A Whisper on the KL Tower Sky Deck

Farhan hated heights. Not just “a little bit nervous” kind of hate. We are talking about the “legs turning into jelly, heart-beat-like-techno-music, cannot-breathe” kind of hate. Even standing on a stool to change a lightbulb made him feel like he was falling off a cliff.

But here he was, standing at the base of the Menara Kuala Lumpur—the KL Tower. It looked like a giant needle stabbing the sky. Farhan looked up and immediately felt a wave of pening (dizziness).

“Wei, Farhan! Faster-lah! The elevator is opening already!” his best friend, Raju, shouted. Raju was the opposite of Farhan. He was like a monkey—always climbing things, no fear, always selamba.

Farhan clutched his backpack straps. “You sure about this, Raju? Maybe we just go Pavilion and eat ais kacang? My treat.”

Raju rolled his eyes. “Aiyo, you promised! Tomorrow you have to give the form to your teacher. You want to go to the Science Stream or the Arts Stream? You’ve been thinking for three weeks until your face looks like a dried prune. My sister said if you want to find an answer, you need a new perspective. And there is no perspective higher than this!”

Farhan sighed. He was thirteen, and in his school, this was the “Big Choice.” His father, a serious engineer, wanted him in Science. “Stable future, Farhan,” his dad would say. But Farhan loved drawing. He loved sketching the pak cik selling satay at the corner, the way the rain looked hitting the puddles in Bukit Bintang, and the colorful chaos of the night market.

He stepped into the elevator. Ding.

As the lift shot upward, Farhan felt his stomach stay behind at the ground floor. He stared at the floor numbers rising. 20… 40… 60… His ears popped.

“Relax-lah, bro,” Raju said, seeing Farhan’s knuckles turning white. “Just don’t look down. Look at the horizon.”

When the doors opened at the Sky Deck, the humid KL air hit them, but it felt cooler up here. Farhan stepped out and immediately froze. The Sky Deck was open-air. There was a glass railing, but it felt like nothing was between him and a 300-meter drop to the hard pavement of Jalan P. Ramlee.

“I cannot do this,” Farhan whispered, his voice trembling. “I’m going back down.”

“Wait!” Raju grabbed his arm. “Look there. The Sky Box.”

Farhan looked. There was a glass cube sticking out from the side of the tower. People were standing on a glass floor, looking straight down. Farhan felt like he was going to faint. “Never. No way. Not even if you give me a million ringgit.”

Raju laughed. “Okay, okay. We don’t go in the box. But just walk to the edge of the deck. Look at the city.”

Farhan took tiny, baby steps. Shuffle. Shuffle. Shuffle. He reached the railing and gripped the metal bar so hard it hurt. He closed his eyes.

“Open them, Farhan,” Raju said softly. “Look at our home.”

Farhan opened one eye, then the other.

Kuala Lumpur was spread out like a giant, colorful Lego set. He saw the Petronas Twin Towers glowing like silver jewels nearby. He saw the tiny colorful dots of cars moving like ants on the Duke Highway. He saw the green patches of the forest reserve right at the foot of the tower, and the old pre-war shop houses nestled between the giant skyscrapers.

It was beautiful. It was messy. It was KL.

Suddenly, a gust of wind blew, making Farhan’s hair messy. He felt a strange sensation. For the first time, he didn’t feel like he was falling. He felt like he was… floating.

He looked down at his hands. They were shaky, but they were the hands of an artist. He realized that from up here, you couldn’t see the “Science” or the “Arts” of the city separately. The city was a masterpiece because of both. The engineers built the towers, but the soul of the city—the colors, the food, the life—that was the art.

An old pak cik, working as a security guard nearby, noticed Farhan’s terrified face. He walked over, smiling. “First time, boy? Jangan takut. The tower is strong. It’s been standing since before you were born.”

Farhan nodded. “I’m just… trying to make a big decision, Pak Cik.”

The Pak Cik looked out at the view. “You know, from down there, the streets are loud and confusing. You only see what’s right in front of your nose. But up here? You see where all the roads lead. Don’t choose the road that looks easiest. Choose the road that makes you want to see what’s around the next corner.”

The Pak Cik patted his shoulder and walked away.

Farhan looked at the Twin Towers again. He imagined sketching them—not just the lines, but the feeling of the wind up here. He realized his fear of heights was just like his fear of the future. He was scared of falling, of making a mistake, of disappointing his dad.

But looking at the vastness of the world, he realized that even if he “fell” or made a mistake, there was a whole world of paths to take. The “Science Stream” wasn’t a cage, and the “Arts Stream” wasn’t a cliff. They were just different ways to see the same city.

“Raju,” Farhan said, his voice finally steady.

“Yeah?”

“I’m going into the Sky Box.”

Raju’s jaw dropped. “What? You sure? You were just crying two minutes ago.”

Farhan didn’t answer. He walked toward the glass box. His heart was still drumming, but his mind was clear. He stepped onto the glass. Below his feet… nothingness. Just air and the tiny trees far, far below.

He gasped, but he didn’t pull back. He looked at his reflection in the glass, then at the horizon where the sun was starting to set, turning the sky a beautiful teh tarik orange.

He knew what he had to do. He would take the Science Stream to make his father proud and learn how things worked—but he would never stop drawing. He would be the artist who understood the science of the world. He would bridge the two, just like this tower bridged the ground and the sky.

“I’m okay,” Farhan whispered to the wind. “I’m not scared anymore.”

As they took the lift back down, Raju was still talking non-stop about how brave Farhan was. Farhan just smiled. He felt taller. Not because he was on top of a tower, but because he had finally looked his fear in the eye and found his answer.

The “Big Choice” wasn’t so big when you realized the world was even bigger.