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| Tuesday, August 22, 2006 |
| Memoirs of a Shahian. |
It was after recess, where all students were bloated and sleepy from the sugar rush, thanks to the school canteen. The day was really hot, as the surrounding was blindly illuminated. Next class was the Bahasa Melayu class where the school's diciplinary general was the teacher. Mr. Nasir was notoriously known for his 'Japanese bitch-slap'. He was so big, he looks like a freaking giant among us. He can easily snap your head out of your puny body with one hand, that's how I remembered how big his hand was. Once, he slapped my senior (from what I heard, he's passed away now) so hard, he was deaf in one ear. After that incident he had slowed down his bitch slapping activity.
He came in with some 30 something Bahasa work books. As usual, as a monitor I signalled the class to greet the man. Right after that, he told us to not to sit down, somewhat in an angry manner. We were told that one book was missing, and the last class that use the book was ours. The work book was actually brought using our classmates' pocket money, and we stupidly decided that we should donate the book to the school, so everybody can use it. Anyway, back to the lost book plot. The class monitor assistant, a petite Zariyah was called upon since she was the one who re-collected the books and send them to his desk like a slave. Clearly she had no idea, which infuriated more the satan-possesed Mr. Nasir. Zariyah was called stupid, and I kinda see she become smaller and smaller. Of course we were all scared.
Then he called the whole boys to make a row of line infront of the class. Oh, how we all know what we'll be getting. Then the beast start slapping us one by one, a situation which I felt better than being slapped alone. A mad rush of blood to the head. My head felt a little light, and my cheek felt somewhat warm. From the corner of my eyes, I saw some girls were crying witnessing their heroes classmates perished by the hand of the juggernaut. We took our seat and the whole surrounding sank in a deafening silence. He walked out with no one saying anything to him.
The next class was the Modern Mathematic class, where our soft-spoken kelantanese Miss. Ramlah was teaching. It was clear that everyone in the class was in no mood for learning, as we all were uncharacteristically quiet. Something wierd happened. Suddenly, a gust of guilt ridden feeling attacking me, since I'm the head of the class and I wasn't able to defend my comrades. I felt really sad, and in no time my eyes were drowning in a dam of tears. It took me all my might to hold back those tears, but the guilt that was fed to me made me unable to hold it anymore. I tried to be discreet, and the only one who saw me crying was Miss Ramlah. She somewhat get along with it, and acting like nothing happened. My tears was peculiarly flooding endlessly its like I pee through my eyes. Yeah, I know, GROSS!
The class turned cold towards Mr. Nasir the day onwards, but as time passed by we gradually warm up to him back. And a week later, Miss Ramlah asking the if the class is ok since she had a dream that she saw one of my classmate crying at a pole. Izzit me? Damn!
So, this 26/8 is the reunion of my schoolmates. I think I won't join them. My heart is heavy. |
posted at 12:10 PM   |
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“Count your smiles instead of your tears; Count your courage instead of your fears.”
~ Unknown
“I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”
~ Maya Angelou
“The secret of Happiness is Freedom, and the secret of Freedom, Courage.”
~ Thucydides
“Everything becomes a little bit different as soon as it is spoken out loud”
~ Hermann Hesse
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