> the past that shapes the present
/i whip myself like a petulant child with an imaginery rotan/cane. remembering the weathered and worn cane of old, when my father used to chase me around the house with (i always lost, as i had shorter legs then) back in old "Nan-Tah" (formerly known as Nanyang University of Singapore, the current site of NTU) where i had spent my formative childhood years between 0 to 8+ years old.
i was a blardy spoilt child even then. the family was pretty well-off, dad's business was booming and i even had a maid to myself! she was young (18/19?), very pretty and sweet. i called her "Ah1 Zhu1 Jie4" and she doted on me. but of coz i was the lil-tyrant that treated her badly lah (i can't remember a single moment of alla my tyranny, i insist! tis from the mouth of me mum and dad's) and one fine late afternoon i went too far ... she was trying to make me eat (and i stubbornly didn't want to) and i basically screamed at her to go back to her kampong yaddayaddayadda ... with which she sobbed terribly and upon my father's return? WAHRAOEH = "Zhui1 Sha1"! (seek + massacre)
the route of escape was easy. i just had to run pass the living room, pass the corridor to the kitchen and out the backdoor which led to an open garden outside. simple. but it was not meant to be ... as fast as my wittle feets could carry me (remember "short legs"? and i think i was 7? 8? ish?) i dashed forth with my father behind; whom by then was brandishing the "terror-rotan" and made my way to the kitchen post haste. i nearly made it. nearly. the backdoor was latched and i didnt have time to undo it. and at that splitsecond moment (THIS i remember VERY well), as i turned around with the door to my back, it seemed like an eternal slow-mo-chinese-kungfu-serial-moment ... i closed my eyes and froze. the next thing i remembered were the horrid sounds of multiple swooshing-rotans (anybody remember that sound?) and my cries for forgiveness ... subsequently, my dad ripped-off the linoleum-flooring in the living room and drew a chalk-circle on the bare concrete floor and made me kneel in it. DRAMA SIAH! my maid's and mum's pleads for leniency fell on deaf ears. dad was huffing and puffing (where do you think i got my anger from eh? heh :p) and nothing was goinna be able to pacify him. until i said "sorry" and that i meant it. (i was a stubborn and prideful child then). all this too, i remember very vividly (tho fondly now :p).
i remembered begging dad to let me go pee-pee (scared shittless and hadda go BAAAAAD) and he left towards the kitchen. he came back with a green plastic mug (those used in army BMT and when in primary schools during the 70's = for brushing teeth!) and chucked it to into the chalkcircle, next to my knees. i sobbed like no tomorrow sial! but NO, cannot cry! BOYS CANNOT CRY! so i *sucked-sobbed* (as for what that means; if ever i meet any of you in person, i will demonstrate, okie? :p) until i wore myself out. i had stopped crying and dad relented as i apologized to my "Ah Zhu Jie" (years later, she named her first born after me ~ *smile*) sincerely and let me go pee-pee. i didn't run to the toilet. i walked (waddled, more like) quietly, humbly. i remembered this as well: pride stopped me from peeing into the mug. such a stubborn child, eh?
heh. dunno why i had gone into that long a walk down the past. i just typed whatever came into my memory ... mayhaps itz to subconsciously remind myself of who i was and who i am now. the past that shapes the present. no matter how insignificant it may be, everything has a begining, present and an end. everything is connected some way or another. i never blamed my dad for hooting (whacking) me (well, of coz i did THEN lah!) and mayhaps things along the way of growing-up and shittehappening shapes a person to be the person that stands before the mirror now today (of coz my legs are still short, tho i've grown a considerable tho respectable tummy *pat-pat* :p) ... and maybe when i lapse too deep into my current petulance and childishness, i should remind myself of the "rotan" and do well to remember the exquiste feeling of it (it never leaves you totally) ... and i smile a cheekysmile and i know in my head and heart what i mean ...
time now is 405am and i've been wallowing and sweating in my jeans which i've worn since i came back home (from a lovely lunch i might add xxx ;p) at 4pm the afternoon prior and i've yet to take my shower! (sorry y'all, i JUST hadda share dat wif ya! *blergh*) - i think i should take a rotan to my chubby-butts! HAH!
im gone. heh
i was a blardy spoilt child even then. the family was pretty well-off, dad's business was booming and i even had a maid to myself! she was young (18/19?), very pretty and sweet. i called her "Ah1 Zhu1 Jie4" and she doted on me. but of coz i was the lil-tyrant that treated her badly lah (i can't remember a single moment of alla my tyranny, i insist! tis from the mouth of me mum and dad's) and one fine late afternoon i went too far ... she was trying to make me eat (and i stubbornly didn't want to) and i basically screamed at her to go back to her kampong yaddayaddayadda ... with which she sobbed terribly and upon my father's return? WAHRAOEH = "Zhui1 Sha1"! (seek + massacre)
the route of escape was easy. i just had to run pass the living room, pass the corridor to the kitchen and out the backdoor which led to an open garden outside. simple. but it was not meant to be ... as fast as my wittle feets could carry me (remember "short legs"? and i think i was 7? 8? ish?) i dashed forth with my father behind; whom by then was brandishing the "terror-rotan" and made my way to the kitchen post haste. i nearly made it. nearly. the backdoor was latched and i didnt have time to undo it. and at that splitsecond moment (THIS i remember VERY well), as i turned around with the door to my back, it seemed like an eternal slow-mo-chinese-kungfu-serial-moment ... i closed my eyes and froze. the next thing i remembered were the horrid sounds of multiple swooshing-rotans (anybody remember that sound?) and my cries for forgiveness ... subsequently, my dad ripped-off the linoleum-flooring in the living room and drew a chalk-circle on the bare concrete floor and made me kneel in it. DRAMA SIAH! my maid's and mum's pleads for leniency fell on deaf ears. dad was huffing and puffing (where do you think i got my anger from eh? heh :p) and nothing was goinna be able to pacify him. until i said "sorry" and that i meant it. (i was a stubborn and prideful child then). all this too, i remember very vividly (tho fondly now :p).
i remembered begging dad to let me go pee-pee (scared shittless and hadda go BAAAAAD) and he left towards the kitchen. he came back with a green plastic mug (those used in army BMT and when in primary schools during the 70's = for brushing teeth!) and chucked it to into the chalkcircle, next to my knees. i sobbed like no tomorrow sial! but NO, cannot cry! BOYS CANNOT CRY! so i *sucked-sobbed* (as for what that means; if ever i meet any of you in person, i will demonstrate, okie? :p) until i wore myself out. i had stopped crying and dad relented as i apologized to my "Ah Zhu Jie" (years later, she named her first born after me ~ *smile*) sincerely and let me go pee-pee. i didn't run to the toilet. i walked (waddled, more like) quietly, humbly. i remembered this as well: pride stopped me from peeing into the mug. such a stubborn child, eh?
heh. dunno why i had gone into that long a walk down the past. i just typed whatever came into my memory ... mayhaps itz to subconsciously remind myself of who i was and who i am now. the past that shapes the present. no matter how insignificant it may be, everything has a begining, present and an end. everything is connected some way or another. i never blamed my dad for hooting (whacking) me (well, of coz i did THEN lah!) and mayhaps things along the way of growing-up and shittehappening shapes a person to be the person that stands before the mirror now today (of coz my legs are still short, tho i've grown a considerable tho respectable tummy *pat-pat* :p) ... and maybe when i lapse too deep into my current petulance and childishness, i should remind myself of the "rotan" and do well to remember the exquiste feeling of it (it never leaves you totally) ... and i smile a cheekysmile and i know in my head and heart what i mean ...
time now is 405am and i've been wallowing and sweating in my jeans which i've worn since i came back home (from a lovely lunch i might add xxx ;p) at 4pm the afternoon prior and i've yet to take my shower! (sorry y'all, i JUST hadda share dat wif ya! *blergh*) - i think i should take a rotan to my chubby-butts! HAH!
im gone. heh
