Better late than never

           I spent two or rather one and a half years in Anderson School in Ipoh attending Sixth Form. It was not a long time but I had wonderful memories; studies and activities there.

            The short period provided me much experience and the opportunity to explore Ipoh; the short cuts and the different locations to famous food and shops. It was not because I wanted to taste the food but to know where the stalls were located.

            Monday mornings were miserable as many would agree with the feeling of ‘Monday morning blues’. Each Monday morning there would be the usual assembly with the same speeches, announcements and the advice biven by the principal and other teachers. Mr. Lam Kok Hon was then the principal of the school.

            For your information, I had to leave my house at 6.00 am and cycle to the bus station in Batu Gajah. Then I would have to take a bus to Ipoh.  There were two buses provided by the bus company and they were always packed like sardines in cans. The bus usually left at 6.30 am or even later. I would then reach Ipoh at 7.00 am at the earliest. Finally I had to board another bus (either one that goes to Ipoh Garden or Fair Park or even Greentown) to reach school. That would take another 20 minutes or more; if we were lucky because the buses were always packed with students and workers. So we were usually late or just in time for classes or before the first bell. The assembly was held at 7.30 so we were either just in time or late.

            It was indeed exhausting getting up at 5.30 am and arriving home again at 2.30 pm or even 3.00 pm.

            To avoid attending the assembly my friends and I stayed at the waiting area of the General Hospital in Ipoh. For your information, the hospital is opposite the school and a stone’s throw across the road.

            The friends included those from Batu Gajah and Gopeng. All of us agreed that the assembly was a waste of time. So we chose the idea to stay there until the assembly was over. There were Yee Kee Mun, Ho Chee Weng, Ng Moo Chee (all from Gopeng), Chan Yit Meng and I (from Batu Gajah).

            The other reason was that by the time we arrived at the school gate, the assembly would have started and we had to wait there until it was over to join the classes. The prefects at the gate knew that we were always late or rather just in time for the assembly. So we chose to stay away from the assembly every Monday.

CURIOSITY AND ITS EFFECT

Curiosity is an inborn or innate attitude. We are curious about things we do not have or see. We want to know about others, their belongings, actions, happenings or a simple secret.

            One such incident still lingers in my mind and the name still rings in my head. The name is Hew Mun Seong. This incident involving this name happened in Standard 2.

            We were in the afternoon session with the standard 3 and 4. only the Standard 1, 5 and 6 were in the morning. At midday, we had to line up along the wooden corridor to wait for the morning classes to vacate. Only then we entered the class with the permission of the class teacher.

            As were lining up I saw at a glimpse, the above mentioned boy acting suspiciously in front of his school bag. He was in the process of placing or concealing something. Curiosity got the better of me. It was an act of impulse or a sudden miscalculated action. I wanted to know what the mysterious object was.

            I remembered asking him to allow me to have a look at the item. He refused and tried to push me away. Another friend called him and he walked away.

            Instantly I went through the contents of his bag and retrieved a bottle. It was just a bottle. This boy was what I was doing and grabbed the bottle and he was rather furious. In the struggle he snatched it and hit me on the head with it. I was stunned and shocked.

            Everyone stopped and stared at me not because of the struggle but at something on my head. Some shouted and others kept silent probably due to the shocking scene.

            I felt something warm and it was trickling down my head. I touched my ears and noticed that my finger was red. Only then I knew that I was bleeding. I did not feel any pain but a slight sensation. Furthermore I did not panic and neither did I scream. I was speechless.

            By then the class teacher had arrived. He took me into the class and asked me to sit on a chair. In those days there was a first aid kit in every class. Mr. Perumal, my class teacher took a piece of cotton bud and pressed in on the spot or wound. He took it away and said that it was only a scar or slight cut and it was serious. If it had been serious, I would have to go to the hospital and there would be stitches.

            Anyway the bleeding stopped and he applied some yellow solution onto the cut and then a little plaster finished the job.

            After inquiring from me and my friend, he understood the cause of the incident. Bothe of us got warning so that a similar incident would not resurface. I was lectured on the importance of privacy and the need to ask for permission if I wanted to see or borrow something. If the owner refused I would have to stop pursuing the matter.

            On the other hand, Hew Mun Seong was reminded not to use physical violence or action on friends but to report to the teacher to solve the misunderstanding.

MY MATHEMATICS TEACHER IN FORM 3

His name is Mr. Wong Theam Kat. I still use ‘is’ because I still see him once in a while. He is old but still energetic and he walks with an umbrella accompanied by his daughter at the supermarket in Ipoh.

            The good natured Mr. Wong really impressed and encouraged the class and especially me. I was then in Form 3A and I think everyone like him.

            He taught us Mathematics then. He was a wonderful teacher; being patient, knowledgeable and understanding. He really knew his subject. There was never a moment when he had to refer to the book for an explanation. He had never raised his voice or scolded us. His constant reminder and advice encouraged us. We practically enjoyed every lesson with him and looked forward for the next.

            Logarithm being an unfamiliar topic was made so easy due to his clear explanation. We could use the log tables with ease. His approach was simple yet effective. Even at this moment I can still imagine him advising us to place a ruler across the table and the figures. This was to prevent us from the mistake of looking at the wrong columns and rows.

            We learned to use the compass, set squares, protractor and the ruler that are part and parcel of the tools in the Mathematics Box. With these tools we learned to draw shapes, squares, triangles, rectangles, trapeziums, cones and even pyramids. We also learned to draw parallel lines and angles.

            Mr. Wong would use the same gadgets but they were bigger and were made of wood. To use the compass, he would insert a piece of chalk at the end of the compass. With this he showed us how to draw circles, arcs, angles like 30^o, 60^o, 45^o and so on. We marveled at his expertise and learned to hold all these gadgets properly.

            I can still imagine using the set squares to draw parallel lines, a pair of compass to draw arcs, circles, arcs, angles and division of lines; and measured angles with a protractor.

           

            I am not sure if these skills are still taught in schools. I believe these skills are very useful in life. Thank you Mr. Wong.

Badminton Tournament

There was a courtyard flanked by the four houses where I grew up as a kid. It is still there but not utlilised now. It was a perfect place to spend our free time. There would be games like badminton, football, hop scotch and traditional games like ‘galah panjang’, marbles, two-stick game and of course hide and seek.

The Thomas Cup and the Uber Cup Competitions ignited the interest and spirit in all of us. During the season, we would also play badminton from morning till evening in the courtyard. We also held mini competitions; both singles and doubles. The live matches on TV and the discussions managed to teach us all the rules and regulations regarding the game. We also learned many tactics and even the names of the famous players like Tan Aik Huang, Eddy Choong, Rudy Hartono, and many others.

We played with cheap wooden racquets, poor quality shuttlecocks, and bare footed on the so called courtyard cum badminton court. The court was measured according to the standard dimension but it was perfect for us. We drew lines with sticks and to keep them visible we poured water to keep them wet. After every game we took turns to pour water onto the lines by using a kettle.

As for a net, we used a fishing net strung across the centre of the court and the ends were tied to the walls of the two houses. The height of the net was according to the standard height.

Our racquets were heavy but we enjoyed the games with all our wits and were quite good at the game too. I remember getting three wooden racquets that came with bottles of Chinese wine as gifts. My father had bought them during the Chinese New Year; and the racquets came in very handy.

Our teams made up of boys and girls and we even had mixed doubles. Points were awarded according to the rules and regulations of the game.

The best and most memorable incidences of the game were the instances when I smashed the shuttlecock onto the forehead or chest of the opponents. I had this uncanny ability to send the shuttlecocks at these two points. Of course the opponents could not return these shots. I was rather quick and even feared by the opponents when I smashed.

A shuttle cock cost 40 cents then. It was considered expensive but we chipped in during each session. Each contributed 5 cents and we bought three or four of them. They lasted the whole session. Nobody opposed and we contributed with eagerness. If the shuttlecocks could be used again, we kept them for the next day.

I am glad to have such neighbours and we practically enjoyed our childhood.

Fun Rainy Days Part 1

When there is a shortage of rain, people especially farmers worry and complain because water is essential for the growth of crops. But if there is a lot of rain, farmers worry because of the possibility of floods that may destroy all their crops.

To children rain brings joy and laughter because there are numerous things to do. To me rainy days are wonderful days especially at night. The sound of rain dropping onto the zinc roof provided a calm and soothing effect. It helped me sleep soundly. It was a special symphony to my ears. I practically enjoyed the pitter-patter of rain drops on the zinc roof and on puddles on the floor.

My mind was immediately relaxed and all I wanted was to doze off and hope for beautiful dreams. Rainy days also provided relief from the heat generated by the roof during the daytime. The old house had a zinc roof and the heat created during the day was unbearable. If it rained for a couple of days, it was quite cold though.

Anyway, as I said earlier, rainy days were fun days. While waiting for the rain to stop, my siblings and I folded paper boats out of pages of the old exercise books. We tore the used pages and folded all sorts of paper boats; long sampans, sail boats and tiny yachts. The process provided a chance for us to chat and compete. It also fostered our relationship.

After the rain had subsided, we ran out to the drain beside the house. The water in the drain flowed swiftly and we had the greatest time of our life. We place our boats one by one and watched them sailed with the current. When they sank we were sad but when they sailed upright until they were out of sight we felt proud and happy.

We even had a competition to see if our boats would win the race. A mark was set and we placed our boats together. It was fun to see them race together. Of course some sank due to the uneven current. We jumped with joy if we won the race.

Curiosity and its Effect

Curiosity is an inborn or innate attitude. We are curious about things we do not have or see. We want to know about others, their belongings, actions, happenings or a simple secret.

One such incident still lingers in my mind and the name still rings in my head. The name is Hew Mun Seong. This incident involving this name happened in Standard 2.

We were in the afternoon session with the standard 3 and 4. only the Standard 1, 5 and 6 were in the morning. At midday, we had to line up along the wooden corridor to wait for the morning classes to vacate. Only then we entered the class with the permission of the class teacher.

As were lining up I saw at a glimpse, the above mentioned boy acting suspiciously in front of his school bag. He was in the process of placing or concealing something. Curiosity got the better of me. It was an act of impulse or a sudden miscalculated action. I wanted to know what the mysterious object was.

I remembered asking him to allow me to have a look at the item. He refused and tried to push me away. Another friend called him and he walked away.

Instantly I went through the contents of his bag and retrieved a bottle. It was just a bottle. This boy was what I was doing and grabbed the bottle and he was rather furious. In the struggle he snatched it and hit me on the head with it. I was stunned and shocked.

Everyone stopped and stared at me not because of the struggle but at something on my head. Some shouted and others kept silent probably due to the shocking scene.

I felt something warm and it was trickling down my head. I touched my ears and noticed that my finger was red. Only then I knew that I was bleeding. I did not feel any pain but a slight sensation. Furthermore I did not panic and neither did I scream. I was speechless.

By then the class teacher had arrived. He took me into the class and asked me to sit on a chair. In those days there was a first aid kit in every class. Mr. Perumal, my class teacher took a piece of cotton bud and pressed in on the spot or wound. He took it away and said that it was only a scar or slight cut and it was serious. If it had been serious, I would have to go to the hospital and there would be stitches.

Anyway the bleeding stopped and he applied some yellow solution onto the cut and then a little plaster finished the job.

After inquiring from me and my friend, he understood the cause of the incident. Bothe of us got warning so that a similar incident would not resurface. I was lectured on the importance of privacy and the need to ask for permission if I wanted to see or borrow something. If the owner refused I would have to stop pursuing the matter.

On the other hand, Hew Mun Seong was reminded not to use physical violence or action on friends but to report to the teacher to solve the misunderstanding.

My History Teacher – Mr. Manjit Singh in Form 2

History had been an enjoyable subject since primary school. It was fun listening to the tales, stories, narrations of victories, downfalls and the changes through the centuries. The teachers made the subject so interesting. We listened with awe to the wonderful tales around the world. In addition they added their opinions. That was what made History so interesting.

We knew the story of Emperor Shi Huang Ti, Hitler, Napoleon, Rasputin the mad monk and many great people.

It was only in form 2 that my love for History faded. It was not because of the subject but rather the teacher.

We were in the afternoon session; Form 1 and 2 were in the afternoon due to the congestion; even now. The other forms were and are in the morning. You can imagine the heat and tiredness in the afternoon. Most of us hated the afternoons and especially History class. It was more because of the boring method then.

Mr. Manjit Singh had the usual method of teaching; very predictable. He would enter the class and we would be ready with the textbooks and the exercise books on the desks. If we forgot or slow in doing so, we would be scolded.

When everything was ready, he would then ask us to turn to a certain page. His instructions were: underline what he read and copy those important facts into the notebooks or exercise book. After that we had to read the copied facts quietly. We would be punished otherwise; if we talked or made any nose.

I remembered the eventful afternoon; it was warm and humid, I mean terribly weather. The two rickety fans rattled and turned slowly. As usual we tried to keep awake and we managed to underline the facts, copied them and read the notes quietly.
The sound of the two rickety fans emitted somehow hynotised us and slowly we felt drowsy. Our eyes slowly closed and we started to sway and our heads nodded and we found it hard to concentrate. We wanted to keep our eyes opened but it was terribly difficult.

Suddenly a voise boomed. “Mah Heng Wah, Leong Choy Foong, Visvanathan, Chen Yoon Heng (Me) Balbir Singh, Zainuddin…”

The list went on and we were suddenly wide awake. Mr. Manjit Singh had called out most of our names.

He commanded us; “Come to the front of the class!”
We came out; one by one; from our seats, shocked and not knowing what to expect.
“Line up,” he ordered. “I told you to read but you chose to sleep. So I have to punish you.”
We did not see him come into the class with a cane or any long ruler. We did not know how he was going to punish us. We were guessing and wondering.
“Come here,” he said.

Mah Heng Wah was the first. He stepped in front of him. Heng Wah looked at him nervously. Our teacher help up his knuckle and brought it down on his forehead.

‘Crack’ It was loud, as if he had knocked a lamp post. Heng Wah let out a scream and cried. I bet it was painful. I did not know how he felt as I was lost in fear.

One by one we stepped forward and each of us received a blow on the forehead. I saw some of them supporting themselves by holding onto the desks near them.

My turn came and I was almost in tears before he whack his knuckle on me. The blow came and I reeled and cried out. I was like being hit by a stone. It was a painful one and I let out a scream.
The others got theirs and all of us wept; some openly and some quietly.

“Now sit down and continue your reading. The next time I shall double the punishment.”

We sat down and tried to concentrate. Some of our friends who had escaped smiled and sniggered.

“Don’t laugh. Your turn may come. I’m paying special attention on you,” he warned.

Everyone stopped and the class was silent, as silent as the grave. I bet we could hear the pin drop except for the hypnotizing fans; curse you. The fans must have been laughing at us.