Growing up – Kindergarten

Lately thoughts of my late father coalesced in the ether.  I reckoned I’m the only one in the family having the said emotions but I was wrong. Last week I saw my brother’s shout out in Facebook – menangis hatiku kerana rindukan mu – he was missing Him too. Guess all of us are missing him.

Being the eldest I had more time with Him compared to the siblings. We shared wonderful times and not forgetting the dreadful ones. He was a great father, yet I was a menace. I often got myself into lots of troubles in school. The verdict to my shenanigans is three different secondary schools. But let’s not talk about my insolence. This entry is about me, growing up. And this entry is dedicated to my parents – My Lord, My Dad and not forgetting My Lady, My Mom. This entry is about me.

The earliest musing I could think of was when I was 3 or 4 years in age. Looking back at Kampung Berseri, mom and dad taught me alphabets and numbers. To them, it is like rocket science. They’re not as educated as the modern parents these days are. Dad dropped out of school in primary 4 and mom took SPM three times. She passed on her third attempt though. To mom and dad, I truly appreciate the efforts and persistence. Thank you.

I was sent to Madrasah al-Khair when I was six. There, I had formal education. Learnt to read, write and draw and things akin to what my parents taught me prior to my formal learning. I was only a year in pre-school unlike other kindergarten kids who were all in their second year. I understand that it was quite costly at that point of time to send me to a kindergarten. Mathematically, they are all a year ahead but shrewdly, we are all even. In fact, I reckon I am even smarter than most of the kids in class.

There was this kid with glasses in class. I assumed that he was somehow brilliant as I’ve never seen anyone of my age wearing glasses. I don’t know why but I don’t like him. Maybe because I think he is smarter than me. I remembered clearly I tricked Aliff Masbi into believing that plasticines are edible. I sculpted a burger out of it and pretended to chew it as of chewing gummies. I generously offered him my burger and he put it in his mouth and chewed. He got all the placticines stuck in between his teeth and he cried. He he. Idiot. He reported the incident to Cikgu Rohana but I profusely denied the allegations. Thence, I resorted to a conclusion that being a year ahead of me in kindergarten doesn’t prove any intelligence.

Primary school was of no significance. Reminiscence of the juvenile years weren’t as intriguing as the ones I had in secondary. Anyway, I’ll continue in the next entry. Signing off to Kuala Lumpur International Book Fair at PWTC.

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