November 29, 2003

Jit

Last night, I went out for a drink with my friend Charles. And in one of our trivial conversation, we kind of mentioned about a friend named Jit. Jit is an old friend of mine, but Charles happened to get acquainted with him only fairly recently.

This Jit, he was in the same school bus as I was and that was how I knew him. Used to be a cute little chubby kid. I remember he was just a 7 year old when came riding with the bus. He had a vast forehead and a set of beady eyes. Always with a smile. He also had a falsetto voice and the guys would tease him for having such a pussy voice (you know kids can be cruel)

And because he had such a mushy and mama’s boy character, most of us would bully him. We would pinch his fat cheeks and mess up with his neatly combed hair. You know, stuff like that. But because he was such a bubbly kid, he wouldn’t give a damn about our mischiefs and would normally shrug it off with a cute smile. But there were times when he gets mad.

I remember when he gets mad, he would deliberately blush up his face (probably by holding his breath or something) and violently shake his boy tits, as if he was at the verge of imploding, and then he’d growl and say some shit funny things like “Don’t make me angry!… or I will turn into a werewolf!”

I guess he learned that from some stupid TV program. We’d normally feign ourselves being real scared and when he was content that his acts were drawing him some intended results, we’d smack his head, mess up his hair again and beckon for him to turn into a fucking wolf.

But of course, he couldn’t. He’d continue to issue more threats and if we don’t stop, he’d turn apeshit and start to assault anyone nears him. I saw him did that many times before. He’d close his eyes and spin his hands like vertical propeller. Those who weren’t quite enough to pull a distance off him would get smacked by Jit’s swinging hands. I had seen kids twice his size getting mowed down just like that. It was needless to say, far more dangerous than a real feral wolf.

The only solution to neutralize that blind propeller hands stance was to give him a kick square on the chest with your body stretched back. That would usually send him flying backwards and had him land on the floor hard. Then you can choose to pin him down and slap that guy till he no longer believes that he’s a wolf…

And if you manage to do that, he will never mess with you again. But his propeller hands had always been the most feared body weapon against even kids twice his age. One of the kids that always got a boner from Jit’s propeller hands was a kid named Ray. Ray was very much smaller than Jit, but what he lacked in size, made up for his intelligence… (and that’s why he was with us seniors to pull some mischief on Jit)

There was once, 3 of us (me being the leader) played truant during our school’s sports day event and walked home. But halfway through the journey, Jit decided to give up walking and flagged a bus home. And in the event of doing so, he told everything about our plans to the bus driver and almost got us into trouble (we had to hide and only flee later). Since that day, Ray and I called him ‘traitor’ and increased the frequency of harassment on him.

Good times… and that was many years ago. Jit would remain as one of our closest friend and an equally good wrestling dummy. (but in the later years, after I quit the school bus, we kinda separated our ways…)

About a year ago, while on our way to vacation at Thailand, Charles wanted to introduce me to a friend of his that resides in the area, also named Jit. When Charles told me that he was a Malaysian, came from the same secondary school as we were and was 4 years our junior, I was pretty sure that it was him. But I wasn’t quite sure because for one, the place was foreign, and then, I haven’t met Jit for about 13 years. I only managed to confirm that it was him when I finally got to meet him…

It was indeed him. With the round face (though not chubby anymore) and the same bubbly character. Same set of beady eyes. But he looked completely different from the werewolf kid we used to tease. He now has tattoos all over his hands and is now sporting a real man’s voice. He wasn’t as faggoty as he used to be as a kid…

At first, he could not recognize me. But when I told him about our school bus number and my name, it all finally came back to him… and then we gave each other a firm handshake and renewed our friendship again that night with plenty of drinks. It was like a great reunion with a very old friend.

michaelooi  | characters  | 

The commenting function has been disabled.