scenes, the movie stopped. Sitting in somebody else's house, who wasn't even there, watching a movie that decides to stop at this juncture with strange men from different countries, was an experience I will never forget. All of us stared straight ahead as if the movie was still on and no one moved a muscle. After 5 minutes of complete silence, I decided to break the awkwardness by saying it was too late and maybe we should all just call it a day.

We went back and slept on our comforters, lost in our own thoughts.