What is it?

Monday, May 12, 2014

What is it?

Assalamu 'Alaikum

What is it?

What is it that I don’t have to introduce myself for you to immediately be my close buddy? It does not matter what age you are, how much older you are than me, and how much older I am than you, we’re instant pals. It does not matter who you are, how long your titles are, how high up in the world you are, your heart melts the minute I touched on a few code word, code jokes and code memories.

It's not as if we came from the same kampung or village, your accent is far different from mine, your taste in food and things may be wildly different from mine, but we sense a camaraderie that can only be felt by lifelong friends.

Yes tears swelled in my eyes when the young boys sang those spirit raising songs to lift their team in the rugby game against us. I could feel the nation building nerves and stuff being built into their souls as they sang those songs. I saw me in them like it was only yesterday, and I remember the feeling when the school football jerseys were distributed in class in readiness for the match in the afternoon. That powerful shirt of black, white, red and yellow injected so much pride in the youthful boy that I was then, it was an indescribable feeling.

Yes it was indeed a path down memory lane. We had less facilities then, and we don’t have that nice eminent school shirts to wear just as supporters. As the family usually drive past Prep School at other occasions 8 year old Zahir will say here we go again Papa will tell him where he will be living if he joins Papa’s school. Last weekend  Zahir was bought. His first touch of a rugby ball thrilled him so much and the overall atmosphere won him over, he is now determined to go to Daddy’s school. But the biggest surprise was Mama. From a staunchly reluctant admirer of the School Mama thoroughly enjoyed herself at the Old Boys gathering and concert and seems to have made amends with her previous stance. She did not know I was that breed when she married me. I was curious why she disliked the people from that school so much before this. She said when she was on campus in university days they were haughty and kept themselves aloof and apart and did not join the lesser mortals at the university. Aaah was all I could say in apology for my younger tribesmen. Those reading this please take note you are being watched.

Of course when I saw the new school Auditorium I could only remember arwah’s Cikgu Yusuf’s house was exactly the same spot. Cikgu Yusuf was the father of my batchmate Captain Faisal, who as a boy must have felt left out when we were all feeling homesick in those early preppie days. Heck his mum can see through our dormitory window from her house whether her son has had his shower for the day! Aah I recall the bubur kacang and the brittly black and white English league TV matches we used to watch at Faisal’s house on Saturday afternoons. Or was that at Ustaz Nawi’s house. Anyway the porridges at both houses were awesome I recall.

The familiar buildings were still there although peppered by newer ones. But the eternal tree of life, the Big Tree is still there witness to many I'm sure who walked underneath her hallowed shadow. I somehow associate that tree with the annual cross country race where my soul mission in life then was to score the lower points for my house. I could only dream what it’s like to be in the first ten, running not being my forte. I also recall the injustice of being asked to take the early shower during the school rugby trials; my squeaky clean white shirt being the ultimate giveaway. I probably broke some world record on the longest game a player ever went through without ever touching the rugby ball! Heck I was playing wing, I wasn’t supposed to join scrums was I?! I played rugby for the house though, and still recall how one XXXL boy Salleh Lamsin cheated by not wearing a shirt and rubbing his entire body with “minyak kuda” or horse ointment just to evade being tackled.  Now who on earth can tackle him, and in retrospect who on earth would want to?! Yuck!

I still recall the taste of the fried chicken with chillies on top ; even the fried mackerel and kembong was at that young age, nice. We learnt the natural partner for bubur kacang was cream crackers. And that some boys called soy sauce toyu. And the definition of heaven then, is of course, ice cream at the high table.

Yes MCKK you still tug our hearts, and thank you for the Old Boys Weekend for allowing us to pretend we are back home once again.

Zahid

Class of 72 Sulaiman House

And taking a cue from Brother Anand the current Old Boy headmaster of MCKK, I have one announcement to make – Please be there at the FreemarketMCOBA event at the MCOBA building Car Park this Sunday 18^th May 9-11am. Mr Prez will be taking attendances J