damaged and we went to Mandai police station to make a report. The occupants of the other car were an old lady and a very young and attractive girl who I learnt was the lady’s granddaughter. The old lady kept abusing me and blaming me for the accident. I remained silent. What else could I do? The young woman was embarrassed and told me that her grandmother was upset as their car was less than three months’ old. I sniggered and showed her the inside of my car. The plastic covers were still on the seats. When I told her my car was less than 24 hours old, she burst out laughing.
Despite the circumstances, I was taken by her and we exchanged telephone numbers. I had to give her Ah Teng’s number as we didn’t have a telephone at home in those days. The old lady saw what we were doing and her granddaughter explained that we needed each other’s phone numbers to exchange insurance details later. Her grandmother continued to glare at me throughout the whole episode. I dated the young woman, Shanti, on a few occasions but it didn’t work out. Ah Teng always said I deliberately caused the accident to befriend her.
After we were done at the police station, I was too scared to drive the damaged Austin home. So we went instead to Ah Teng’s house, left the car there and took his car to my place. Both of us were extremely worried about my father’s reaction. As usual, he was sitting at the corridor reading the Malayalam newspapers. When he saw me, he smiled. “Did you both enjoy driving the car?” he asked. We kept quiet. He studied my face and turned serious. “What is it, son? Why are you looking so worried?”
I told him that we had met with an accident and the car was damaged. I braced myself for a tongue lashing, but he only asked if Ah Teng and I were injured. Neither of us was. He laughed and said: “Son, it’s only a car. What is important is that the both of you are not hurt.” I will never forget that response. That’s the sort of example my father set for me, and it’s always been a hard act to follow.
The car was taken for repairs and I was told in no uncertain terms by everyone who cared for me to enrol in a driving school. But when you have had such an embarrassing accident, it tends to stick with you for years. People would jokingly refer to it all the time when the issue of driving or the topic of cars came up in our social or family gatherings. The ribbing got worse because, after taking a few lessons with Lambert Driving School, the instructor refused to give me any more lessons. He said I was a dangerous driver who drove as though there were no other cars on the road. The few lessons that I took had, however, given me confidence. Another good friend, Mark, took over the responsibility of teaching me to drive. After the accident, Ah Teng lost the nerve to teach me. I finally passed my driving test on my third attempt.
I started reading law at Singapore University in May, 1966. Before the course started, new students had to attend an interview with the sub-dean of the Law faculty, Mr Tommy Koh. At my interview, I met a former classmate from RI. She had also come for the same interview. When it was over, we foolishly decided to go to the Union House for a drink. As soon as we sat down and ordered our drinks, we knew we had made a big mistake. We were surrounded by senior students who were waiting for innocent ‘freshies’ to rag. They called it ‘orientation’ as ragging freshmen was illegal. Whatever name they put on it, it was bullying. You were asked to do very silly things to be humiliated. For instance, you had to stoop when you walked past a so-called senior gentleman who was shorter than you. Ragging officially started when the term began, but if you happened to be caught in the premises before the term started, your ‘orientation’ would begin immediately.
My friend and I didn’t know what a foolish move we had made when we sat down and ordered our drinks. The drinks came and before we
Despite the circumstances, I was taken by her and we exchanged telephone numbers. I had to give her Ah Teng’s number as we didn’t have a telephone at home in those days. The old lady saw what we were doing and her granddaughter explained that we needed each other’s phone numbers to exchange insurance details later. Her grandmother continued to glare at me throughout the whole episode. I dated the young woman, Shanti, on a few occasions but it didn’t work out. Ah Teng always said I deliberately caused the accident to befriend her.
After we were done at the police station, I was too scared to drive the damaged Austin home. So we went instead to Ah Teng’s house, left the car there and took his car to my place. Both of us were extremely worried about my father’s reaction. As usual, he was sitting at the corridor reading the Malayalam newspapers. When he saw me, he smiled. “Did you both enjoy driving the car?” he asked. We kept quiet. He studied my face and turned serious. “What is it, son? Why are you looking so worried?”
I told him that we had met with an accident and the car was damaged. I braced myself for a tongue lashing, but he only asked if Ah Teng and I were injured. Neither of us was. He laughed and said: “Son, it’s only a car. What is important is that the both of you are not hurt.” I will never forget that response. That’s the sort of example my father set for me, and it’s always been a hard act to follow.
The car was taken for repairs and I was told in no uncertain terms by everyone who cared for me to enrol in a driving school. But when you have had such an embarrassing accident, it tends to stick with you for years. People would jokingly refer to it all the time when the issue of driving or the topic of cars came up in our social or family gatherings. The ribbing got worse because, after taking a few lessons with Lambert Driving School, the instructor refused to give me any more lessons. He said I was a dangerous driver who drove as though there were no other cars on the road. The few lessons that I took had, however, given me confidence. Another good friend, Mark, took over the responsibility of teaching me to drive. After the accident, Ah Teng lost the nerve to teach me. I finally passed my driving test on my third attempt.
I started reading law at Singapore University in May, 1966. Before the course started, new students had to attend an interview with the sub-dean of the Law faculty, Mr Tommy Koh. At my interview, I met a former classmate from RI. She had also come for the same interview. When it was over, we foolishly decided to go to the Union House for a drink. As soon as we sat down and ordered our drinks, we knew we had made a big mistake. We were surrounded by senior students who were waiting for innocent ‘freshies’ to rag. They called it ‘orientation’ as ragging freshmen was illegal. Whatever name they put on it, it was bullying. You were asked to do very silly things to be humiliated. For instance, you had to stoop when you walked past a so-called senior gentleman who was shorter than you. Ragging officially started when the term began, but if you happened to be caught in the premises before the term started, your ‘orientation’ would begin immediately.
My friend and I didn’t know what a foolish move we had made when we sat down and ordered our drinks. The drinks came and before we
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