LOVE,FLOWERS & POTS

I was a kampong boy who was brought to the city to see the bright lights.I guess there
is a culture shock and school life with a new environment plus new friends was
making me feel out of place.Who cares,as long as I get to go to a secondary
school that’s what matters to my parents.During the weekends I missed helping
my grandma most.It hurts inside knowing that she is all alone going through the
daily routine.I suppose my cousin sister is too young to assist her but then again
I was told that life must go on.It is certainly easier said than done but
that’s life.I was frustrated to know that in our school there are a few friends
who are recruited to become ‘gangsters’ by the people outside our school.One
can tell these ‘badboys’ by the way they dressed up and their hairstyle.Drain
pipe pants and permed hairs.They even have their own signs for a different
‘gang’.Watch out their fingers for the gang they belong to.I was once,twice
approached by these ‘badboys’.The first time was while I was waiting for the
bus after school to go back home.As usual everyone knows our bus service is one
of the worst at that time.1964 – 1970.Never punctual.Is it punctual now?I don’t
take our local bus anymore.From town to my home which takes about 30 minutes
but then I have to wait for at times for 2 long hours.Very frustrating I would
say.I was forced to give all the money that I have in my pocket to these
bullies.I dare not engage in a fight with them cos I see them hanging around
town daily.Smoking and I guess they are not schooling or working.Easy money,why
bother working.At times when they passed by you,one can smell the smoke that
they bring, the smell of ‘ganja’ marijuana from their cigarettes.You are looking
for trouble if you report them to the authorities.I will deal with them later
in my own way…..


“ END OF EPISODE 4 “