Sri Bahari Road, Penang

Sri Bahari Road, Penang

            There are many roads in Penang, some long and some short ones. There are also hundreds of lanes here. The famous roads are Penang Road, Macalister Road, Burmah Road, Khaw Sim Bee Road, Clove Hall Close, Chulia Street, Campbell Street, Northam Road, Transfer Road, Magazine Road, Carnavon Street and Brick Kiln Road, now called Gurdwara Road. These roads are right in the centre of Georgetown. There are also roads like Jelutong Road, Air Itam Road, Waterfall Road, Tanjung Bungah Road, Mount Erskine Road, Air Rajah Road and others, to name a few. There are lanes like Hutton Lane, Love Lane, Aboo Siti Lane and these are narrow roads but well used by the public.  Roads are there for a reason but to me  these roads and lanes bring back beautiful memories.

 

           If you walk about 100 steps from Northam Road or now called Jalan Sultan Ahmad Shah in Penang at the intersection of Transfer Road you will come to Sri Bahari Road. Today I am going to tell you why Sri Bahari is a special road for me. It may be the shortest with about 50 houses on each side of the road but it has memories that are etched in my mind and I have to tell you this road’s special reason.

            This story is from the time when I was just a little girl of about 5 or 6 years old. A Punjabi family had moved from Green Hall to a house at 32 Sri Bahari Road. The father of this family late Jagir Singh Mehta and his wife Charan Kaur had 7 children, 2 boys and 5 girls. How Mr Jagir Singh and my father met is a coincidence. While shopping at Gurcharan Singh Sambhi’s shop my father met with Jagir Singh and came to know his family had moved to Sri Bahari Road.

 

            We were living at Northam Road so it did not take much time for my mother to visit them and we became friends. The first girl Sarjit Kaur or Polly was a bit older than me, Kaldip or Jessi was the same age as me, Salinder (Shindo) Ranjit (Rani) and Manjit (Maney) much younger than me. Both the boys Sarjit Singh and Mindar Singh were much older so they were like big brothers to all of us.

 

            After school I would visit my new found friends and play the games girls played those days, “masak-masak” or hide and seek.  We usually played in the back lane of their house, laying a mat on the ground and doing our thing. Unfortunately, our playing out had to stop due to a flasher who came on his bicycle, passed by and started flashing at us. We screamed and ran inside the house through the back door.  On another day, Sarjit our big brother chased the flasher but could not catch this guy as he sped off on his bicycle.

 

            Now some background story on this family. Jagir Singh worked as a security guard during the day at a bus company and continued working elsewhere during the night. In between shifts, he would come home, spend some time with the family and around 8pm left for the night duty after having his dinner. So, most of the day Charan Kaur or Masi Charno as I called her looked after the household and the children’s education. Sarjit was in secondary school and studied hard for his examinations. He was helpful in many ways to our family. He would come around and cover my text books, teach me Mathematics when I didn’t understand some topics. He would also help my mother when she requested him to buy cinema tickets for us, of course with some tip for him, he got a ticket too. Those days films like Haathi Mere Saathi, Mera Naam Joker and Bobby were some Hindi movies not to be missed. Our papa went to work while we enjoyed watching the movies. Life was balanced, we studied and also had fun.  

 

            Sarjit or Singh’s life wasn’t smooth sailing.  After finishing high school, he worked for the Local City Council and later landed a job in their office. Some time later he got married with a girl from Ipoh and settled down. They had three boys and life being life, started paying attention to them. As the boys were growing up, Sarjit had his ups and downs and some years later I heard he was not feeling too well. His condition deteriorated and he passed on leaving behind his widow and three sons. He may have left this world but I would like to stress here that Singh was a gem of a gentleman as he never hurt anyone’s feelings. He loved singing old Hindi songs and was always jovial. He helped in whatever way he could and that is one quality of kindness I will not forget. They were not rich as Singh’s family moved to live in an apartment from Sri Bahari Road but they had big hearts, offering whatever they had to us to whoever paid them a visit. Singh and his little family lived in a Bayan Baru apartment but being a hardworking person managed to buy a nice double-storey house in Sungai Ara where his family now lives comfortably. I pay my tribute to him for all that he has done for me and still remember his smile.

 

            Just before Singh got married, his sisters Polly and Jessi were married off to make room for a daughter-in-law. Much later, Mindar Singh married and stayed with his parents at 32 Sri Bahari Road. The other sisters were married one by one and Mindar Singh’s family moved to an apartment in Macallum Street. Whenever I pass by this road on my visits to Penang, my eyes would be set on this house with excitement.  How much fun we used to have here at 32. Although we were not blood related but Jagir’s family is more family than I can have. Till today, when I visit, I hug everyone tightly to show them how much I love them.

 

            Now more on Sri Bahari Road. There was another Punjabi family who lived on this road.  This gentleman Sharimi Singh was a government hospital assistant. He was educated and had six children, three boys and three girls. He sent his 3 children (Bindy, Ranjit and Bachi) to the United Kingdom for higher education, his sons became lawyers and his daughter did nursing.  Another son Joginder was sent to Australia to do medicine. To me, this was a great achievement and I used to look up to this family while I walked on my way to Jagir Singh’s house. Let me tell you how special Sharimi Singh was to me. This is during my childhood when one night my mother had such severe stomach ache that she couldn’t bear anymore. It was after midnight and in those days, we did not keep painkillers or Panadol like we do today. So, my father set out to Sharimi Singh’s house and knocked on his door. Sharimi Singh was awakened and walked back with my father to our house at Northam Road. He checked my mother, gave her something to calm her down and ordered her to visit the government clinic at Macalister Road later in the morning. When my mother and I visited the clinic, Mr Sharimi Singh attended to her and prescribed medicines to ease her pain. He was warm and discussed with my mother on her pain and this sweet memory is still with me. For me, going on a house call without taking any fees from the patient is rare but people in that era were like that. Money didn’t matter, the desire to help others was more important. Today as I pass by this house which is situated just next to The Ship, I remember the times when I would stop and have small talk with Harbans Aunty and their youngest daughter Dolly as they sat on their swing in their porch. Dolly and his eldest daughter Jaggi are also successful ladies  and have made Kuala Lumpur their home. The Sri Bahari house is still there with the mango tree, Ranjit the  youngest son lives there with his family.  Sharimi Singh left for heavenly abode years ago followed by his wife. Those days, I was shy and always had this inferior feeling as I was just a caretaker’s daughter and these people were highly educated and had lots of money. This feeling has long been erased as I realise now that we are here on a short vacation and will head back home in time to come.

 

            There were others who lived on Sri Bahari Road. To name a few people who I know, Tamaravi, Ah Hong, Aunty Mary, Patimutu, Suresh family and Rani who were Jagir’s neighbours. Above Jagir Singh’s unit was a Pakistani family Fakir, Kalsom, Bashir and Anuar.  I was friends with this family and until today still keep in touch with them. Fakir just passed on last year, may his soul rest in peace but his family consisting of his wife and son has grown bigger with four grandchildren. There was another family next to Ah Hong’s house who was the tailor and these people were tip top, looked rich with their cosy house. I remember the couple had a son and a daughter and they were always entertaining guests at their house. Another incident I still remember is a boy’s father opposite Uncle Sharimi’s house who had gone to work at the harbour boat and never returned. It was suspected that he had fallen into the sea but his body was never found.

 

            It may be just a road for some but the memories on this road are really special to me. The row of houses had a lane in front where pedestrians could walk and there was a drain which separated this lane from the main road. During Thaipusam, the chariot on its return journey would pass by this road during the wee hours of the morning and we would stand at the lane and admire the beautiful lights of the chariot. On other times, the sound of the band accompanying a hearse would make us run out to see the Chinese mourning family with guny sacks on their heads and wearing black walking behind the hearse with the band playing the sad Au Lang Syne. Later we would find Chinese joss paper strewn all over the road and Masi Charno would warn us not to step on these papers.

 

            The people who lived on Sri Bahari Road have either moved away elsewhere or are gone from this world. Today, these houses have been converted to modern restaurants serving all types of cuisine for the tourists who throng Penang. As long as I live, Sri Bahari Road will have a special place in my heart. It may be jammed with parked vehicles on both sides as customers patronize the restaurants but the architecture of these houses is unique. Some houses may have been bought over by the new owners but some houses are still owned by the Kunj Bihari temple on Penang Road. This place takes you back to the colonial times and a memory that the British and Japanese were here at one time.  

              I have included Singh’s photo but I do not have Uncle Sharimi Singh’s photo and apologise that I could not include his photo too.