There is just something about trains and railway stations, well, at least for me.

I have always loved them; be it the trains in motion or even just being at the station itself.

It may have something to do with the railway set I had as a child, that set off that long term affinity with the connected carriages rolling on steel wheels in a uniform motion.
(The old-fashioned locomotive types are even better, complete with the steam puffing from its chimney and that black handsome front)

Then there is that love and profound interest I have for history; it is just unexplainable the power that had me drawn to anything historical.

Put two and two together, I am all hooked.

That is why I found myself drawn to this old railway station; one of the oldest in the country, in Kuala Lipis, as though there was a strong magnetic force surrounding me.




The tracks, the old-fashioned facade, the outdated train timetable, the clock and the overall atmosphere are left as they were in their original state since its birth in 1926.




It was then one of the biggest railway stations established and running in Malaya; aimed to connect the southern towns.

Kuala Lipis was then flourishing as the gold mining center and the train was an important mode of transportation for that purpose, along with charcoal.

The train was even considered as one of the first and foremost land transportation in this part of Malaya; connecting the town of Kuala Lipis to Johor Bahru in the south and to Cegar Perah and Tumpat, Kelantan in the east.
It was definitely one of the earliest links and played a vital role in accessing these towns/points between the central, south and east of the mainland.

The importance of this transportation benefited the locals definitely, but it also became one of the main tool leading the Japanese troops to succeed in their plan of occupying Singapore during their colonization period.

The Kuala Lipis Railway Station has certainly seen more of its fair share in the historical background of Malaya since its establishment, which now looms silently in the past and unseen shadows of the rustic appearance greeting its visitor every single day.




No amount of paint coatings could subdue that reality; that part which makes up the story of the railway station.

It is what makes up the identity of the station, and all that part of its allure; without which, there will be no story to tell.




After all, every place has a story, a past; which is known or unknown and perhaps invisible to the naked eye.
Just like every one of us.

Without a past, there is no present let alone a future.

The tracks and the fading colors on some of the walls are sure signs of that concealed past, retaining its original glory and tales from its beginning.





They remain as reminders of what it once was, standing there in its own shadowy cast.

I could sit on the bench, by the slab, or even walk on the tracks and imagine the scenes from the past; of how it was really like back then when the railway station runs in its busiest mode.

Carriages carrying loads of charcoal and gold, sooty-faced young men hollering as they try to balance themselves between the platforms and on the train, soldiers guarding and shoving their accomplices, or hovering over flimsy paper mapping their strategies as the local peasants stand waiting for their train to arrive.






Scenes from the past, though may no longer be in the present but will never be forgotten.
It will always linger around, in spirit

And in memory...

Memories of what it once was, will never be forgotten...