Feruz Anwar Seth

SETTING ROOTS By Feruz Anwar Seth Just like the Big Tree had its humble beginnings; We all start off as mere seedlings; Through the passing of time, we burst our green shoots; Reaching for the sky; Prep School – where we set our roots; And we learnt to fly … high. I remember arriving at the Prep School more than three decades ago. Despite having devoured books on life at a boarding school as a child – Charles Dickens, Thomas Hughes, E.M. Forster, Enid Blyton et al nothing quite prepared me for the culture shock of dorm life. It’s one thing to be away from my family and having to be independent at 13 but it’s quite another to share all of my time with a hundred-odd other boys. Having come from a family where I was the only boy, my whole life was about to be turned upside down as I had to adjust to sharing not just a dorm but my entire life with a big group of noisy, sweaty, smelly, rowdy strangers. It was nothing short of nightmare!!! In fact, it was the mother of all nightmares as I was thrust into the company of complete and utter strangers, many of whom I had nothing in common. I hated it. Then there were the fixed and rigid routines. The timetable : bangun, mandi, makan, sekolah, sukan, prep and tidur were all things that I had to familiarise myself with. And it didn’t help that I had to do everything on my own. Washing clothes, making beds, polishing shoes … I had to do it all. All the while, living in close proximity with the boys … it was tough. I really missed my alone time. It seemed to me no one respected anyone’s personal space. And worst of all … no telly!!! Actually, it wasn’t just us first formers at the Prep School … we also had some “Abangs” to watch over us … the prefects, to be exact. Truth be told, I initially wasn’t too fond of them. Actually, I had been a prefect myself in Primary School so I had already had my taste of power. Now I was bottom of the pecking order … the plankton, so to speak. Looking back at it, they were oklah. Not as bad as I thought then. They did a lot of teasing. Saja nak kenakan sayalah tu agaknya. I remember the bane of my life … Prefect Bulus … and it didn’t help that we shared the same dhoby number … masa tu, I found him sooooo annoying although, looking back at it, he was actually quite funnylah. Of course, I was always so geram with him. Pelik kan? Here’s to you, Prefect Bulus … wherever you are, you certainly made the biggest impression on me. I think I’ve done pretty well for myself … and hope I done you proud. And, just for the record … loved, loved, loved your choice of music. After a few days, I decided that this is it … I was not staying … so I told everyone that my parents were coming next month to take me away. This went on for some time until one day it dawned on me that no one was coming to rescue me. Oh my, what was I going to do now? So, just like the song, I decided that I was gonna survive. Thrown in the deep end … all alone; Gasping for breath; I can either be a sinking stone; Going down down down the depth; But I decided … I will survive; I will strive; Because I’m a survivor. From then on, I decided that I was gonna make the best of things … and the most surprising thing for me is that I began to find a lot of beauty in the mundane. Experiences which may seem “normal” to outsiders in my describing them but which, having experienced them, made my life as rich and varied as the bowl of ice-kacang, which I used to eat next to the bridge. All this without having to put on any rose-coloured glasses … I decided to wake-up early in the morning – at 5.30 – to ensure that I did not have to queue for the shower. Even if it meant my risking meeting the Green Lady, Japanese Army or whatever supernatural entity that may be stalking the showers or toilets I was willing to do so just to avoid the rush-hour in the mornings. Not to worry though, the dining hall was just next door and the Pakciks were already there. Surprisingly though, nothing happened … well, nothing supernatural anyway. Saturdays was inspection time and the inevitable arranging of underwear by colour co-ordination. Urghhh can you believe we actually pegang pegang other people’s wet underwear to arrange them? I’m amazed that I never caught anything from doing that task. Having said that, the result was amazing … a cornucopia of colours … very much like a rainbow of intimate apparel. Having survived inspection, it was jalan-jalan time and, at the time, there was only the bazaar and the eating shops. The highlight of our outing would be the ice-kacang. As for me, being a music-lover, I would stop at the cassette shop and purchase the RM3.00 kaset. We were not allowed to go to the cinema or the supermarket so the movies at the hall on Saturday night was oh so exciting. I was introduced to treats such as “Un-dressed To Kill” (as we called it) – one of my first experience with the R-ratings. I seem to remember that on Saturday nights good boys went to the usrah and bad boys went to the movies. Guess which one I choose? Actually I also used to dread Saturday nights because it was the night of the inevitable … FIRE-DRILL!!! Yes, I’m sure many of us remember being rudely awakened in the middle of the night by the annoying bell. Then we had to shuffle sleepily to the common-room or outside even for the “fire-drill” (a euphemism for our rag time). Can you imagine … nak tidur pun tak senang!!! I can’t quite remember how long the fire-drill lasted but, at the time, it seemed to last forever. Many memorable feats were accomplished by us on those nights such as the half-squat to challenge the most accomplished Olympians, the blowing (literally) competition of the ceiling fan and of course, the dreaded plastic flower. One night, we even had a popularity contest when everyone was questioned as to their favourite prefect. If I’m not mistaken, Prefect Abdul Aziz Achil won … sorry ek Prefect Bulus. Like my favourite dark chocolate bar, there were also the more bittersweet memories. It took me some time to settle in, to make friends, to fit in. In fact, I don’t know if I ever really fitted in completely. I was always gonna be different … with my own interests, my own ways and my own style. As the song went, I bang my own drum, some think it’s noise, I think it’s pretty. I think a lot of the time, I was about the only one who could see the beauty. I tried to meet them halfway and I think, bit by bit, they grew to accept me. It was the start of many a friendship which has endured till today. To me, one of the most enduring legacy of my year at Prep School was the bonds of friendship which I formed with the most unlikely individuals. In fact, Prep School was where I met a most annoying individual named Tengku Adrian and, I can tell you, it was the start of a rollercoaster of a friendship which spanned more than three decades. As Bette Davis advised, I fastened my seatbelts for the bumpy ride of my life. We were pretty much soulmates, we fought, we made up, we grew apart, we re-united, we laughed we cried … pretty much like the film Beaches (and, of course, I was the lawyer character). As my year at Prep School drew to an end, a number of those noisy, sweaty, smelly, rowdy strangers had became, not just friends, but also like brothers to me. I came to accept their different ways … and I like to think that they accepted mine. For me, they became the brothers I never had and, with some of them, the camaraderie endures till today. Brothers we are; And always remain; We went our separate ways; Though near or far; The memories remain, We’ll always remember those days.