6 February 2012
The buildings in the city resembled a clash of eras. The tinted glass windows of modern skyscrapers glistened under the morning sun, while the ornate windows of Victorian churches sparkled as the jewels of the city; their classy stone walls heavily embroidered with baroque designs. One church had gray gargoyles carved into its exterior. Melbourne's pride and beauty vested in its fusion of classical and contemporary structures, making it a desirable city for the locals and tourists.
Chapel Street was paved with diamonds and gold. Chanel fitted smugly between Tiffany's and Prada. Pretty Australian women jogged by in shorts and tanks in the middle of winter, while proud mothers in Gucci sunglasses pushed their fancy prams containing babies clad in designer outfits. This was the Rodeo Drive of Melbourne, burgeoning with extravagant labels and expensive restaurants.
Winter was at its peak this week. The sun beamed upon the city, but I barely felt its warmth. It seemed to be frozen behind the large slate of ice which was the sky.
When I walked into Eureka Tower, the tallest tower in the city, I saw the breathtaking view of Melbourne hundreds of feet beneath me. The city, systematically mapped on a grid, stretched so far that I barely saw the end of it. The roads were always inhibited by vehicles. Buses and trams were the main transportations, apart from cars and cabs. The trams resembled the cable cars in San Francisco, traveling obediently along the specific routes designed for them.
Style was the essence of this thriving city. The people parading the streets were dressed to the nines in their winter coats and boots. The women were walking catalogue models, strutting their frilly blouses and skinny jeans beneath leather jackets. Heavily adorned with shiny accessories, they strutted around with an air of confidence riding on their heels, emanating Chanel fragrances.
Continuing down the busy streets, I heard the sound of hooves among the roar of vehicles. Policemen on horses cantered through the traffic. I watched in amusement, wondering why other cities hadn't adopted this brilliant idea. The contrast between mammal and machine was a unique sight. The horses cantered throughout the city, past Crown Hotel, the most luxurious hotel in Melbourne.
Crown Hotel accommodated thousands of celebrities, including Tom Cruise, Lady Gaga and Kim Kardashian. The lobby was elaborately embellished; crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceilings and prisms of light danced off the crystals into the white marble floor, which was graced by the soles of famous people.
The sky darkened after 4.30 p.m. and the street lamps sprang to life, bathing the city in a therapeutic orange glow. I was dismayed to learn that all the shops in the city closed at 5 p.m, except restaurants and bars.
The city seemed different at night. Melbourne, like every big city in the world, was haunted with a sad side. As I walked down Swanston Street, beggars sat on the pavements with their tin cans and bowls, looking pitiful as they shivered under their battered jackets.
An old woman with scraggly white hair and a crooked nose, held out her plastic bowl to passers-by with a shriveled hand, dotted with old-age. Her eyes were deep pools of sorrow. The deep lines in her solemn face were hard to look at because they broke my heart. What was an old lady doing here? Where was her family? Where was her home?
As I glanced over my shoulder one last time to look at her, I noticed the other beggars, slumped and shivering, and the sad truth sliced through my conscience. This was their home. The streets, plagued with rubbish and horse odors, were their home. In the cold winter night, the only thing left to keep them warm was the small flicker of hope in their hearts, impelled by every kind penny in their bowl.
Two weeks later, I was on the plane back to Malaysia. As the plane ascended several thousand feet into the air, I glanced out the window and drank in the beauty of Melbourne city for the last time. That was how I remembered the city; a massive sea of gold and silver lights, shimmering resplendently in the night.
Melbourne, Australia • Opuss № I