Sat 12th June 2021.
It's 12.50 and it's raining cats and dogs and I'm stuck in the house because of the PKP, and suddenly I remember 'varsity days. That's more than half-a-century ago !
I was 21 when I entered the University of Malaya. The HSC was the key to get in. I did ok, I guess, because the minimum required was "1 principal 2 subsid". I had 3 principals - 1 B, 2 C's and my GP was a 3 (1 & 2 = distinction). In fact the Aussie lecturer who helped with the registration was impressed. "Wow ! "B"! Wonder what he'd say if it was "A".
UM was the only university in the country until University Kebangsaan just outside the gates years after graduation. From 20 -30 students per classroom to 10 times more "undergraduates" per class, from school uniform to wear-as-you-please, from fixed classes to come-if-you-want, from school canteen to the Union House - it was all too big a change to not make an impression.
Probably all the Malay students were on scholarship. In fact some who shouldn't get scholarships also got them. Like that girl whose parents were Cabinet Ministers. Without it I wouldn't have been there. After Standard 6, I was selected to go into Form 1 at MCKK, the premier Malay college at that time. I didn't go. Dad said he couldn't afford it, after seeing the long list of stuff to bring on registration. They had scholarships, actually. We didn't know. I should have gone.
The library, the Arts Concourse, and the Union House were where we would hang out, when not in class, which was most of the time. There was a pool room for billiards and the canteen at the Union House. For the three years that I was there, I always saw the same people playing billiards, all the time. I wonder if they graduated.
There was one Robert, a Chinese waiter at the canteen. I think it was Rozhan, at that time still not a convert, who introduced me to "french toast", and I liked it. Robert would come to the table . "Wat you want, ah ?" "French toast" "Oh, flentot" And we'd get our french toast.
After some time, we decided to try and imitate Robert and see if we can get served. "Wat you want, ah?" "Flentot" "Wat, wat?" "Flentot" "Donno lah !" "French toast lah !" "Oh, flentot !" Only he could understand his pronounciation apparently.
The late Amir was in my batch, doing Arts. Years later we met again in SIGC. He was a lawyer in Seremban, a UK graduate. He failed his first year at MU. But that was no surprise. He spent all his time drinking beer at the Union House. I know. I joined him one afternoon. But I couldn't hold my beer. I got sick in the toilet. The late Ghaz was there. He drove me in his MG Midget to Fadzil's room in First College, where I again got sick and vomited on the floor, and Fadzil had to clean up.
One day I saw the late Yassin Salleh, a college mate from RMC days. He was in the Navy. He was walking towards 4th College, to meet his girl friend. That was a good 1.5 km. I took him on my Honda 90. That was the last time I saw him.
That Honda 90 was bought with my scholarship money. The NS scholarship wasn't much. But motorcycles those days weren't much too. We had 3 groups of students. The walkers, the riders and the rich. The rich all had cars. Mostly we were riders. All kinds of motorcycles were there. This guy had a Honda Superbike and was the envy of everyone. But many were resigned to affordable makes, new and used. Still, the number of bikes meant people were going to mess up with them. I lost my battery the first month. Somebody simply opened the box and unscrewed the battery. And I parked my bike just across the library ! The late AK Bear didn't lose his bike, back at First College. They just hauled it up the stairs (the only way) right up to the top floor. I never learned how AK Bear got his bike down. Wan Wahid had a medium-sized sports bike that one time I wanted to borrow. At first he agreed, but when the day came he changed his mind. Azahari rode a Lambretta that looked too big for him. We rode to Raub, KP and Melaka during one university break. Hank rode also. We went to his kampong in KP one week end. We also went to his parents quarters in KL. And we rode together to 4th. College one day, when he was trying to tackle "that girl". She got away.
My bike came handy for Fadzil, too. He wanted to go to Ku Arpah's house, and asked me to take him there. I don't know how he came back. Ku Arpah later married a science student, I can't remember his name. Ku Arpah's younger sister later married Tunku Naqiyuddin of NS. She changed her "Ku" to "Tunku".
There was a lake in the campus, Later on it got filled up, not on purpose, but by growth and neglect. I wonder if it's still there. The last time I went on to the bridge was maybe 1970, when I took Basariah for supper at the old canteen. The late Ungku Aziz also used to jog around the lake, when jogging wasn't in fashion. And the engineering lecturer used to hit some golf balls around the lake. I didn't know golf for another 22 years, so I don't know if his swing was ok.
I called Malik Daim as I was writing these notes. "Bok" gave me his number. Malik has a new wife, but no new offspring. Bok said the sawah is dry. I told Malik Bok said that. Malik says it's still wet. I later told Bok what I said to Malik and his response. Bok got annoyed for telling Malik what he told me. But it's all trivia. Like the flentot.
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