In Continuum.

Part of the Forgotten Days

It only just occured to me this morning when i woke up from my bed,that YESTERDAY was Teachers' Day,a day i carelessly forgot with so many other things left in the closet of the past.You cannot blame me for forgetting it,really.When was the last time i had anything to do with a teacher?I wouldnt consider those officers in camp to be 'teachers' though,though they do 'teach' once in a while.At least you dont get extras if you get some maths question wrong,and a 'mister' followed by a surname is good enough for them,really.

Anyway,so Happy Belated Teachers' Day to all teachers,though i must say that i havent had a very vibrant life with you guys,the ones that came and went in my life that is.There were a couple of interesting ones sure,but i dont think any of them really made an impact.I cant blame them,but i guess it is the lack of interest inside of me that caused the dullness of all teachers around me.Along with the school days,the term 'teachers' seems to be running away at the speed of sound,only reminded by the echos that resonates through the walls of my brain.

I remember those days back in school when i used to wonder why Teachers' Day is a full month before the Children's.For some reason,i saw that as a sign of high priority given to the teachers than the children.My mother used to laugh at the fact that the students get a break from school despite the fact that it is the first of September,Teacher's Day.It's like giving your neighbour a birthday present when it is actually your own birthday."But Mom," i remember saying. "If the teachers take a break,there is no need for the students to go to school,is there?" Im witty since young,it's in the bones.

Memories of the celebrations in school are rather vague.The ones in Primary School were the dumbest of all,strictly because the teachers organised them.It's like throwing a surprise party for yourself,or buying a box of chocolates and placing them outside your front door on Valentine's Day,pretending to be surprised at the gift by the door.But then again,it's not like those milk-headed kids back then couldve came up with anything entertaining enough.There were songs,and there were dances,and then there were the reciting of thanks to certain teachers.Basically,that was how the celebrations in Primary School went.The teachers would sit by the edges of the hall and watch the performances,and i wonder myself if those smiles on their faces were real,or if all they wanted to do was to stab themselves with red pens.

Then it moved on to Secondary School,and it advanced a little bit.Song dedications became popular,and you start to hear students dedicating songs to teachers and classes over the P.A. Teachers' Day strictly transformed from a day to appreciate the efforts of teachers,to a day of utter retardation of the mind and of course,the half day ahead of us.Yeah,that's a rather pathetic thought,but what can i say?Teachers were the king of our lives,and not in a very good way.They terrorised us with canes and rulers,and if you dont do your work you get spanked,literally.Now that i think of it,i wonder why we were so scared of teachers.I mean,what can they do,really?

I read it on Thursday's morning paper,and there was this guy talking about how his teacher was his greatest influence,yada yada.I cant say that about myself,because im not quite sure who inspired me to do the things i like to do,the things i am good at.Music surely wasnt something the teacher encouraged me to do,because all they cared about were grades,grades and more grades.Yeah,sure they tell you that the process is always more important than the end result,but they are also the same bunch of people who tell you that if you screw up your exams you are going to end up in the hawker centres selling fishball noodles and washing grills of a fan with a hose running yellow water.

I remember that young Home Econs. teacher in Secondary School once.She asked me to the front of a class,and asked me to choose from like,five rulers.I picked one,and was whacked in the knuckles by it.How cliche,now that i think of it.What the hell was that for?Rather lame,i tell you.Then there was Mrs. Raj,my Primary One teacher.I lost my wallet once after a tiring recess of catching,and returned to class to find my blue Power Rangers wallet was missing from my pocket.That was like,the first time i ever lost something major,and i went up to Mrs. Rag,sobbing and told her about it.

Me,"Mrs. Raj,i lost my wallet."
Mrs. Raj,"Oh really?How much was in it?"
Me,"50 cents."

She gave me a cold stare then,and i swear she wanted to give me two dollars just to shut me up.But hey,fifty cents was a lot of money back then.That's about two fishballs,or one whole chicken wing from the Malay store.That's lunch for me most of the time,and that meant my lunch going down the drain.Besides,it was a Power Rangers wallet.Power.Rangers.Yo.

I remember this violent English teacher that i had,who sort of had the role of the vice-principal as well.Im not too sure why,but she was a sort of perfectionist.She looked like the female police officer in 999,that stupid Channel 5 police drama back in those days(I never really found out what happened to James Lye at the very end of one of the seasons),with cheeks that hung from the bone,powdered with rosy cosmetics,always looking pissed off.We were asking to file the worksheets in one of those thick files,and i was desperate for a hole-puncher.None was in sight,so i punched holes through the paper with the rings on the spine of the file.During inspection,she saw those and slammed the file on my head and asked me to punch proper holes.She slammed the file on my head,and it was painful.After all,my skull was properly still underdeveloped then,and to do that was quite a traumatising experience.She,from that day one,was black listed by me,until now.

Oh,that Mr.Ho from Secondary School,he was a perfect jackass.I was playing with the fountain one day,just splashing water to the floor and stuff.It was harmless water,and it'd properly dry out in less than half a day.But the sight of it irritated the hell out of him apparently,and told me to find a mop in school to wipe the mess up.I did so,and crumbled my way through the whole process of mopping the floor at the side of the porch,which really was to no avail because it only made matters worse.

How the conversation went:

Mr. Ho,"Do you have a maid at home?
Me,"No,i don't."
Mr. Ho,"HDB?"
Me,"Condo."
Mr. Ho,"Oh,so your mother does all the work."
Me,"Yeah,she does."
Mr. Ho,"How can you be so irresponsible,spilling water all over like that.Your mother would have to clean this mess up at home,do you know that?"

How the conversation couldve went,in today's context:

Mr. Ho,"Do you have a maid at home?"
Me,"No,i dont.My mother doesnt like to have a maid around."
Mr. Ho,"HDB?"
Me,"Condo."
Mr. Ho,"Oh,so your mother does all the work."
Me,"Yeah,she does."
Mr. Ho,"How can you be so irresponsible,spilling water all over like that.our mother would have to clean this mess up at home,do you know that?"
Me,"Well first of all,i do not have a bloody fountain spurting crap water out of pipes generated by some screwed-up generator,and thus it is rather impossible that such a thing could actually happen in my house.I dont go around thrashing my house simply because it is MY house,and if you see students like myself vandalising the school compound,it's gotta mean something about the school's place in the students' mind dont you think?Besides,it is water.Water.W-a-t-e-r.That's H20 in chemical terms,it is probably going to evaporate before you can say "I am a jackass",so why dont you go back up into your officer,suck on your thumb and wait till this puddle of water evaporates?Because truth be told,i don't give a damn."

I dont think i painted a very good picture for my teachers.That's not very good now is it?I guess im supposed to redeem some of them in later entries,who knows?Something good might pop up in my mind,about this special teacher that made a sort of difference.I think back then,the only adults that made sense were my parents,and never the unreasonable teachers in school.Sure,there were nicer ones,but they are usually less interesting to talk,to blog about,dont you think?

So,till the next time.Happy Teacher's Day.I hope the puddle dried up,and i am looking forward to the day when i slam a damn Yellow Pages on that violent English teacher of mine.Ta.