Recently I was going through a box of stuff which I had brought over from Ma's house. As I opened every single dust covered envelope and card, I was transported back about 20 years ago. Every word brought back a different memory, a different stage of my life, someone I knew quite well but not anymore - even moments I thought I never had.
How could I have forgotten these bits and snippets of my life? Every single one of those people and memories made me who I am today.
The boy with the green canvas bag whom I would look at longingly everytime he passes by my class - every Saturday I would listen to his voice as he shouts commands at the cadet team that he was in; it would be the same voice that could recite Quran verses so beautifully as he leads the girls in jemaah prayers during the fasting month.
The lanky Indian boy who would make it his life calling to come over and ask how I did in my English tests because before I came, he was number one and suddenly this girl who just transferred from Sarawak is beating him. He can be annoying as hell and was made fun of constantly by the rempit Malay boys in my class but we became friends eventually and I am sure he is doing well nowadays.
My senior roommates were three girls who were as different as chalk and cheese yet made us feel so welcomed. I had a roommate who cried every single night for at least a month, apparently having never been away from her mother. She is now a teacher, happily married with at least four kids. I don't think she has any separation issues nowadays.
I remember peeking mischievously through the curtain windows at 'baju melayu'-clad boys as they pass by on the way for Friday prayers, - I am now almost 100% sure that the shouts of 'Kantoi skodeng!' was just acts of random, and not because they really saw us doing it.
I must have been a fair senior in the second year of maktab, judging from the amount of cards I got and kept. I had never understood the concept of seniority and how that gave you special privileges and had never practiced it myself. Of course, I was never pretty enough or daring enough to be considered a threat and I basically kept a low profile and concentrated on my studies so I was never called into a senior's room for the purpose of being 'taught a lesson'.
But, I am making a presumption. When we were juniors, we would hear about girl A or girl B being called to see a certain senior allegedly for making eyes at a certain male senior. Occasionally it was because her school sarung was way too short or that she had failed to wear a chemise that her bra was showing. But it was all hearsay - I was never close with girls like A and B and have never cared if what I heard was true but this was what everyone was saying at that time.
At school I was the serious one. I looked at lessons as a way of venting out my feelings, if you could call it that. We moved around a lot and sometimes would end up in less than desirable schools - I don't regret it, as I said, every single experience made me the person I am today - and doing well in lessons gave me options to bring myself out of it. Though I have to admit, learning did not come hard to me - I enjoyed reading and learning so I never found it a chore.
Being in maktab gave me the opportunity to put down roots, it gave me a sense of belonging. I represented college with pride even when we lost in the 2nd round. I had the most wonderful friendship - we shared joy, tears, anxiety and laughter and sorrow. Those two years were among the best times of my life.
So, I went through every card and every small token I was given and smiled as each brought back a different memory. I try to remember every single person who passed by my life and made it what it is now and I wish them well.
No comments:
Post a Comment