Unexpected Visit

Last Sunday, I visited an old friend. Not under the circumstances one would have liked. I meet him at the Singapore General Hospital. He is Balu, one of my few friends who I have known since I was in primary school. We were together in the same Tamil class for 6 years.

The boys in that Tamil Class played soccer and had fun together. I still remember the good old days when we used to make paper balls for soccer. We also used ping pong balls to play soccer. But the one sport we guys thrived in was Chaptey. We literally wrote all the rules for the game. It was not an ordinary game of Chaptey, we played with the heaviest and most awesome looking Chaptey Woodlands has ever since. We played dogdeball Chaptey.

But the fun we had ended when we got our PSLE results. All my Tamil friends went to express expect for Mathi, Bala, Shawn and yours truly. I still remember the disappointment I had when I realized that I couldn’t go to the Express stream.

That feeling of being left behind and the notion that you weren’t good enough to go to express made such a strong impression on me that actually thought of suicide. At such a young age I was devastated and I truly believed god had let me down despite my blind faith in him.

I had to pick myself up and continue with my secondary school education. Balu who went to express was in the same school as Mathi, Bala and Me. Mathi and I were in Normal Academic and Bala went to Normal Technical. Mathi and I were already best of friends by then. And thank god he was in my Tamil class, for without his aid I would have never passed my Tamil.

It was in Woodlands Secondary that my life changed and I met many wonderful friends. Slowly I learned that being in Normal Academic had its benefits. I was able to excel in all subjects expect in Tamil. And my friends were not back stabbers, they were genuine friends.

Soon O-levels results came, Balu left. Mathi and I had to endure one whole year before we could have our chance. Things changed that year, everyone went their separate ways, and old friends become old memories. Maybe I am partly to blame; I never took the initiative to contact them. I always thought why should I bother them. After all it was not like I was the star of that Tamil class. I was just a face in the crowd. Nobody missed me.

During my years in poly I had little contact with my Tamil friends say for one exception, Mathi. Mathi has been and always will be a brother to me. He was the only one who knew me. When I meant he knew me, I mean it literally. He was the only person who knew my worst moments. He saw the amount of humiliation and scolding I gotten from various tamil teachers including the legendary Mrs. Mano. And though in some way these were meant to help me, it never did. I am still mystified on why I could never master my own mother tongue.

Back to Sunday’s visit. Mathi was the one who told me the news that Balu was in hospital. I made arrangements with Mathi and met him and Dinesh, another good friend from Woodlands Sec. We went down the SGH and saw Balu. I was glad I saw him. It has been months since I saw him. He told us that he had his appendix removed. I told him to be strong and wished him a speedy recovery. I didn't stay long, I didn't want to.

On the way back, I passed the stuff I bought for Balu to his mother. I was a bit surprised she actually recognized me. It has been many years since I saw her and it surprised me more that she had called me by my name.

My day ended with a chat with Mathi and Dinesh. We caught up on old times and I also learned some disturbing news about Balu. Though as a friend, I am sadden to hear this especially from Mathi, I can only hope he knows what he is doing with his life.

After all, who am I to judge the colour of your hair?

So till my next post ya, its bye from Ganz.

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