CONFIDENTIAL 1 LG/JUNE 2024/ELC151/ (SET 1)

PRL ENTRY 2:
“Friends for Life” by James Ooi

I could see them ending up fighting each other soon. Yeah. What a way to end twenty years of
friendship from the time we were in kindergarten till now, a few years after university graduation.

I could hear them arguing. Siva was berating Roslan for having an affair with this married woman and
well, telling him to stay away from trouble and not flirt with fire. But in the argument that followed,
Roslan lost his temper.

Roslan shouted at Siva, "Shut the hell up lah macha. Mind your own freaking business, okay or not?
Who are you to tell me I’m wrong and whatnot? Kau jangan lupa dulu tu, if I didn’t save you back then,
you’d be dead meat already! Seriously, just piss off and don’t show your face in front of me again lah!"

Though visibly angered and deeply wounded at what Roslan said to him, Siva just walked off and
didn't answer nor did he turn back. It was finally the last straw for him.

Ever since we had started going out again after a few years of absence because each had gone to
their own separate universities, we had changed but for some of us even more. Roslan, in particular,
had started to act distant towards us.

Sad to say that two decades of friendship finally had to end today. Ours was a friendship that was
based on the fact that we lived in the same housing estate in Petaling Jaya and the fact that we had
grown up as neighbours and friends who attended the same schools throughout our childhood and
teenage years.

We were teammates in the local football team battling other teams not just on the field but standing
by each other in some of the occasional fist fights which ensued, no matter whether we lost or won.
And there were many times when we came to each other’s aid when either one of us was in trouble.
Together we became known as the three musketeers.

Funny, actually, it was. We were bosom friends coming from the three main races that made up
Malaysia. A Chinese, Indian and a Malay. It’s rather rare these days in Malaysia. But twenty years
ago, this was not uncommon, and we didn't have the racial segregation you see commonly occurring
these days.

I guess when it comes to friendship, perhaps race does matter, or does it not? Seems it does in this
case. Sad to say. Seems that it does.

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~ *** ~

I still remember my first day at the kindergarten. Mom had left me there alone. In the class of thirty
other kids, some of whom were getting red eyed and a few were already bawling out in utmost misery,
I felt miserable and didn't know what to do.

Suddenly this dark-skinned tall boy looked at me and said, "You want some sweets?" Offering me a
Hacks, he smiled at me. I had never had a Hacks before, and I popped it in my mouth without much
thought. Within seconds the burning sensation hit my mouth and I spat the sweet out onto my right
palm.

You know, for a kid aged five, spicy things normally consumed by adults are really unbearable for our
delicate palate. Perhaps you may have forgotten this, but I remembered it well because that was how
we first met up.

I heard a laugh coming from my right side. I turned irritably to the right and there was this small sized
Malay boy laughing at me. Pissed off, I handed him my barely eaten sweet saying, "Not funny, you
try lah" With that the Malay boy popped the sweet into his mouth and his face suddenly contorted,
"Yucks!!!"

Then we both turned onto the Indian boy and spent the next thirty minutes chasing him around the
class screaming wildly. By the end of the day, we became friends, and this was to be a friendship that
would last the next twenty years.

Soon we found out later that we were neighbours and that we had been living near each other. In the
afternoons, we'd go to Siva's house for tea and his mom would fry curry puffs and fried bananas and
sometimes we'd head off to Roslan's home for some pengat pisang and later head off to watch the
football game being played in the nearby field.

We hung out practically every day. As we reached our teens, we looked at girls together and blew
wolf whistles at the girls every afternoon as they were walking past the football field after school.
Friendship was just based on our liking for each other, common interests, and the fact that we shared
so much history over the years.

One evening, when we were about fifteen years old, Roslan and I were walking back home from
school, and we saw several gangsters surrounding Siva and beating him up. Roslan immediately
called out some of his Malay kampong pals who were walking with us from school, and we ran to the
field with a crowd of ten other people behind us. Roslan shouted at them, "Woi!! Kurang ajar!! That's
my pal! You better leave him alone or I'll get the whole kampong after you. This is our area!!"
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Like the cowards that they were, seeing all of us came running after them to save Siva, the hoodlums
immediately ran away with their tails between their legs. Siva was left battered and bruised but at
least he was alive. At that point in time, seeing all that transpire, I really felt that ours was a friendship
that transcended even racial barriers. Looking back, we were brothers in spirit even though we were
of different races.

Each of us that is.

~ *** ~

A few weeks had passed since that incident.

It seemed to me that Siva and Roslan had finally ended our two decades of friendship. I said 'we'
because, in a way, the friendship that we had was a tri-party friendship. We did a lot of things together:
clubbing, football, eating, and hanging out together.

So, when the other two ended it, it seemed to me that I had lost both my friends.

That fateful evening, I met up with Roslan at the football field to talk with him and try to patch things
up. It was late. About eight in the evening. Slightly dark and most people had left the field for dinner
and prayers, I guess.

Without telling both of them, I told Siva to come too and meet me at the same place at about half past
eight later. I thought that I would try and reconcile the both of them. But I guess I could only try.

Roslan and I, we talked about the earlier incident and the clash between Siva and him. Roslan sighed,
"I feel sad too. I just was too pissed when he became nosy about my relationship with Mas. It's my
personal matter and I know the risks of having a relationship with a married woman. But it's my choice
and he should have just left it at that."

It was a dark night that day. No moonlight at all.

Suddenly we became aware that a group of men had surrounded us. We could see some were holding
bottles, and a few had sharpened parangs. Seeing the glinting blades in their hands, we sensed that
we were in danger.

One of them spoke, "Bastard! You shouldn't have slept with another man's wife!!!" With that they
started beating us. I tried to ward off the blows by putting my arms in front of me but to no avail. I felt
myself losing consciousness with every blow that fell onto my head.

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Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that Roslan was lying and writhing on the ground in pain. I saw one
of the men lifting up his parang trying to slash Roslan. I tried to reach Roslan to help him somehow
but in my battered state, I could only scream for help and look on helplessly.

But as the parang swung towards Roslan, I saw a dark silhouette of a man dive over Roslan's body
to cover him. The man took the brunt and full force of the blow meant for Roslan. I could hear him
groan and the gruesome sound of his body being slashed by the parang. Despite being slashed over
and over again, he refused to leave Roslan and continued to cover him with his own body.

Sirens blared.

Apparently, someone had alerted the police. The men ran for their lives. Under the headlights of the
police cars parked around us, I finally noticed that the man who was protecting Roslan was Siva.
From afar, I saw Siva bleeding profusely from the many slashes on his back. Roslan was wailing the
whole time he was holding Siva in his arms. Roslan kept saying he was sorry to Siva.

Murmuring with great effort, Siva said, "Bro… Tonight... We don’t owe each other anything anymore,
my friend..."

At that moment, we all just lost it and we just kept calling Siva’s name because we knew that’d be the
last time we could do that.

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