Having almost completely forgotten about their existence for the better part of a decade, I’ve recently started listening to The Naked and Famous again. To misquote the Auckland band’s 2010 hit ‘Young Blood’:
“Though I am young and naïve still, I’ve acquired certain skills…”
Taking into consideration that I am turning 40 at the end of the month, there are plenty of people out there who would argue that I’m really not that young anymore. Moreover, some might even feel compelled to point out that – judging by conventional standards – I have achieved very little over the course of my lifetime.
I haven’t built anything that remotely resembles a career. I don’t own a property, nor do I drive around in an ostentatious vehicle. Truth is, I don’t even have a driver’s licence to begin with. I’ve never been married, haven’t started a family; heck, it’s been 12 years since I was last committed to what is commonly considered to be a serious relationship. In a world obsessed with obtaining tangible results and collecting objects, I have practically nothing to show for my existence.
Nevertheless, I have picked up some valuable skills along the way. I have supported the two people that brought me into this world through the plight of terminal illness and watched them take their final breaths. I’ve endured mental and emotional torment at the hands of individuals projecting their own inner demons on me. I’ve been physically bruised, battered, and broken to the point of hospitalisation. Time and time again, I have been taken for granted by those I have loved. And despite all of this, my lust for life has only grown stronger.
In other words, I have acquired the benefits that come with exposure to anguish and the cultivation of thick skin.
A Subang Reunion
While my romantic relationships have always tended to be passionate, fleeting affairs, I am fortunate enough to be blessed with friendships that have withstood the test of time and distance. On the eve of Chinese New Year, I was presented with a reminder of this praiseworthy reality. That Tuesday night, after rejoicing in an exceptional dinner at the home of a close friend, we set out to Farmer’s Bar at Subang Parade to meet up with the rest of the old basketball crew.
The first time I moved to Kuala Lumpur, I was a happy-go-lucky 22-year-old looking to find my own way. A month or two after my arrival, a colleague of mine invited me to a gathering at his place and introduced me to the close friend mentioned above. Taken aback by my height, said friend suggested that I join him and some childhood buddies of his for a pickup game sometime. The following weekend I made my inaugural appearance on the public court in SS18.
Over the next two years, the basketball crew would become the core of my social network. They were there to pick me up after my first true heartbreak, made me feel secure after I’d become the victim of a gang initiation ritual on Changkat Bukit Bintang; they encouraged me to return home when my father’s cancer relapsed. And they were there to welcome me with open arms when I moved back to KL some four years later.
During that repeat spell, professional obligations prevented me from seeing as much of the crew as I would have liked. After leaving the city for the second time, we did a poor job of staying in touch. Prior to our reunion at Farmer’s Bar, I hadn’t communicated with some of the guys in nine years.
PaperKite Pale Ale
My friend and I were the first to arrive that night. After taking a moment to marvel at the impressive selection of imported craft beers on display in the Farmer’s Bar fridges, we turned our attention to the dozen brews on tap. With the excess of home-cooked goodness still weighing heavily on our tummies, it only made sense to opt for something light and sessionable. Of the selection on offer that night, the one best suited to our mood and requirements was a pale ale produced by local craft beer brewer PaperKite.
The PaperKite Pale Ale is a refreshing, mildly floral beer with an ABV of 4.5% that is ideal for the steamy climate of the muddy estuary. In line with the brewery’s policy, it is prepared solely with natural ingredients and does not contain any artificial preservatives. Purposely tailored to please the taste buds of the general drinking population rather than those of craft beer enthusiasts in particular, this no-frills brew is suitable for any given occasion. Its aroma is inviting, its mouthfeel moderately crispy with a clean, resiny hop aftertaste. As I contentedly sipped away, I surmised that this is the type of brew that would still taste good even if it were not properly chilled.
A steady flow of familiar faces took place at the table and, before I knew it, I was several PaperKite Pale Ales in and had reverted to the slang of the suburbs. There was much to be discussed – nine years is a long time, after all. Recent developments were shared, memories of yesteryear revived. Bouts of laughter were interchanged with nods of silent, sincere sympathy. I am not the only one to have acquired thick skin.
The rounds of PaperKite Pale Ale kept on coming.
An All-Malaysian Affair
PaperKite was launched in 2022 for the benefit of thirsty Malaysians craving something other than the mainstream lagers that have dominated the local beer market for almost a century. The mastermind behind the endeavour – founder and CEO Alvin Lim – has been devoted to educating local consumers about the merits of craft beer for close to fifteen years, enhancing familiarity as well as accessibility along the way.
Since opening Taps Beer Bar on Changkat Bukit Bintang in 2011, Mr. Lim had seen the demographic of craft beer consumers shift from primarily expat and tourist to increasingly Malaysian. Nevertheless, he could not shake the notion that there was something missing – Malaysia still lacked a craft beer that it could proudly call its own.
Enter PaperKite. Offering a range of four locally brewed beers (comprising an IPA, Copper Ale, and Oatmeal Stout – all 5.4% ABV – in addition to the Pale Ale), the company has positioned itself as a distinctly Malaysian brand catering to the national market. Instead of modelling its branding after overseas breweries, PaperKite prefers to reference elements intertwined with local culture. Furthermore, the entire team − brewers included − is Malaysian.
The brewery has already started gaining recognition on the international stage by becoming the first Malaysian craft brewery to win a medal at the annual World Beer Awards in 2023. At the 2024 edition, the PaperKite Oatmeal Stout was awarded a gold medal in the Stout and Porter category. Its other three signature styles, including the Pale Ale, all won silver in their respective categories.
Soaring High
Now that the folks at PaperKite have proven Malaysians are capable of brewing world-class beers, the sky is the limit. Then again, a long list of challenges remains. One specifically tricky factor is pricing. Balancing the cost of quality ingredients with aspirations of keeping its brews affordable for as many local consumers as possible is far from straightforward.
Competing with mainstream beers such as Tiger, Carlsberg, and Heineken is impossible seeing as these breweries have the capacity to produce up to 90 times the volume that PaperKite does. On the other hand, PaperKite cannot match the often-exorbitant prices at which imported craft beers are sold as it would deny most Malaysians the opportunity to enjoy the brewery’s range without becoming insolvent. Hence, the only viable solution is to stay somewhere in between.
While practical considerations cannot be eschewed, one must never lose sight of the bigger picture. From day one, PaperKite’s goal has been about shifting local mindsets towards craft beer. By tirelessly educating consumers on why they might want to pay a bit more for a superior product in terms of taste and quality, the craft beer movement in Malaysia continues to grow. The higher the demand, the higher the likelihood that affordability will be guaranteed.
Whatever happens, I will be rooting for PaperKite and doing my part to help spread the gospel. I am sure that the rest of the basketball crew will do the same.
Young Blood, Greying Beard
There is, of course, but one confirmed guarantee in this life – we’re all headed for the same destination, some of us just get there faster than others. Some are privileged enough to choose their own lane, others are thrust upon a rocky road at birth; some stick to the path of least resistance, others will quite willingly take detours. Then there are those who go around in circles, unable to break generational patterns and cycles. The vast majority of us, however, are likely to experience all of the above over the course of our lives. Personally, mere weeks before my 40th birthday, I find myself effortlessly gliding through space and time – everything has fallen into place, it all makes sense now.
Instead of working on a career, I found a vocation. Rather than being gifted love, I have been granted independence. In place of a family, I have a crew. Instead of clinging on to people and things that were never mine to keep, I have learned to let go. And if anyone tries to convince me that this is somehow unbefitting of a man my age, they will kindly be advised to go kick rocks − or fly a kite, for that matter.
