Lasting effect of an accusation

Pic taken from democraticunderground.com


Been covering the Malaysian Motorcycle Grand Prix at the Sepang Circuit this week. Read the NST for that.

As usual, there are plenty of cigarette breaks where us colleagues gather for between quick and lengthy puffs outside our workplace, given that since last year, the Sepang Circuit media centre has been a no smoking area.

On one of those breaks today, a couple of colleagues and I chatted, of course, about the ongoing RPK saga, and then about how we were gonna quit smoking. Somehow, I drifted back to when I actually started smoking and tried to gather how this habit actually came about.

"It was a false accusation!" I remembered.

I didn't need much reminding, more so it was one of the worst experiences I shared with a friend who isn't with us anymore. Yes, that's how I started smoking in 1987, when I was 13 and going to Form One at a school in Subang Jaya.

I remember that day quite well.
My friend the late Fuzian, who passed away in a road accident in 1991, and myself had entered the school through a hole in the fence across the football field, where there was a tree that provided some shade. School hadn't started yet and we were eating our aiskrim potong and just chatting under that tree. Of course, we did also climb up and sat on the branches just for some added excitement.

Suddenly, a prefect came screaming across the field. "Mr. Singham wants to see you in the teachers' room!" he cried.

"Damn, we should have just came in through the front gate," I told Fuzian, as we were escorted to the teachers' room by the prefect. Nevermind, maybe we'd get a warning, that would be all, I thought. But no.

"Empty your pockets. Then let's see what you have in your bags," Singham, the discipline master said as soon as we arrived. Now, I got worried. Did something get stolen? Have we been accused by somebody?

"I saw very clearly that the two of you were smoking."
My dear God. At that point in my life, I had never really touched a cigarette, never lit it, never even thought of doing it. We ate our ice creams and climbed up the tree and yes, we didn't use the front entrance to get into school. But smoking??!!

"No, we were not smoking sir. We don't smoke," those words came from both of us. "No, I could see very clearly, your hands were at your mouths, puffing away like big businessmen. Why then would you want to hide under that tree. You think I can't see?" Singham the madman went on.

"I'm going to give you both three lashes and then I'm going to call your parents. They have to know about this." My whole world fell to pieces. Honest to God, I did not smoke.

That tree we were under was not only across the football field, the window from which Singham claimed he was watching us from was at least another 100 metres from the opposite side of the football field from where we were at. He was at least 300 metres away, and yet he said he saw clearly that we were smoking. Plus, he didn't find any cigarettes on us, no matches, no lighter, he even sniffed our fingers. We didn't smell of smoke, but he was 100% convinced that he saw us smoking with his own two eyes! How could two 13-year olds argue with that?!!

No answer would be accepted as this lunatic was on an all-out campaign to catch students who were smoking in school. Of course there were those students, but we weren't part of it. Well, not until then at least.
So, we took our caning like little boys should and my parents, later that day arrived in school. My mother was horrified. Her 13-year old kid was supposedly caught for smoking. My dad began his transformation into King Kong, which I would find just so when I got home that evening.

Worse still, Singham announced his "prized catches" over the school PA system that day and the two of us were branded as smokers forever. At home, my siblings gave me the funny look. My mother was shouting on top of her voice all day, all week I think. My little sister Amy (she's always been a pain in the ass) went on,"Mummy's very angry. You! You! You!" Over and over again. Of course, my dad added a few more doses of pain when I got home that fine day, just to top it all off.

The following days I went to school, a different crowd began accepting me - the real smokers. "Don't worry, we always get that. Next time, do it where we do it. It's safer there. Come, I'll show you," the kid who was probably responsible for arranging my welcoming party said.

So, I was soon led to the "smokers' corner" , where those who "shared the same interest" gathered each day before school, during recess and after school. That was where I learned the art of inhaling cigarette smoke. Of course, a couple more cases followed and more canings came my way that year. But hell, I was already branded a smoker for nothing.

My smoking career took off from there and I've never looked back since. Sometimes we pitched in 20 or 30 sen each between three or four to get a pack of sevens, which costed 70 sen back then. In school, when I had the extra money and wanted it, a pack of Dunhill sevens would last a day, sometimes two.
Most of the time I did smoke, it was with friends and we did that mostly by buying lose sticks from coffee shops. I believe we did it not out of addiction, but out of rebellion. At least I did it for those reasons. Back then, I didn't really need to smoke. I probably, on average, smoked between three and 14 cigarettes a week, sometimes none at all.
Having finished school, getting those packs of sevens became important, so my first job at PJ Hilton not only satisfied that need, I graduated to 14s and later 20s. Now, I smoke a pack of 20s or two a day, but for the past 10 years it has been Mild Seven Lights.
Today, it is very much an addiction. Thank you very much Singham, for introducing me to this habit.
And may Fuzian's soul rest in peace. Al-fatihah for him.

You'll probably need a "moral of the story" bit right?
Be careful when making accusations. Also, for you school kids, be careful when hanging around under trees. For the Education Ministry, please make good eyesight compulsory in the hiring of new teachers and please, please, please also do make sure they register absolute negatives in tests for LSD.

P.S.: For definition of cigarette, look HERE .