Security


The wind picked up momentum, swirling up sand that made their eyes blink. 

The change in the weather came so sudden that it threw Ting Kok and Mok Lan off guard. A storm was imminent but they were many blocks away from their apartment. Ting Kok gazed up furtively and saw that scudding black clouds had obscured the moon. He inadvertently tightened his arms around Tai Tai's pudgy body and the child let out a surprised whimper. Mok Lan, carrying Weng Weng, their youngest child in one arm, fished out a towel from her bag and struggled to cover the baby's delicate body against the the wind that whipped her hair around her face.  Ah Hui, the eldest child, was walking closely to Ting Kok's side bucking the wind, her hand lifting the dangling hem of his coat over her head.

Tucked under Ting Kok's lapel in the crook of his muscular arms, Tai Tai was insulated from the falling plumes of drizzle. He buried his face into the man's chest and his nervousness was stilled by the warmth it exuded. Ting Kok's chest was so broad, and Tai Tai felt as if he were embracing a tree trunk which tapered all the way up to the sky, shielding him from all manner of dangers with his thick canopy. The rise and fall of Ting Kok's steps sent a sensation similar to that of a rocking cradle into Tai Tai's realm of consciousness, which induced sleepiness in him. Colourful street lights bobbed and swayed around him, and the droning sounds of traffic gradually lapsed into a soft, quiet hum . The lids over his eyes became heavier and heavier and he finally drifted into slumber.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Creative Writing Workshop

Image
I attended a creative writing workshop in Kota Kinabalu, Sabah last Saturday. It was organized by Jude Day, president of Society of Performing Arts Kota Kinabalu Sabah(SPARKS), The invited speaker was Robert Raymer, a Sarawak-based American writer who is a lecturer of creative writing at Universiti Sarawak Malaysia. He is the author of 'Lovers and Strangers Revisited', 'Tropical Affairs', 'The Boy Who Shot Santa' and 'Spirit of Malaysia'. It only took me ten minutes to get to Wisma Anglican, the workshop venue from my hotel on shanks's pony. I felt honored to have met Mr. Robert Raymer in person.He exuded a quiet air of confidence and patience. I bought a copy of his 'Lovers and Strangers Revisited' and got it autographed by him. I was thrilled and could not help smiling from ear to ear. I picked up a lot of knowledge during the workshop. First, Robert Raymer expounded the essence of creative writing.Next, he showed us how to organiz...
Read more

Article on My Art Lessons

Image
The title is originally 'A Realisation As An Overaged Art Student' but it was changed to something cringeworthy. Many young children between the ages of six to fifteen hunched over the tables in the sitting room, sketching and painting.   At the age of forty-five, I was by far the oldest student, overweight, too, and somewhat shabby looking.   Sitting in an inconspicuous corner, under a freezing air conditioner, I surfed the Inter­net on my ipad to hide my discomfort. One by one, more kids poked their heads around the door, entered the house barefoot and took their seemingly pre-assigned positions in the sitting room. When Vaz, the elegant art teacher in her late fifties arrived, she frowned at where I was sitting. “This is not where you sit,” said the lecturer cum artist, while beckoning me to follow her into a little room beside her office.   She handed me a beginner kit and frowned again when I told her that I had forgotten to bring my coloured penc...
Read more

My Life as a Boarder at St. Patrick's

The first time I came to Kuching was in 1990. Failing to secure a place in government schools after the SPM, I enrolled in the sixth  form  at the now defunct school on Stampin Road, St. Patrick's. It was my first time away from the comfort of home, and I was staying in the school ’s  wooden boarding house, naturally fe eling  emotionally challenged. In the first few months of my stay, I was wrought with unmitigated homesickness, which sapped my confidence, energy, and optimism for life. My weight plunged, and it took a toll on my health. One time, I was so delirious with fever that the world was almost dead to me. My fellow boarders took turns looking after me, bringing me food, sponging my feverish forehead, and washing my sweat-soiled clothes. I finally came to my senses when a boy named Simon  warned me that if I continued letting my emotions control me, I would disappoint my parents. Like me, he had come all the way from Miri to study. He...
Read more