A Sudden Flash Of Memories

A walk in the park, chit chatting with my old friends from my first primary school about how things were and how things are now, went back home, and a sudden flash of memories. Dark, mysterious, frightening, I don't know how to describe them.

A small entrance to my first primary school within sight. Somehow, I hesitated to make my step towards the school. I had something with me that I know I couldn't take into school. Maybe toys, or sticker books or junk food, I can't really remember. The teacher at the gate was checking the students bags. I turned back and walked somewhere else.

I walked between rows of houses looking to pass time. I knew that if it was way past 1 p.m., the teacher would not be at the gate. I walked and walked alone in the quiet neighbourhood, ideas of being kidnapped never crossing my mind. I see a playground a few metres away. I sit on the swing and just play around staring at my watch. It's 1.30 p.m. I make my way back to school and just go in without being checked as only the guard was there.

Another flash of memory. I walking around a restricted area in school. I see a huge concrete bath tub-shaped structure. I think that's the place that the rubbish is thrown. I see a few guys playing around there. I can't remember their faces, except for one. But I know that they were elder to me.

How did I end up there? I don't find any answers but I think I knew them somewhat. They call me to go and see them catching grasshoppers. I knew that students were restricted there but I just followed the 3 boys. Then, all of a sudden, the headmaster catches us red handed hanging around. I stood the furthest from him and behind me was a coridor heading to the front of the school.

Instinct told me to run. I turned back and dashed. I can't remember if the teacher was yelling at me. My nightmare in school started form that day onwards. Whenever I saw the headmaster, I tried to get away and go somewhere.

My class was very near the office. Everytime I saw him outside the office, I would bend down form my seat in class so that my head was under the table. I was terrified whenever he walked by my class. I still remember his face. So intense was the fear in me that I was freaked out at the sight of him.

Somehow, my father found out about my fear. I can't remember if I told him what really happened. Or maybe, it was parent-teacher day in school and when I saw the headmaster, I hid behind my father. Somehow, the next thing that flashed across my mind was me sitting in the headmaster's office facing the headmaster himself.

I think my father explained to the headmaster about why I was scared of him. The headmaster then called me to him. He asked me to sit on is lap. He uttered kind words about his intentions that day and reassured me that he wasn't the monster I imagined him to be.

Another flash of memory. I was again getting away from somebody, but this time it was not the headmaster. I made my way through scores of students just to distance myself from his searching eyes. However, my eyes caught his terrifying figure.

He was a year older to me. He was slightly taller and possessed a piercing stare. However, the scariest thing abut him that made so many students scared of him was that he had no fingers in one of his hands. He used this disability to scare students and demand for money. I was one of those victims.

Everytime I saw him, he would call me and ask me for money. I didn't know why but I was just to scared to resist him. I never really told anyone. But somehow, again, my father found out about my fear in school.

The next day, after school, my father was there waiting. He saw the boy and asked him why was he threatening me to get money. He did not budge from his silent stance. Then slowly, he revealed that he was form a very poor family and his parents never really gave him any money to eat. I still remember how that small scared boy (me) felt so sympathetic for him.

Another flash of memory and I remembered where he stayed. His home was a small hut by the side of the road. I remember seeing him going into his house one day when I was on my way back from school. I did see him a few times after that but then he just smiled at me. I was still scared on one hand but sympathy filled my heart for the disabled and disadvantaged boy.

Memories start pouring in again. This time, I'm sweating. I'm standing in my between my classmates in a line during the after-recess assembly. One of my friends' was called out. My heartbeat raced. I knew I did something I should not have done, something the school prohibited. Finally I remembered. We were not supposed to play football during recess. But that was something my friends and I couldn't stop doing.

Another flash showed me running away from a teacher who had seen us playign football. I think that's why the teacher decided to take action all of a sudden. The disciplinary teacher asked my friend whom he called out to call out the names of others who were playing football with him.

In my old school, soem of them used to call me 'kavia' instead of Kavi. I heard this friend of mine mentioning the former name. I jus stood in my place. My classmates were staring at me. I recall telling them that my name was Kavi and not Kavia. That day, my named saved me and I escaped the caning that my friends experinced.

The sudden flash of memmories that day as I was standing in front of the mirror brought me back to my darkest memories during my time in my first primary school. The friends whom I met in Botanic Park that evening were actually caned by my teacher that unlucky day.

When I look back at all things I used to do, it's quite ahrd to imagine how naughty I used to be when I was in my first primary school. Going late to school to escape the spotchecks, running away from the headmaster and playing football during recess which was strictly restricted