September 25, 2008

Sold soul (a fiction of epic proportion) continues..

(This is an ongoing online novel started as a fictionalised events of my life. Its based on true events not all experienced by me but there were some total fictions too)
The chapter during my university days started with more culture shock. I thought one year of schooling in a public school in a small town will prepare me for it.

As one of the Malaysian National Economic Policy generation, I am blessed to be allowed into a scheme called the two-year matriculation experience, tailor-made for bumiputra school leavers. It is a substitute for Form 6 which had to be experienced by those less unfortunate non-bumiputra students. Here, everyone was considered to be more or less equal and they already have one foot in the university door. Some of us were so inept at being force feed education that we still managed to fail to get through these matriculation stage even with lecturers who tried to pass us no matter what.

These 2 years were the years we tried to learn as much as possible from our fellow seasoned KLites party-goer on how to party until the wee hour of the mornings. Although we were nearly 40km off KL, that does not stop us from renting cars from unlicensed car hirer. Being new at knowing how to drive did not stop us from racing down highways as if the roads were race tracks. Those who have powerful bikes even joined the other 'mat rempit' already having gangs in the small university township, which are surrounded by various Japanese factories. There were 'minah kilang' on every corner for us to learn about a lot of things. Free shows were in abundance as we were served up sex on stairs at the block across ours on various nights.

So bad was our ignorance of safety, one life was even lost then and I was smack in the middle of the incident. Riding a RXZ (the bike of choice for all racer then), my friend overestimated a round-about which made him fell on top of the tarmac within it. As I was in a friend's car just after them, we managed to send him to the nearest general hospital and saved his life (with an altered face). When he was back on the same bike after 4 months and just 200 metres from the same round-about, his fate was sealed. We put him down to rest in his hometown in Malacca. That was one of the few friends I ever witnessed dying in front of my eyes.

Did it stop our partying ways? Thanks to 2 institutions called JPA and MARA, every last one of us were givwn scholarships during our 2 years there, whether we need it or not. The amount of RM1,900 every 6 months were enough to make us splurged on untold unnecessary gadgets such as mini compo (how I wish there was iPod then), clothes (how I wish there were real branded item then) and even motorbikes. Some did save their money but they were the minority. The parties keep on coming with DV8 and Picaddily became one of our favourite spots.

This was also the years called the Godfather years...

(to be continued)

1 comment:

Cosmic_GurL said...! U guys were perasan macho!! Those were the good ol days I must say...

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