A dry 'Rain Town'

Taiping Heritage Ride 2025

November 30th, 2025.

The trains used to stop at Taiping in those days. It was a game we shared between my sister and me. Each would predict whether it would rain when the train reached Taiping. It would invariably rain, and I would always win. That is Taiping, the wettest town in Peninsula Malaysia. The Maxwell hills, aka Bukit Larut, near the town, recorded the highest rainfall, second only to Bintulu, according to the meteorological report on sustained high rainfall. Historically, the Maxwell Hills are said to have received 5000mm of rainfall. As a result, it acquired the nickname 'Rain Town'.

So when the Meteorological Department issued a warning that a rare storm had arisen in the Strait of Malacca and would bring torrential rains over many towns in the Peninsula, I was concerned. With my planned cycling race in Taiping all in high gear, the last thing that Taiping needed was torrential rain from a tropical storm. Rain in 'Rain Town' on top of a storm did not sound too good. To top it all off, people started marking themselves as safe on social media in anticipation of floods, heightening the already tense situation. The BBC began showing footage of flood victims in Southeast Asia to set the low mood. 

All through the weekdays leading up to the planned Taiping Heritage Ride on Sunday, I was waiting for announcements from the organisers in anticipation of the freak storm called 'Senyar'. Nothing. News of heavy rain, floods and landslides was reported occurring most in the central and southern parts of the peninsula. 

Come Sunday, everything was hunky dory. No rain, no threat of rain, no roads reported to be underwater and dry roads as well. In fact, for once in my life, I did not experience rain while in Taiping. Almost at 7am, as planned, the 90km ride was flagged off. It was a ride as easy as Sunday morning, to quote the Commodores. 

From a town named 'forever peaceful', Taiping, the cyclists rode, under the supervision of marshals and traffic police, to another 'forever' town, a small town named Selama. (Selama-lama could mean forever.) Mainly cruising on flat terrain, it was a pleasant ride, complemented by mild weather: 23 degrees C, with the sun shyly peeking through the clouds throughout the day.

I knew that Taiping town had come into existence ever since tin was explored on an industrial scale in the mid-19th century. In reality, it had already been mined there. The British exploited it by bringing in dredging machines and mined it to extinction. The local rulers had already been using tin coins earlier.

Tin also brought in the Chinese immigrants, the secret societies - Ghee Hin and Hai San, representing the Cantonese, Hakka and Teochew communities respectively. To transport the merchandise, the first railway lines were built between Taiping and Port Weld in 1885.

Besides this, Taiping also boasts many of its firsts in the country. The first post and telegraph offices, the first fire brigade, the first hill resort in Maxwell Hill, the first library and museum, the first English and Tamil newspapers, and, probably, the first mall. There was even an airstrip, Tekah Aerodrom, in 1929, which would qualify as the first Malaysian airport. It is alleged that Amelia Earhart made a stopover here in 1937 during her ill-fated round-the-world trip. There is a mural to vouch for that, it seems. Her navigational log, however, showed stops only in Bangkok and Singapore with no mention of a layover in Malaya. In all accounts, she would have just flown over Taiping and would have obtained permission from Taiping as a possible place to land in case of emergency.

With an impressive past resume, now Taiping, away from the main highway traffic, has to contend with the tag of a retirees' hometown. 

Continuing the ride from Selama district, the convoy turned to pass Bukit Merah town, a recreational park with lakes, greenery and a water-themed park. I remember travelling on the trains through a long waterway. It used to be never-ending, and in those days, my simple mind thought I was travelling across the sea. Until I saw a stretch of railway line running across the Bukit Merah Lake from a flyover in that small town, the avalanche of memories came rushing back. The train had been travelling across the Bukit Merah lake. 

From there, the ride continued back into Taiping through Kamunting. Kamunting earned its notorious name in 1987, when over 100 people from civil society were incarcerated under the cruel Internal Security Act under the orders of the then Prime Minister, Mahathir Muhammad.

It was back we started, and that was it. Another day, another race done.

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.

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As you like it!

It was 15th August 1947. A day picked out of thin air by the Viceroy to hand over to the natives the freedom to administer their own country any which way they liked it. The highlight of the event, amongst many other similar events in many cities around the country was the hoisting of the new nation's flag. This was happening despite the sporadic unabated violence that was rocking the nation. The Father of the Nation was in mourning, engaged in prayer and meditation, to see his beloved country carved by a butcher's knife by a judge, Sir Radcliffe in what must be anon-gratifying task.To carve up a country with arbitrary geographical landmarks is akin to cutting a limb of a body and expecting the body to function as business as usual! The dendritic roots of brotherhood went way too deep.

In the national capital, the sea of people of different creed, caste and social strata thronged to the proud icon to witness the coveted event. The organisers had underestimated the turnout of 30 thousand by half a million! In the ocean of trapped human beings, the event proceeded with minimal glitch.

Even though the date was deemed inauspicious by the learned pandits when it was initially announced, it was all forgotten. They had said that the day was as doomed as bad luck can be and that they, as a nation, were heading to tumultuous times ahead..

Suddenly, it was as if celestial bodies were smiling at the country once again. Just as the flag stood erect on its pole, the skies showed their seal of approval. A rainbow appeared over the Delhi Gate, the commemorative site that was chosen for this august ceremony. The site, the testimony of the thousands of Indians lives sacrificed for the dignity of the British Crown, held a significant place to the British, and to the Indians.

Talking about the weather and the divine seal of approval, two recent events reminded me of just that. After having daily downpours of torrential rain of late, two of my friends organised two separate functions. By the grace of the powers above, at least that is what they said, it miraculously did not rain on those two days. The host took it as divine blessings. Their prayers had been answered, they said.

Funny. I remember that it rained during my wedding. Raining is an understatement. In poured all day all night the whole day. Many parts of the town were flooded so much so that guests and the musicians were stranded. They, however, arrived eventually. The bridal driver got all his bearings crossed and almost got my bride to the wrong wedding hall. After all that was over, well wishers still said that rain on the wedding is a good sign. It was as though as the Gods are showering their blessings in abundance on the newly weds. How convenient! Always looking at the positive side of life.