Incriminating Memoirs !

“anak si-hamid said...
Yes Mus,
Do write down all your mischief at PPES. Remember that time Jeevan threw a stone at your head and mak had to rush you to the hospital. You were literally stitched up. I guess that knock made you worse than ever.
It's alright to put down all your antics. Shah, Mariam and Hana are all grown up and they can't use it against you
Don't forget your stories of truanting at Pasir Panjang Secondary School.
June 5, 2009 4:41 PM”


The above is my sister’s comment in reply to mine to her posting, “Gaudeamus Igitur – PPES”. Perhaps I will do it after massive censorship. I don’t know why I’m writing this, so anyway sis, this is for you.

1.For starters, Jeevan was a good buddy of mine. We were playing a game which didn’t require the throwing of stones – but he did, and I got it, right on my forehead with a gushing wound, Soon a waterfall of blood covered my face, and people were running around shouting and screaming.

The funniest thing is that I do not remember crying. But I DO remember my sister scolding Geetha, Jeevan’s sister. Anyway soon I was brought home after being given first aid. (The school authorities thought I didn’t need medical attention--@#$#@!@#)
When my father cane home, he was so furious and took me to hospital where it required about 5 stitches. I believe he went to the school and told off the Principal for not sending me for proper medical attention.

2.Like I said Jeevan was a good mate ! He comes from a rich family and his dad was some big shot at the Singapore Port Authority. One Saturday a month, he would invite his class-mates for a tea-party. And we ‘kampung-boys’ would wallop all the goodies served plus the aerated water ( a real treat at that time for us).

However, heres the catch. At the end of it, he would quietly asked his servant to lock the main gate and at the right moment---horrors of horrors----he would release his dog ! A mad scramble followed ! Boys were climbing all over his furniture and running into his family members’ bedroom ! And he would be rolling on the floor laughing..

Of course the dog was actually playing but being young Muslims boys at that time, we were all terrified of just by the thought a dog !

The last I heard –Jeevan is a doctor somewhere in northern India.

2. Before my sister moved on to Secondary school, I couldn’t really show my true colour. So I HAD to behave. But when she continued to secondary school, I was ‘free’. No one to watch over me. I think I was like a wild horse gone berserk ! Even the teachers who knew the Hamid’s kids well told me so !

Anyway we had an Indian male teacher whowm we didn’t like. Mr Kenayan was his name. It was our final year in primary school. Us boys were playing self-made dart at the back of the class. It was my turn to pluck the darts from the soft board and return ed them to the throwers.

Then it came to me of pointing to a spot on the white board and shouted “ ‘kena’ here “ meaning ‘ you got it here’ and slowly changing it to ‘kenayan’ .

So there I was, kept changing positing of my finger and shouting ' "kena" here ' ,"kena" here ' ,"kena" here ' ,"kena" here ' ,

Everybody was laughing and I shouted louder. Then there was silence and all I remembered was, I was whacked very hard on the side of my head. I turned around and ---there was Mr Kenayan with looks enough to kill school boys !

Don’t need to tell what happened after that!

3. Poor Mr Kenayan—after that everybody called him Mr Kenahere—even the other teachers.

One day he was writing on the board and I came up with the idea of using paper pellets, dipped it in ink and using a long ruler to flip it so that it hit the back of Mr Kenayan. Poor man—that day his white shirt was so splattered with ink.

4. In that school, the wall separating the classes did not reach the ceiling. So there was a gap. Often we would use paper missiles to ‘shoot’ the other class. Of course the missiles would be dipped in ink.

5. As mentioned in anaksihamid's posting, we had a very big field. And right at the end of it , the watchman had his tapioca and vegetable garden. I was one of the guilty ones who would pull out the tapioca and had our own ‘small barbecue’, in the gardens of course.

My classmates told me that from the classroom, they could see the young tapioca plants being shaken as we were trying to pull it off the ground. I believe I was caned for this when the watchman made a complaint after trying to advise us with no results.

6. The scool faced a hill slope with trees , bushes and 'lallangs'. Fro the corridor outside the outside the office, the view of this impending hill slope was clear. I was in the afternoon session and my mates and I would come early to have our 'fun' before starting school. One day we decided to climb the hill facing the school.

Then we came across this fruit tree ( can't remember what tree though). Anyway we climbed the tree and were eating the fruits of 'our labour' and laughing away. Of coursewe could see the school, the office and the teachers. It was fun laughing at them - we thought.

Then we heard the bell rang. We saw the students assembling and walking to the classes AND we saw a group of teachers outside the the office pointing at us. Within seconds, the office boy, servant and watchman were at the foot of the tree calling us to come down.

In today's language, we 'kantoi' big time. We were taken to the office and remembered the drill and just waited for the 'rewards'

There were others but those were just normal schoolboys’ pranks. But in Secondary….ahhh that’s different.


7. In secondary school, we started mixing with students from the new ‘housing estates ‘ or flats from areas like Queenstown, Queensway , Tiong Bahru , Redhill and the like. Here, the urban life was introduced to me. The kampong boys had to do a lot of adjustment.

Drainpipes, folded sleeves, greasy hair and cigarettes were the way of life.

We had students from the above housing estates coming to schools with razor blades. They would come to you while you were seated and giving the wrong answers to their questions will gain you a short slash from the razor blade on your thighs.

Anyway I got to know a few Chinese boys from these areas, became good friends and that saved me from the local young wannabe ‘Mafias’. Music was the common ground and we soon formed a band and I became ‘over-involved’ with them that it affected my studies---ahhh but that’s another story.

My first year in Secondary was also the time I had my first girlsfriend. I was so innocent and naïve when it came to to boy-girl relationship. What do you expect from a 13/14 year old school boy !Thats the time also when I realised the weaker gender matures much much sooner than the male species !

I was receiving a letter on my desk every morning. I used to read it and threw it away. But the letter kept coming everyday and it was unsigned. At that time I thought it was not macho to have a girlfriend. Anyway , I finally got to know her and we were “together” for a few months.

Hahahahaahahah such puppy love !

Then , second year of secondary school life ...and my first first Chinese girlfriend which went on for two years . Imagine that !

And I began to enjoy the company of the opposite sex and like I’ve written somewhere:-

“All my books,
Were women’s looks,
And troubles all they’ve brought me “

OK without revealing too much of my evil ways---I ‘d better stop here Nor---until I get more courage to write more on my secondary school life and worst still---my college life.