Melaka puts you in a time warp, at once intensely fascinating you with its rich heritage and history and then transporting you back to the wonders of present-day civilization

As you drift on the Melaka river, the thought suddenly floats into your mind that Melaka is actually two different cities. By night and by day. Not in a very schizophrenic state of being, where a place is still struggling to adopt an identity of its own, but in a peaceful transformation of being an intensely fascinating city echoing stories from the past in the daylight, to a peaceful, modern city which has retained its calm demeanour even amidst high-rises and the madness that comes with being a touristy city. And the shedding of one identity and donning another comes naturally, as the sun goes down and the yellow and red lights go up, illuminating all places of historical importance and otherwise. After disembarking, we stroll along the riverside and reach a point where a six-piece band is set up against the banks, entertaining passers-by with their singing and music.

We sit down for a bit. The vocalist comes up to us and asks me where I am from. When I say India, his eyes light up and he instantly begins a nasal Anglicised rendition of Mere Mann Ki Ganga. He encourages me to sing the flirtatious, childish female vocal bits, and even though I croak into the microphone, he appears truly pleased. And such is the warmth of Melaka, one of the treasures of Malaysia, which many Indians bypass to see the clichéd delights in Kuala Lumpur, Genting and Langkawi. It’s not like Melaka’s been kept as a secret from the rest of the world. It’s just that you need a certain mentality to be able to appreciate the beauty of this place fully. So if you prefer loading your bags with cheap Malaysian shopping, you’d rather head to KL, and if there are impatient kiddies in tow, you’d rather hit off at Genting.

Melaka (or Malacca), the third smallest Malaysian state, is located in the southern region of the Malay
Peninsula, on the Straits of Malacca. With its Portuguese, Dutch and British colonial history and its rich Peranakan (Straits Chinese) cultural heritage, the old city’s colourful heritage acts as a money-spinner for the Malaysian government. What was delightful to strollers like us was that in spite of
being quite large in size, it’s possible to see most of Melaka’s sights on foot. Colourful trishaws adorned with garish, fake flowers and with music, often Bollywood, blasting from them (we were
subjected to Kuch Kuch Hota Hai and Kabhi Khushi, Kabhi Gham, on more than one occasions) make for a delightful, yet costly, way of getting around.

We chose the Jerak Warisan Heritage trail, which ensured that we would see most of the major cultural sites. Kicking off from the quayside, it led us across the bridge to the Baba Nyonya Heritage museum, which is actually an opulent, traditional house. It gives you a chance to review the family heirloom and peek into the lives of the Baba (male) and Nyonya (female) of that time. We walked on to Chinatown’s Jonker Street, and were awed by the pretty, petite houses with immaculate carvings on their pillars and walls. It is, however, a pity that many of the heritage structures have been destroyed to serve the mass commercialisation that the place intends to attract. The antique shops drew our attention, and good bargainers that we Indians are, we made sure that the Chinese lamps and bookmarks that we picked up, were quaint and quite reasonable. Try catching the carnival atmosphere here on the weekends. Around Chinese New Year, which is when we were there, the entire section is bathed in surreal, red lights, making it look mysterious and friendly at the same time.

Chinese and Hindu temples, and a mosque, quietly rest on the same street and a short distance away from each other. As you move in and out of one to the other, you feel the diversity pulsating through their corridors. The Cheng Hoon Teng Temple is the oldest Chinese temple outside China. Inside,
animation has been frozen in time in glass and porcelain figurines, and the wood carvings are simply breathtaking. We felt we were in Matunga rather than Melaka in Sri Poyyatha Vinayagar Moorthi Temple, where the main deity is Ganesha’s. Melaka has quite a big community of South Indian migrants (and has a Little India where you can feast on dosas and upma). The Kampung Kling Mosque, one of the oldest in Malaysia, was built under the Sumatran influence. It is fascinating to observe that instead of the typical Byzantium dome, there rests a tiered pyramidal roof. The minaret looks more like a pagoda.

We then walk back across the bridge to reach the imposing Stadthuys at the town centre. The oldest-surviving Dutch building in the East, it stands apart with its bright terracotta red colour, the louvred windows and chunky doors, and holds an extensive and fantastic history museum. The beautiful Victoria fountain just outside allows you to rest your tired legs and gape at the prominent clock tower and the Christ Church right there. With original Dutch architecture, the church houses handcrafted benches, jointless ceiling skylights, a copper replica of the Bible, a headstone written in the
Armenian language and a replica of The Last Supper.

A curving road led us to St Paul Hill and though we were quite fatigued by now, the promise of fascination held us through. A path led us atop the hill to St Paul’s Church, where the body of
St Francis Xavier once lay (now in Goa). The view of the city from here gives you a good idea of its size and the magnificent attractions, and you suddenly feel humbled with the glimpse of history and the present serenely inter-mingling. You climb down and walk on to the East bank which houses
a reconstruction of a sea vessel that sank off the Melaka coast. Though the Maritime Museum showcases the famed Melaka sultanate of the 14th century, it would be quite alright to give it a miss.

We stroll back to our beloved riverbank which has become an ever-constant factor on our trip, while we sip on some refreshing Ice Kacang. It feels like we are caught in a time warp, for even as we wave to random tourists on a speedboat over the river, the Stadthuys behind us once again reminds us of
things that once were. And the things that will be. And the river stands as a testimony to the changing times, in its ever-present, ever-flowing state, where you can come back again and again, and feel one with the universe.