During the sixties, specifically from 1960 to 1965, I was ensconced at the Pasar Road English School (1) in Pasar Road. There was a Malay school across the road but I have forgotten its name. The structure then was not as impressive as the building now captured in the video above. Obviously this was quite a recent take of the school. They say old schools never die, they just fade away. But for me this school after six decades still remain firmly implanted in my mind. It was here that I began my journey into literacy. I cannot remember much of those halcyon days but I remember it was a happy time indeed. Many of my classmates then are still around today but their status have changed since those early years. Many are now pillars of society. There is no bigger joy than to recognize and greet a fellow classmate from those days. It is like winning the first prize in a lottery......much much more than that I should say. Sadly a few have passed on before their time, due to sickness. But they are now in heaven with the Creator, of that I am certain. Tears well up in my eyes when I think back to those fresh yound innocent faces, lining up outside the corridor waiting to enter the classrooms. I am not a learned man but I can feel the pride and joy of being taught by those wonderful and dedicated team of teachers we had back then. No one in particular but without a doubt, all Malay, Indian and Chinese teachers worked hand in hand to educate us in the finer things of life that is knowledge.
Pasar Road school was situated in Pasar road, eponymously named if you must. The people who stayed there were called Pasarians. Yeap, to be a Pasarian was an honor bestowed on those who lived in the area. The residential part of it comrpised those working in the civil service while the commercial center was 100% Chinese merchants. There wasn't any trouble between the two groups, in fact they complemented each other. Religious faiths was evenly distributed and hence there was always something to celebrate. The different races were in harmony with each other and often celebrated each other's festival. No government officer was around to tell them to get along with each other, they just did it naturally. I was staying at No.17, Djalan Selatan, Imbi and in front of my house was the famous Imbi road drain. I spent many a happy moment catching fish in the historic big drain. In the nights around 9pm I would sit beside the front window of my room and conduct a tete-a-tete with Tamil Michael, my other half who was my neighbor and whose dad worked in the government printers in Djalan Tjan Sow Lien.I came to know he has migrated to Germany and is married to a German doctor. Tamil Michael was a devout Catholic and he went to church without fail every Sunday. He was a member of the congregation at St. Anthony's church near the Selangor Chinese Recreation Club. T Michael dreamnt about being a priest and he did enter a seminary in Singapore after his MCE but he was kicked out after his eigth year as he was deemed unfit to be a priest. The course was extremely strict and difficult and not many made the grade. His dad, Uncle Arulnasamy or Uncle Arul as we affectionately called him was a genial gentleman who had a fondness for nira cola aka tuak aka toddy, the strong sweet brew that many Malaysians loved so much. After work, every day uncle Arul would head for the toddy stall near the big drain and there drown his sorrows together with his cronies. He would be there drinking from 6pm to 10pm and then head back home singing and whistling popular Tamil songs. He was all kindness and gentleness in such a condition smiling and wishing everyone a pleasant night. A sad thing befell Tamil Michael after his MCE exams, he was stricken with the disease of albino. Before T Michael left Malaysian shores headed for germany, he was completely white from head to toe. Me Tjina Michael and he Tamil Michael made a formidable duo during the sixties in the Imbi area. Many jambu and chicken thefts were attributed to the both of us. We were even credited with the ability to become orang halus or the invisible men. We were average students, not much good at anything except for a big mouth and big dreams. Coincidentally we looked almost alike, we both had squarish heads and short curly hair. And we both loved nasi uduk or called nasi lemak in Malaysia. In the summer of 1968, T Michael and C Michael entered a church in Djalan Peel and we swore to be blood brothers in a quiet solemn ceremony beside the rupang (image) of our Mother Lourdes. I remember coming back after that feeling high and elated that now I had a blood brother. T Michael had a younger sister called Apam, yeap Apam....and she was a looker. Apam Arulnasamy went to the Convent Peel Road school and scored 8A 1s and she went to study medicine at the University of Malaya. After she qualified as a doctor she joined the Indian army as a captain and that was the last we heard of her. Her family does not mention her name anymore and I suspect she was killed in one of the many wars India either fought against pakistan or the peoples republic of China. I am not sure whether Miss Apam ever married or had progeny as a result of it. When I think back of her I wonder what made her go to India...was it pressure of fashionable for Indian girls to go back to Mother india or Sangam as the Indians call it. When I was nine years old in Djalan Imbi, Communist China fought a war against India and I remember vividly T Michael's family selling their earrings, bangles and gold bracelets and donated it to the Indian government via the Indian embassy in Kuala Lumpur. Such misplaced patriotism for the whole family were Malaysians, all born in malaya then. I fail to understand people to this day. My dad was a great friend of uncle Arul and the both of them would trade stories in the night at their front doors which faced each other. T Michael's mom was the second wife of uncle Arul and I understood uncle Arul's first wife ran off with a tikam batu man. T Michael took after his father in looks and temperament. Both of them were jolly kaki and very jovial characters. Tamil Michael loved the arts and after his LCE he quickly enrolled in the arts stream. If I had a wish, it is this, I wish to see Tamil Michael again and touch base with him about old times.
The neighbor to the left of my house was a Syed Ali. Syed Ali's dad was of Arab descent and his mom was Chinese. He was a genial character and he loved "char siu" or Chinese red meant made from roasted pork. He loved to say to us kids younger than him, he had no problem to bantai "Chi yoke" or pork in any form. He used to tell us he was a friend of pigs and pigs loved him. I used to wonder if his parents knew what he was up to. His elder sister was a Kirby trained teacher and she was there two years and came back to Malaysia after her training in the UK.There were only three of them, Syed Ali had an elder brother who was a sort of a mysterious character. The elder brother smoked Roughrider cigarettes very popular brand during those days. Syed Ali often came to my house when he was free and he was free a lot. I never heard him discuss anything about his school work. In front of my house was a cherry tree and Syed Ali would often sit on the trunk of the tree and gazed longingly at the big drain. SA could speak cantonese and he would often try to speak to me in cantonese. Problem is I did not understand a word of cantonese. Syed Ali, Tamil Michael and I were a threesome and we often walked and prowled the neighborhood together looking out for jambu batu trees. SA also studied at pasar road english school and as to his grades I never had an idea. We used to call SA gajah affectionately as he was a tall and stout person. he loved jeans and would always sport a pair of jeans when he was with us. SA 's sister spoke very fluent English and being a teacher she knew how to get along with kids like us. She married another teacher who happened to be her colleague teaching at the same school i.e the Princess Road School in Princess road now known as Djalan Raja Muda. I remember that night very well, the house was lit like a fairyland and the Prime Minister of malaysia, His Highness Tunku Abdul Rahman alighted from his car at the intersection with Circular road and walked all the way along the drain to SA's house for the happy occasion. There was a Malay orchestra who played entertaining Malay music and it was a joy to listen to music like Si Jali Jali and Semerah padi. I was at the feast and remembered gorging on 60 sticks of the sate a Malay delicacy. Sate was smoked meat usually of chicken and beef. I washed the stuff down with a red F & N drink I forget the name. That night I suffered from bad dreams about being chased by sate sticks. Syed Ali's mom and dad were proud and happy parents who gladly gave away their daughter's hand in marriage to a young dashing teacher who taught English at the school. Actually both were English teachers. After the marriage the happy couple stayed with SA's parents at the Imbi house. All the Imbi road houses had been renovated and almost all had extensions including the house I stayed in.The house was big enough for 10 persons and they were very spacious. Very few houses had cars, cars were then perceived as luxuries and not necessities. My parents were fond of Syed Ali whom they treated like a son. SA was two years my senior. SA's dada was a tall burly man with a head like a big rugby ball. He was completely bald. He had a strong physique and according to SA, he could down 3 plates of nasi uduk in one sitting hands down. During those days there were no mamak stalls around and people who wanted teh had to visit Chinese coffee shops. Nights in Imbi road during those days were a quiet affair. Eevryone went to bed early. There was no entertainment around. And the favorite form of relaxation was the sturdy radio.
Syamsuddin or Din as we affectionately called him lived a few doors away from us. He was also a student of Pasar Road English School (1). His English wasn't very good but it was not a problem as we spoke Malay when we were together. Din was a jovial person and easy to get along. In later years he became the first choice goalkeeper for Cochcrane Road Secondary School. He had a funny way of laughing, giggling like a school girl but it was not unpleasant and we got on very well. Sometimes the mother would cook nasi padang and would tell Din to invite us and partake of a nasi padang meal. As I said we never used English as a medium of communication and we spoke colloquial Malay whenever we were together. Din knew a bit of Tamil and sometimes he would tease Tamil Michael in Tamil. Since we were all of almost the same age, we shared similar interests. Our interests were watching western coboy movies and football which was our favorite game. When it was dark, we would often gather at the doorstep of my house and chatter away the time. Our curfew time was 9pm and before 9pm we would break up and go to bed. We were all studying in morning school and oftentimes we would wind up waiting at the bus stand waiting for the same bus to take us to school. The famous Imbi road bus stand was just alongside the famous big drain. Many years have passed since those years in history and I am grateful for sharing a piece of my life with those stalwart friends of my childhood.
Spider catching was very popular those days. And my friends and I would spend hours crouching near bushes and any place which has flowers and leaves to try and catch us some spiders. I have forgotten most of how we caught those spiders but I remember we were crazy about catching spiders.
I remember Mr. Mokhtar Dahari very well. He was staying in Kampong Pandan, KL when he was studying at VI. A soft-spoken person, he was a very pleasant personality. He had a crew-cut when he was in VI and kept it till his last day at school. He was not well known as a footballer then, he was more into athletics as a sprinter because of his powerful thighs which packed a 2hp engine in them. He was the darling of sports masters until a small unkown teacher teaching geography in Form 6 had the foresight in noticing Mokhtar's tremendous potential in football. He made a suggestion to the headmaster Mr. Mureugesu to include him for football. After getting permission to get Mokhtar the switch, the teacher contacted Datuk Mazlan the manager for the Selangor team to take a look at him and after the "look" there was no turning back for Mokhtar in the field of football. Riches and fame did not affect Mokhtar, if it had Mokhtar would have easily been accepted by any first division team in the English Premier League and became a very rich man. Mr. Mokhtar Dahari I repeat was not such a man. He was contented to play for the Malaysian team until his unfortunate passing.
MR. MOKHTAR DAHARI I SALUTE AS A TRUE PATRIOT AND HUMAN BEING.
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