Wednesday, September 24, 2008

Stories from my childhood

(meanwhile, here's something from my draft box, written quite some time ago,which was not posted as it was rather boring, and i have not started doing what i wanted to, yet)

(photo : Writing, by Ruruw, from deviantART)

I started reading at a very early age. I remembered that I started kindergarten at the age of 3, which now, I realized, was a relatively young age. Simply because, I had working parents. So, I was sent to a babysitter and later to a nursery, and at 3, to a kindergarten. And I took a public bus to kindergarten, something that I was once very proud to announce. Surprisingly, unlike my other siblings, I never refused to go to kindergarten. I wondered whether was it because the attachment I had, was not that strong…

Anyway, like I was saying, I started reading at a very young age. We had to read the series of ‘Peter & Jane’ in kindergarten, and to complete it upon graduation. Every morning, the teacher would make each one of us read, at least a few pages, and for every satisfied reading, she would award us with a star, sometimes even stickers, things which were treasures to little kids. My love for books grew and became more apparent in upper primary school, when I had to switch schools, from Subang Jaya to Seremban. Saying goodbye to friends was not easy.
I did not really like the new environment. I was late to school every morning and refused to do my homework, which later I learnt that children would act the way I did when they are unhappy, unsatisfied or rebellious. Medical school later taught and helped me understood more of me during my childhood.

My friends at primary school labeled me as a ‘bookworm’. And one have to love books so much to be ‘awarded’ such title. I was caught by the teacher, several times in fact, for reading under my desk during class. She must have been in dilemma: should she to punish me for not paying attention in class? Should she punish me for doing something which she encouraged other student to do? She punished me anyway.

They also labeled me as ‘a very quiet person’. I remembered this well as it was described in our elementary school graduation book. Can you imagine, me, being ‘a very quiet person’?

So, I was not much of a people person, when I changed school. My adaptation skill was not that great. Changing school was not something children, in general, cope with easily. And so, I was just being part of that general population. Somehow, I found comfort in books. I completed the whole series of Enid Blyton’s. (Yes, I did!) And when the school library could no longer satisfy me, there was of course, the state library, a new heaven for a 10 year old kid. I loved Shakespeare, which you might think was pretty odd and boring for a primary school kid. Then later, there was the Sweet Valley and Fear Streets Series, which was further encouraged by my reading buddies in high school. We must have been such a bunch of ‘bookworms’ back then, were we?

Like I said, I did not quite like the new environment. I tried searching for my old friends, their addresses in my small, rugged, partially torn, dog-ear-ed, address book. And I tried making new friends, using very few verbal words. And that was when I started writing. And I found comfort in writing.

I write fiction story best. Correction: back then, I only wrote fiction. Partly it was because, that was what required in our English syllabus. Though later I noticed, my stories, the plot I wrote, were very much similar. There had to be someone who falls and love, and someone who died. Somehow, stories like that seemed to pacify my English teacher and earn me that A or star… Thinking back of it now, those stories, were kind of bizarre.

I still remember the story I wrote for my 1119, it was about the rain, and the dark, and the fear, which I was feeling that very time, as I wrote each word down. It took me some time to imagine the plot, before I put them down into words, and I guess, that pacified the examiners too.

And I of course I still remember the infamous ‘rain’ story. How could I forget, when my friend, Suk Teng, constantly reminded me of it. And yes, in that story, someone fell in love, and someone died.

I find it harder to write these days. I cannot remember the last time I wrote something fiction. I guess it all stopped when I stepped in to university. And I grew out of childhood fantasy and dreams. I missed English lessons, I really do. I missed Mrs Lim Swee Boon, who taught us literature. And I missed writing stories, fiction. Perhaps, when one finds time, one shall write again… one shall once again, let the imagination go wild, and the fingers take over the mind.


  1. u can always pen ur mind here. it doesnt need to be all medical. some fictional story would be nice.

    waiting eagerly for the rain story . hehe.


  2. That is one long story about your childhood. I can't remember when i started to read, but definitely not at 3. Maybe at 6

  3. Thought u're from Sarawak? Can't be...cos the name of your English Lit teacher does not ring a bell, unless she's one of the quiet low-profile ones.

  4. >wicrap>> fictional, hmm.... maybe someday...
    the rain story, i no longer have the copy of it... and i do not want to rewrite it.. just want it to be as it is... my friend would surely laugh if she sees it again...

    >borneo falcon>> and that long story is just a tiny part, of childhood..

    1. yes, she was quite low profile. but i think students remember their teachers well.. she taught me how to recite a poem the right way, in the right intonation... and the hidden meanings behind those layers and layers of words..... ah, how beautiful can poetry be..
    2. no, i'm not from sarawak, though i really do hope to visit it someday

  5. hehe.. rest assured you're not the only one who started reading at that age. I started at 3 also! (bragging)
    Anyway.. I didn't go to kindergarden at 3.. that's so young! I think I only started at 5.

    Aww.. I like Enid Blyton too! Didn't finish the whole series tho. Used to read it in my school library.

    I guess you need the mood and energy to write.. The profession that you're aiming for now doesn't permit you that much time. Hence the lack in inspiration. :D

    Anyway it's a good history. Mine isn't much difference suprisingly. I was pretty quiet too. A daydreamer to say the least!

  6. keong, high 5! honestly, i'm not sure whether i finish that whole series of Enid Blyton's, i just remembered reading a lot.. i remembered being scolded for reading under the table during class.. but i guess, people changes over time... like when one learnt to make friends, occupied oneself with work,.. one start to neglect their old friends, reading, one of them...

    i still try to find time to read.. Mitch Albom, Dan Brown, they are just too good to resist.. a good book and a cup of coffee, nothing is more complete.. (correction: tea) it feels good, to daydream, once in a while..

  7. awww, i remember how u were in school! and it was exactly how u wrote it! i love reading too!so much! but find it rather hard to do once i started working =(, it's beautiful the way u write, coz it brings many smiles to my face =) poh lin

  8. dear poh lin,
    do you still remember, back in primary school, we used to write letters to each other? i remember having 'nicknames' for each other, and we would write to each other... i do not remember much of the content though... i do remember though, you were there for me, you talked to me even when i was shy, unfriendly and quiet.. you were the school prefect back then..
    i am glad,... i am glad to have you as a friend.. you have helped me go through primary school.. making me feel less alone back then.. thank you for that, and so much more ^^


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Author's Note

Dear friends and readers, Thank you for dropping by and leaving comments/ shoutouts. More importantly, thank you for being there... please accept my apology that, lately, i may be busy with work and not have time to reply youir messages/comments, but rest assured, each and everyone is read, and highly appreciated :) have a nice day! ^^

of love

Today, i heard a story which was not a story of falling...
of living in the dark end of winter turmoil..
instead, it was a love story..
of a couple who did not live happily ever after...
but they live, loving each other..