degan ragbi
I never really played rugby all my life, much less a part of a team. But I like to watch rugby matches although not to the same degree as I do watch footie. I have played throw and catch of an American football, but I do dislike such a continental sports. I love to run because it gives you speed, ask me where do I get my Achilles tendonitis, that one day I combined my passion for young coconut and my love to run that I think that is the closest as I got of being a rugby player.
I go to a boarding school that fares miserably in the foods department. The food supposed to be nutritional but I guess it is only to a termites. Because there are fruit trees in the school compound I have started a branch of my syndicate gang to exploit the rich resources to our own benefit.
Here I would talk about one of our sortie that could have ended in a humiliating disaster. Usually between maghrib and isya all people would go to the mosque to hear one of us talk about stuffs that he don’t really know about, but I don’t blame him for thinking him to know everything. Teenagers, they are always full of idealism. They thought they could do everything when they haven’t known enough of the world, and look at them now. Almost all of them are happy enough if they can settle down and make kids, getting bellies protrude and complain about the state of the world, losing their idealism. Nobody really have any dream and then finally just follow the flow. ha ha why am I being so spiteful.
I figured that instead of listening to such a sorry talk from mouths that don’t know and also plant seeds on hatred about other people I should instead utilise time to go near the teacher quarters and get ourselves good source of coconuts – rich in mineral, full of excitement. The safest of sortie would consist of three or at most four personnel, so that night me and anu and munep gathered our courage that never lacking for our own pleasure.
We moved in the dark of the night, avoiding the street light, and instead walk in the silhouette of the tree shadows generated by the lights. There are several trees of acceptable height that we can reach their coconuts without using a metal pipe. While I twist and pull three nice young coconuts from the tree, anu and munep keep sentry to watch for incoming threat of danger. Never confront, always avoid- if there’s a slight sense of danger all of us would flee the scene for fear of being caught and get our names announced during the morning assembly. I don’t really care about my reputation that I think I don’t have, but I just don’t want to be known. I just want to left anonymous and nobody would disturb.
I finished getting them three coconuts in less than 3 minutes, but why is it so quiet. It just seems that it is so easy for us judging from our past experiences. There is no assistant principal turning on his car spotlight straight at us that make us scamper free, or at least a teacher passing by with a car at least. I never like it if it is so quiet. But we don’t care and instead moved away from point of action with care. Each of us have our own coconut in our arms and moved cautiously along the school hall because it is the least shone of territory, and the easiest to get to any hiding place ha ha ha.
Then suddenly we hear the sound of a motorbike coming right at us from behind. Puzi! We all know whose motorbike it is. The motorbike of the rule-inforcer, our warden that always likes to chain us. Puzi!, he always knows, Puzi! will always know about everything. But we don't expect him to know the most stealth of students' activity in the school; our nutrition dark syndicate. Puzi! is the one who caught me listenin’ to siti using raman’s walkman one day that Puzi! seizes it and saying no no you won’t get it back. Wth. Now I feel horribly indebted to raman I’m giving up my ipod for him, well that’s because I don’t like listening to ipod no more as well ha ha.
Anyways. Knowing that there is no way but to run because we already pass a possible hiding place, with coconuts in our arms we run as fast as we could towards the canteen.
For a moment during our desperate flight in my head flicked a thought; this is probably how to play rugby feels like.
We don’t know if Puzi! is still hot pursuing us but thinking if he catches us with coconuts it will be very shame on us in the morning assembly so I said put dooown the coconuts, leave them…trouble if he sees coconuts while we’re in the run. All of us touched down the coconuts in a dry drain and then we made ourselves to the classrooms that are empty and dark.
And wow I just felt that I scored in a rugby game, minus the fear of being caught. I kinda hope there are people in stadium everywhere cheering on us who have made it with touchdowns.
But then actually Puzi! is going somewhere else and wth that is such a scare. When we get our own breathes back we grab our coconuts and whack each of them to the pointy edge of a concrete recreational chair because we don’t have a proper machete to cut their butts. After drinking the tasty coconut water we’d whack them really hard on the hard tarmac so that the young coconut would break and we can devour the juicy pulp. Nice.
But I think the assistant principal actually knows about our regular underground activity anyways because in one a morning assembly the assistant principal would talk about how he’d like to plant fruit trees around the school compound because he just can’t take it anymore because he knows some people has been taking his coconuts. But to make ourselves feel good we always say that it is nobody’s coconut, because it is grown on the school compound which is the government’s land and I think everybody’s parents’ pay taxes. Right.
Very nice.
I go to a boarding school that fares miserably in the foods department. The food supposed to be nutritional but I guess it is only to a termites. Because there are fruit trees in the school compound I have started a branch of my syndicate gang to exploit the rich resources to our own benefit.
Here I would talk about one of our sortie that could have ended in a humiliating disaster. Usually between maghrib and isya all people would go to the mosque to hear one of us talk about stuffs that he don’t really know about, but I don’t blame him for thinking him to know everything. Teenagers, they are always full of idealism. They thought they could do everything when they haven’t known enough of the world, and look at them now. Almost all of them are happy enough if they can settle down and make kids, getting bellies protrude and complain about the state of the world, losing their idealism. Nobody really have any dream and then finally just follow the flow. ha ha why am I being so spiteful.
I figured that instead of listening to such a sorry talk from mouths that don’t know and also plant seeds on hatred about other people I should instead utilise time to go near the teacher quarters and get ourselves good source of coconuts – rich in mineral, full of excitement. The safest of sortie would consist of three or at most four personnel, so that night me and anu and munep gathered our courage that never lacking for our own pleasure.
We moved in the dark of the night, avoiding the street light, and instead walk in the silhouette of the tree shadows generated by the lights. There are several trees of acceptable height that we can reach their coconuts without using a metal pipe. While I twist and pull three nice young coconuts from the tree, anu and munep keep sentry to watch for incoming threat of danger. Never confront, always avoid- if there’s a slight sense of danger all of us would flee the scene for fear of being caught and get our names announced during the morning assembly. I don’t really care about my reputation that I think I don’t have, but I just don’t want to be known. I just want to left anonymous and nobody would disturb.
I finished getting them three coconuts in less than 3 minutes, but why is it so quiet. It just seems that it is so easy for us judging from our past experiences. There is no assistant principal turning on his car spotlight straight at us that make us scamper free, or at least a teacher passing by with a car at least. I never like it if it is so quiet. But we don’t care and instead moved away from point of action with care. Each of us have our own coconut in our arms and moved cautiously along the school hall because it is the least shone of territory, and the easiest to get to any hiding place ha ha ha.
Then suddenly we hear the sound of a motorbike coming right at us from behind. Puzi! We all know whose motorbike it is. The motorbike of the rule-inforcer, our warden that always likes to chain us. Puzi!, he always knows, Puzi! will always know about everything. But we don't expect him to know the most stealth of students' activity in the school; our nutrition dark syndicate. Puzi! is the one who caught me listenin’ to siti using raman’s walkman one day that Puzi! seizes it and saying no no you won’t get it back. Wth. Now I feel horribly indebted to raman I’m giving up my ipod for him, well that’s because I don’t like listening to ipod no more as well ha ha.
Anyways. Knowing that there is no way but to run because we already pass a possible hiding place, with coconuts in our arms we run as fast as we could towards the canteen.
For a moment during our desperate flight in my head flicked a thought; this is probably how to play rugby feels like.
We don’t know if Puzi! is still hot pursuing us but thinking if he catches us with coconuts it will be very shame on us in the morning assembly so I said put dooown the coconuts, leave them…trouble if he sees coconuts while we’re in the run. All of us touched down the coconuts in a dry drain and then we made ourselves to the classrooms that are empty and dark.
And wow I just felt that I scored in a rugby game, minus the fear of being caught. I kinda hope there are people in stadium everywhere cheering on us who have made it with touchdowns.
But then actually Puzi! is going somewhere else and wth that is such a scare. When we get our own breathes back we grab our coconuts and whack each of them to the pointy edge of a concrete recreational chair because we don’t have a proper machete to cut their butts. After drinking the tasty coconut water we’d whack them really hard on the hard tarmac so that the young coconut would break and we can devour the juicy pulp. Nice.
But I think the assistant principal actually knows about our regular underground activity anyways because in one a morning assembly the assistant principal would talk about how he’d like to plant fruit trees around the school compound because he just can’t take it anymore because he knows some people has been taking his coconuts. But to make ourselves feel good we always say that it is nobody’s coconut, because it is grown on the school compound which is the government’s land and I think everybody’s parents’ pay taxes. Right.
Very nice.
Comments
-bob likely n bob carter
nasib baik mapau takde dos... kalo tak abes la ko.
hahahaha
-org buruk main bek tara celos pnya