Of The Life Pattern Encrypted In the Big Book

It was on Sunday morning a couple of days after New Year, decades ago. Sunday in other places is a day to wind down but not in the East Coast of the peninsular.

Together with a girl from the neighborhood, Anie, we tagged along our old folks walking on the bank of the rice field for our first day in school. By the time we reached school, our shoes were substantially wet from the dew on the tips of the grass we ploughed through, kemuncup stuck on socks. Mud splattered here and there.

Kindergarten was a strange word, none in the area. I only knew such thing as kindergarten when I was bigger. To be put straight into primary one, I didn’t know what to expect nor had slightest idea on what they actually doing in school. There we were, crammed up into a classroom of more than 40 pupils, seated in the front row, amazed with the big yellow ruler rested below the blackboard, startled seeing the feather duster hanging on the wall behind teacher’s desk.

I met many new friends. All sort of friends including the ones who stick out their tongues when our eyes locked, those who like to make funny faces with eyes crossed, push up the nose tip and snorts and handful of them who would quietly scratch their crotches. Not uncommon to find the ones sporting gooey stuff oozing from the nose. One or two that would cry at slightest provocations. And it was not short of fun.

Learning strikes me as an interesting thing to do. It didn’t take long for me to get hold on my learning after mastering the correct way to hold pencil and to write a letter ‘A’ that can be recognized as an ‘A’. Sometimes ‘S’ faced backward, ‘N’ suffered the same fate and “W” with extra zigzag. Agitated but determined, I dropped a tear of disappointment in my attempts to twist the tail of ‘g’ but it didn’t work, exhausted the eraser. A tear dropped right on ‘g’. Rough if not clumsy application with the eraser on the watery spot, it punched a hole in my exercise book. And more tears dropped.

Not long after, I discerned such thing called exams too and to everyone’s surprise, I was numbered first in class. I was oblivious. In any other exams, in any terms, I was then always top in class. Anie happened to be behind me all the time if not trailed by two steps. Me smart kid? Nope! I look at it in different way. It was just God’s way of offsetting me on being inopportune and sad kid as an orphan for a feeling of self worthiness. I did nothing. God set it up for me. So then, being top in class had turned out to be impermeable throughout the primary years.

There were times when medical team from district health center made visits on us for health checks or vaccinations or dentistry. It was seemingly so scary. Blood shoots to the head upon seeing the white Land Rover with the Red Cross on it (mind you, those days cross was used before it was changed to crescent) entering school compound, anticipating something horrible were about to happen.

It was this particular girl, a play mate long before schooling, the one that came walking with me on the first day of school, Anie that was. She suffered the worst “panic attack” among us. I don’t know what came into her mind when it comes to doctors or dentists things. Freaked out, at one time she was nowhere to be found. She sneaked out of the school; hide in the dried rice field with crops taller than her for some considerable amount of time before she decided to head home. It worried everyone including our gardener cum care taker, Pak Mail (Pok Well). It only came to everyone’s relief after Pok Well came back with the news she was behind the door sniffling at home. I took trouble to bring back her funny looking basket used as her schoolbag she left behind, after school.

In one of the medical team’s visits, as expected, it frightened her to death and she cried yet again, much to the hilarity of other pupils – making fun of her. But, I on the other hand, gave her sweets (cakelak anging) I bought from Kedai Tok Ku that morning to pacify her. Hey, she seized the “ordeal” better, except still crying when her name was called. And, her cry could be heard miles away when the needle pierced her skin.

As time went on, my routine was as such, without any clue on what future would’ve hold for me. In the first place, what did I know about the nuance of future? And why would I care? The only thing I knew, I’d walk to school everyday with friends, enjoy my meehoon and air sirap during recess, play some “Denis the Menace” here and “Sinchan” there and look forward for a playtime after school. Since Nintendo and PlayStation were yet to conceptually exist and TV sets were scarce, we had much fun playing hide & seek (nusuk), rope jumping and dekcok. Our daytime seemed too short. Like just minutes before we switched from golek para to dekcok and still halfway to “buat rumah batu”, old folks start calling us home. Darn! The bell rang much too early. It signified the day was called off and the toughest thing to do in the day awaiting – to take a bath.

Playtime, I found it amusing to look back at. Boys and girls played together. We played all sort of games hardly kids these days play. The significant thing that I would later noticed, every time in play, I’d favor to be in Anie’s team. In any disputes among us, I’d take side on her as well. I became very protective over her. Is that the sign of love as a kid and yet I didn’t know how to express it out? Or maybe I was comfortable with myself in her companion? Or perhaps simply due to I knew her much earlier, together with Ariff and Fadhil. God knows, I was just a kid.

Time passed so quickly, one year after another, from one phase of life to another.

Anie, who got terrified seeing people in white robes when she was a little girl, shockingly, fortified with her baccalaureate from a university in UK, later turned out to be much to her daily routine dealing with the bedridden and dying people (she lectures in later part). I have a theory. Perhaps, back then it was too much for her to comprehend the divination foretelling in her third eye; it perplexed, and appalled her upon seeing the fuzz on what she would be dealing in her future. Sounds a bit like a Twilight Zone!

And… the biggest twist of all… She is now my wife. Yeah, right! She’s the mother to my three lovely kids, Fara, Sam and Edrin. Uhuh! You know… the one that I’d be waking up to every morning – with either my arms belted around her tummy or apparent yet pleasant warmth of breath in my chest. It answers why God had created me without a chest like Amitabh Bachaan for if it does, she’d sneeze when her nose dived in it. In turn, I’d never know what I miss.

She specializes in Cardiovascular but never did she administrate any of the routine in her workplace on me – her mere presence in my life is enough for me to enjoy “cardiovascular treats” with every single molecule of air strongly felt every time breathed in and steady and rhythmic pounding of heartbeats that strengthen my heart.

About that vaccination scar on her left upper arm, I was there when it happened – I watched it when it was administered on her. I feel like only yesterday I was looking into her watery innocent eyes when she accepted the sweets from me while she was leaning to the wall outside the classroom facing the open rice field. It is so vivid in my recollection when I was seated just a few feet away, mimicked her crying face the time she had to brave through the jab. Little did I know, sharing of pain and agony started early for us. Least did I realize, I was not only sharing it with my play mate but also with my future soul mate.

Certainly we have a long history.

Not bad for my less-than-5-sen investment with sweets when I was a little boy, huh?

Well… Everything is written up there. We are all the products of heaven. Since we were born in heaven, we intend to have our permanent address up there, as well.

(I know she’ll be blushing reading this from her office)

Today, 17th January, is her birthday… Happy Birthday, Sayang!

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