Sunday, August 15, 2010


"He won't let me be indifferent to the suffering," I Only Ask of God by Outlandish.

This is another work of fiction.


Ms Divya went into the teachers’ dining area with a peeved look on her face. The kids have done it again, thought Mrs Seng as she invited Ms Divya to sit down next to her.

“What’s the matter darling? What has 4 Aktif done THIS time?” asked Mrs Seng caringly while half-massaging her friend’s right arm.

“Oooh, I just don’t know what to do with those idiots anymore! They’re just too dumb to be in school!” Ms Divya lamented.

“Yes, 4 Aktif really are one pathetic bunch,” nodded Mrs Seng in agreement.

“It’s like this, you know.. Do you remember the big wall clock that I brought to school?”

“Ahaa,” Mrs Seng nodded anyway, not recalling anything regarding the said clock at all. Ms Divya could tell.

“Well, I brought it here a few months back since I no longer wanted it at home. I thought, since it was really big, it could teach the hooligans at 4 Aktif a thing or two about time, so I put it in their class.” Ms Divya paused to catch her breath.

“Did the kids break it?” Mrs Seng hypothesized.

“They broke it!” confirmed Ms Divya with a look of despair. “I’m so angry at them! As soon as I entered the class, I noticed that a part of the floor was covered in glass, where some of the idiots were trying to sweep. I looked up at the place I hung the clock and it wasn’t there anymore. Do you know where they put it? In the waste basket behind the class! It didn’t even fit the clock!” Ms Divya went on switching between anger and torment in her tone of voice.

“What did you do then?” asked Mrs Seng. If her ears had lips, they were smacking away.

“I screamed. I’m sure you heard it.” Mrs Seng did. The whole school did. “I asked the good-for-nothing Class Monitor what happened. He was the one holding the broom. You know what he said?” Ms Divya hung the question.

As if I knew. “What did he say?” Mrs Seng asked impatiently.

“He mumbled on about changing the battery or something and ‘accidentally’ dropped the clock! Stupid boy!” Ms Divya’s face reddened, and Mrs Seng had a feeling she wasn’t blushing.

“Hm, alasan all that. He just said that he wanted to change the battery, when he really had no reason right? He was just playing with the clock and dropped it right?” Mrs Seng tried to imply.

“He tried to get all smart-alecky on me. He even had the nerve to show me the ‘new’ batteries that he bought. He said the clock hasn’t been running since it got there. Padahal I was just going to get new batteries next week! I smacked the boy right away! I said, when you make a mistake, apologize first! Don’t give me reason after stupid reason!” Ms Divya pointed her finger to the air in front of her as if she were scolding Syafiq right now.

“Ha, padan muka that kid. Shows him right for talking back,” Mrs Seng nodded her approval.

“Hm, then I ordered everyone in the class to stand outside the class in the corridor to let them think about what they’ve done. It wasn’t a cheap clock, you know? I bought it from Ipoh!” Ms Divya clarified.

Yaa, yaa, I could imagine.”

“Then I left the class there, outside the corridor holding their ears. Which reminds me, I should get back there and follow-up on my lecture to them. Still got a lot to say. They better still be standing there, or else even I don’t know what I’m going to do with them,” Ms Divya warned, almost to Mrs Seng as well.

“Well, you’re right. Go on ahead,” Mrs Seng smiled showing her consent.

And with that Ms Divya took her handbag and left the canteen. Mrs Seng continued to sip on her glass of teh tarik.



Thursday, August 12, 2010

Mr Rizman

"If these walls could speak, imagine, what would they say?" Try Not To Cry by Outlandish feat. Sami Yusuf.

This is a work of fiction.


Mr Rizman massaged his forehead as a faint headache started to formulate inside his skull. These kids. Standard 4 and still not able to write a proper sentence. When are they going to learn? he lamented to himself as he reclined in his chair. He has been marking 4 Bijak’s English exercise books for not more than 10 minutes and he is flustered, to say the least.

Kak Ros materialized beside his table, looking for something on her table full of files. Behind her stood Shahrul, the 3 Sepadu student he always saw sitting alone during recess. Mr Rizman smiled to himself. A release. He sat up and the smile from his face vanished.

“BOY! WHERE ARE YOU GOING?” Mr Rizman asked the child as if he was addressing a deaf boy. Shahrul turned in surprise and composed himself quickly enough.

“Going?” thought Shahrul to himself. But I’m already here.

“OI! PEKAK KA? I ASKED YOU A QUESTION!” Mr Rizman demanded with a scowl on his face and a smile in his pocket.

“Er, Puan Rosmah..” Shahrul started his sentence.

AWAT NGAN PUAN ROSMAH?” Mr Rizman interjected authoritatively. At that Puan Rosmah turned to Mr Rizman with an enquiring look on her face. Mr Rizman just tilted his head towards the pupil and Puan Rosmah went back to finding whatever she was looking for.

“Puan Rosmah asked me to carry some books,” Shahrul said to the ground more than to Mr Rizman.

“Ooo, Puan Rosmah you help but me you never help?” Mr Rizman said in a disapproving tone.

“Cikgu tak pernah suruh pun,” Shahrul said in a low voice. To this Mr Rizman stood up.

“WHAT DID YOU SAY??” and a tight slap went across Shahrul’s face. “HOW DARE YOU SAY THAT!” The audacity of this boy!

Puan Rosmah, who had found the file she wanted a few moments ago just rolled her eyes to this.

JANGAN DOK PANDAI-PANDAI MENJAWAB WHEN I TALK!” Mr Rizman ordered. You could see the shaking heads and tut-tuts around the staff room. Kids these days…

Shahrul held his right cheek. It burned. He suddenly felt a wave of tears coming to his eyes so he quickly wiped them away. Teacher said that boys can’t cry.

Dah, dah. Here,” Puan Rosmah handed the boy the file she needed him to carry. Shahrul took it without a word and tried with all his might to avoid Mr Rizman’s glare, but he felt it all the same. He felt relief when Puan Rosmah started walking away and he followed closely, all the while keeping his eyes on Puan Rosmah’s shoes.

Mr Rizman eyed the boy right until he exited the staff room. As soon as he stepped out, a smile broke on his face as he crossed his fingers together and stretched. He ran his fingers through his hair and decided to get a drink from the school canteen. He stood up, left the other unmarked exercise books on his table and headed towards the cafeteria.



Wednesday, August 4, 2010

An Anecdote?

"Don't despair and never lose hope," Insya Allah by Maher Zain.

Amri stared at the heels of Yahya's shoes drearily. Bata. Why were shoes named after bricks, thought Amri to himself as Cikgu Nora was saying something on the stage from behind the rostrum. He alongside his 500-plus schoolmates has been standing at the same spot for all of 15-minutes and he is bored.

He looked to his left where Nakiah was busy jotting down whatever she was jotting down. How could you write while standing up? There's no table to put your book on, thought Amri with a look of curiosity on his face as he tried to catch a glimpse of what Nakiah was writing.

He was just about to make out the word "disiplin" when he turned his head toward the stage. Did somebody call me?

"Muhammad Amri from 3 Cemerlang will recite sifir 7 on the stage now," Cikgu Nora said in one breath while Amri took in six. Alamak.

"Muhammad Amri?" Cikgu Nora repeated.

Amri finally blinked when he got a shove from behind by Wan. Oh, I still have legs, Amri processed in his mind as he took his first steps. Sifir 7? That's the hardest one! Why couldn't it have been sifir 5 or sifir 10? Why wasn't Yahya chosen? He always got the highest in Maths. Why me? I'm not even a prefect. I didn't even wear my tie!

Before he knew it, he was already at the front of the assembly, facing his 500-plus schoolmates. When did I get this microphone?

He put the mic to his mouth and inhaled.


School experience for two weeks. Pray I make the most of it.