PETALING JAYA: Dataran Merdeka holds a special place in Malaysia's history. It was here, on Aug 31, 1957, that the Union Jack flag was lowered and the Malayan flag raised for the first time, marking a new beginning for the nation.
Today, the sight of the Jalur Gemilang billowing gracefully against the blue sky is truly striking. The flagpole itself was reputed to be the tallest in the world at the time of its completion.
Dataran Merdeka was previously known as the Selangor Club Padang, or simply the "Padang". The green field at Dataran Merdeka remains a serene sight amidst the hustle and bustle of Kuala Lumpur.
But what if you discovered that the field was under threat? How far would you go to save it?
In the 1980s, two friends - Hamin Derus, better known as Alang, and Victor Chin - stepped up like grassroots superheroes when they learnt about plans to cover Dataran Merdeka's field with concrete.
"Chin said to me, 'Look, we've got to do something to save the field'," said Alang in a Zoom interview from New Zealand, where he now lives.
Chin had always been passionate about the conservation of heritage buildings, and he had devoted his life to heritage and cultural activism. He was also a filmmaker, writer, and painter of local architecture.
"We shared common interests in many things like art, politics, and life in general," added Alang, 78.
Naturally, Alang agreed. The idea of saving the field, he explained, was more of a metaphor - they knew they couldn't stop the plan of covering the grass with concrete. "What we could do was go out there and try to save as much grass as we could carry."
So, one Sunday morning, the duo headed to the field with two friends as witnesses and two wooden boxes that Chin had constructed for the mission. They had invited the press, and journalists actually showed up.
"When we got there, we asked the labourers who were digging up the grass if we could take some. They told us we could take as much as we liked."
By then, Alang recalled, the labourers had dug up half the field. So, he and Chin got to work, filled their boxes with grass, and left.
The following day, they found themselves in the news - with the nickname "Padang romantics".
"I think I know what they were trying to say. They thought we were nostalgic, trying to save the field. But it was not nostalgia."
Speaking about Chin's passion for heritage and cultural activism, Alang explained: "He was serious about trying to say that progress is not just about building more and more new things. It also means preservation."
Some of the journalists had sought comments from then Prime Minister Dr Mahathir Mohamad. "I think he said, 'We are going to charge them for stealing public property.'"
At that time, Alang had been running Rogues Gallery, a bar in Petaling Jaya frequented by young lawyers. "They said, 'Don't worry, Alang, we'll defend you for free'," he recalled.
Just imagine: Malaysia's first-ever court case for "kidnapping" grass - "lawn and order" must be upheld, indeed!
In the end, no charge was made. So, what did the duo do with their grassy haul? They planted it in their gardens, of course!
For a while, one patch lived on in a flowerpot in Alang's bar, complete with a small handmade cricket bat and wicket to symbolise the many matches played on the padang once upon a time.
Alang eventually moved to New Zealand, and Chin passed away in 2022. Years later, on a trip back to Malaysia, Alang passed by Dataran Merdeka.
"I think they only concreted one end, where the fountain is, and not the entire field," he said.
Did they have anything to do with that? Alang isn't sure. But one thing is certain: on that Sunday morning in the 1980s, two friends did save the field - in their own unique way.