Compositions of yore - part 1

Found a bunch of my old school compositions, essays and such, and realised I had more imagination then than I do now. I got the highest score (25.5 out of 30) ever for composition for this one I did for an English test. Reading it now, it seems a bit silly and immature in style and the language is imperfect, but I was 13 years old after all. I present the piece de resistance of my secondary school career, almost entirely unedited except for two mistakes, one for spelling and the other for misuse.

I should call it "Confessions of a Teenage Banana" or something to that effect. (For the benefit of non-Singaporeans, a Chinese person who is Westernised and can't speak Chinese well is often referred to as a banana - yellow on the outside, white on the inside.)

The Chinese textbook lay open on the desk. I remained in my present position of repose, leaning against the back of my chair. I looked at the book. Finally, I leaned forward and made another attempt at studying. The little masses of lines did not make sense to me. I looked at them hard, trying to compute them into my brain. The little lines began to fidget and squirm, swimming around in a chaotic mess.

I did not know what all those lines meant. Those Chinese words, what did they mean? The examples, in Chinese, the explanations, in Chinese, the test! In Chinese.

I took another glance at the timetable pasted on the wall. First period: Chinese. Not just “CL”, but “HL”, Higher Chinese. First period, test. Major test. Chinese major test.

I turned to my neighbour for help. I opened my mouth to say something in Chinese to her. I said the first word. My tongue tied up in knots.

“Ching…w…en…we…oh boy! Er, che, che…”

I was feeling cold and prickly. My heart was beating normally, but I gasped for air through my mouth. Don’t tell me I am so nervous I can’t even speak it now! I thought.

Clip…clop…clip…clop…ssslop.

The sound of a pair of sandals walking in and pausing rang in my ears. Two sandals stood apart in the middle of the classroom in the front. They extended to flabby calves, a dull orange suit to a hard, thin face set in a large head, emphasised by a mushroom-shaped hairstyle.

“Tong shue men, che yen. (Students, test.)”

Test, test, test! It echoed in my mind and bounced from one side of the classroom to the other, but the other girls did not seem to hear. But it was so loud! They were just calmly keeping their books while I was flipping through hysterically, practically ripping the pages out. A long wooden ruler landed on the page I was at. I did not look up. I was so bathed in cold sweat that the chilly droplets dripped down my back. A long, bony finger pointed to the book, then under the table. Clip, clop, clip, clop, the finger and the ruler were gone. The rustling of rough brown paper being passed round was heard. I clasped my hands and started muttering whatever prayers came in my head. It was only a while later that I realised I was talking gibberish and that the girl in front of me was slapping the papers on my desk impatiently. I dutifully took them, took a sheet and passed the pile on.

Darn, I swore. What the heck is the setter trying to do? I cursed every teacher in the Chinese department. I didn’t understand a word in the script. I filled in the blanks with whatever came into my head. Even these did not look right to me.

Suddenly, time was up. I was just barely three quarters done! I hastily scribbled what I could before the script was whipped out of my hand. I silently replaced the lid on my pen and watched the teacher tidy the pile of papers. As I watched, I told myself, “Whatever happens, you have been a good girl, said your prayers, kissed Mummy goodbye and cleaned your ears. God will let you through the pearly gates.” [Comment inserted by the teacher here: "Yah, but you didn't study for your test"] My heart had sunken so low that I lost track of it. The air in my mind was still and cold. I leaned back in my chair and gazed about the classroom. My day had ended.