Kuala Lumpur

Depending on where you’re coming from, Kuala Lumpur (always called KL by the locals) is either orderly or chaotic. Those coming from neighbouring countries marvel at our ‘orderliness’; the fact that we actually stop at traffic lights, don’t normally run down pedestrians on zebra crossings and do not have hawkers clogging our pavements.

Please don't refer to Brickfields as “Little India” as we who were born and raised in Brickfields find this touristy description simplistic and garish. True, when you enter Brickfields there is an overwhelming presence of shops selling all things Indian. Yes, you can get a good bargain if you are shopping for sarees, Punjabi suits…

Landing in KLIA2, I’m greeted by the welcome sight of the lavatories with payphones next to them. Cleanliness of the toilets was average and the cubicles were spacious enough to accommodate someone with larger hand carry luggage.

Having grown up as a Penang-lang, I have always thought of Kuala Lumpur, or more affectionately known as KL among us Malaysians, as the big city. I can still remember my first memory of having set foot in the city, way back when I was a little girl of 10 years old

I came to live in Bangsar by chance. While looking for a house to buy, and doggedly insisting on other areas of KL, the real estate agent persuaded me to look at a house that she said I could move in ‘right away’.