~In the Prefect's Room~ The Prefect's room is right below the Assistant Head Master's room and is connected with an inter-com system. The Prefects were required to put on a tie and black shoes. For those who can afford, they may also don a blazer with the College Crest. The Prefects also had a different metal badge than the other students. In the 70's the Prefects were an influential lot and given enough autonomy to instill discipline and compliance.
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It's fascinating what a few words of English can do. Take, for instance one particular incident that happened to me when I was in Lower Six. I was a Prefect and was on duty as a "Duty Prefect" for the week. A Duty Prefect is one who is given the overall task of checking on the other Prefects and also to make any observations for the improvement of the School - from dilapidated facilities to dirty toilets. He then reports his findings in a Report Book which is read by the Assistant Head-Master cum Prefects Advisor. The latter would then direct the relevant persons to look into the complaints contained in the report. Now, during my beat one morning, someone highlighted the existence of a termite nest in a cupboard of one of the Sixth Form classes. Sure enough there it was- a huge mould about two feet high! From the look of it, it must have been there undetected for quite a while. Just the sight of it set us laughing. So, like any good Duty Prefect, I promptly reported it in the Report Book so that someone, probably the Gardener, could remove it and do something to prevent its recurrence. Days passed by happily, and one day I did a check. Lo and behold! The termite nest was still there. Quite irritated, I sent in another report with the words..."it seems that nothing has been done." Before I knew it, Mr. Ooi, the stout Sports Teacher came barging into my class and demanded to speak to me. Unbeknownst to me, Mr. Ooi WAS instructed by Mr. Sheshadri, the Prefects Advisor, to get rid of the nest, and that he did accomplish. However, unbeknownst to Mr. Ooi and myself, the termites decided to rebuild their nest - and on the same spot at that during the intervening days! So on that day, I had an earful of advice to be more careful when I use the English phrase "it seems that..." ! I was never a sportsman in school, being too shy to reveal my scrawny frame. So when it was time for PE (physical exercises) I had a tough time giving various excuses to the PE Master not to join the others in the field - like having appendicitis (pointing to the wrong side of my abdomen). It was not easy but I got away most of the time. When I was not too lucky however, I was asked to run a few rounds of the school field. There was one time when I managed to strike a deal with the Master. I can’t remember his name now but I believe he was a Eurasian. The deal was that I help him translate Mr. Joginder Singh Jessy's history text into Malay. Not that my Malay was any good but I guess it was better than his. So there I was working on history in the Pavilion, the rest of my classmates frolicking in the field and the Master sitting majestically on a chair shaking his legs and enjoying the scenery. Can you picture that! The only subject I thoroughly enjoyed in school was Art. I had a flair for painting and had an "A" for it in the HSC exams. The problem with Art back then was that it was seen to be a soft-skill subject with no job prospects in the future. So even though I did very well in Art, I ended deviating 180% to do dry Economics in the University of Malaya. In the College, I admired the paintings of a Malay chap that I cannot recall his name now. All that I can remember is that his name ended in "Haq", like Jamalul Haq or something. He was real good, especially with the water colour style. Then there was Rizal who was deft with black ink drawings of people, something that he mastered by browsing the Wild Wild West comics that one could buy in bookshops. This Rizal was also good with Hindi songs and the class would be entertained with his repertoire of Mohd. Rafi classics during the subject breaks. And by the masterful thumping of his palms on the wooden desk and deftful strumming of his fingers he was able to create a Tabla effect as well. Momentarily we were transported to the undulating highlands of Hindustan with its rhythm and melody and two lovers dancing, till a sharp "ehem !" from an incoming Master would end our reverie. The last I heard of Rizal was that he was doing some illustration work with a government publication house. It's nice to know that my Hindi singing friend was able to do what he knew best. Pardesiyon Se Na Aankhiyan Milana...! |
