The Unfamiliar Ground of Male-male Bonding (Part II)
by YBLalat

“Semua pelajar dikehendaki turun ke gelanggang bola keranjang untuk upacara bersalaman dengan pelajar Form 5. Semua pelajar dikehendaki turun ke gelanggang bola keranjang sekarang, atas arahan Ketua Pelajar. Sekian, terima kasih.”

Almost immediately after that, the hostel siren was rolled out and the loudspeaker then started to spin a sad and slow moving encore from a nasyid group. The hostel west stairs were beginning to be crowded with juniors and seniors, walking side by side in large groups, talking with each other, and laughing at the sight of others. The hallways were filled noises of wild cheers and nearly synchronized footsteps with the company of the nasyid song at the back. Looking from above, the boys’ hostel looked like an emptying refugee camp, with its residents marching to the beat of a fallen enemy’s drummer.

“Kau turun tak, ‘Lat?”
“Turun – siapa yang nak miss tengok kau menangis, kan?”
“Haha, kita tengok siapa yang meleleh first.”

It was the night before the last day of school. Tomorrow the year-end 3-month school holiday will begin and while some will embark on a long but rewarded journey homeward, either by express bus or by their parents’ car, some will be stuck there at school, struggling to fight for their future with pencils and pens in their hands. Boys and girls alike were rushing to the basketball court; some were lagging behind as they were busier chatting than walking, while some were walking as fast as the crowd would let them walk pass through. Some spirits were up while some were down. Many were anxious to go home after a 4-month stay at the hostel while others were more worried about finally going home with not much of their 5-year investment in high school.

The boys began crowding the basketball court while the girls were in the school hall. Each one of them lined up in a single, continuous line from front to end all the way from the Form 5 seniors to the Form 1 juniors. Boys began to talk even louder as they formed the line, but the girls began to unexpectedly somber down. The sad nasyid song was still in the background, just as loud and as poignant as before. The strong spotlights were beamed up and the bulky loudspeakers were toned down. The master of the ceremony then took his cue and coughed a gentle ahem.

“Assalamualaikum semua. Malam ni malam terakhir kita bersama dengan abang-abang dan kakak-kakak Form 5 kita. Esok, bila kita semua balik bercuti, diaorang akan mula ambik exam SPM. So, upacara malam ni, upacara yang ringkas, yang memang tiap-tiap tahun pihak pengawas buat. Majlis bersalam-salaman ni, bermaaf-maafan ni, buatlah yang ikhlas, at least kita boleh tolong abang-abang dan kakak-kakak kita setakat mana yang boleh. Sekian…oh nanti dulu. Budak Form 1 lelaki tunggu kejap lepas ni – susun kerusi kat dewan. Okay, sekian, terima kasih.”

As soon as he stepped off from the microphone, the nasyid song was then played even louder, only to drown the sound of the boys talking with each other, probably questioning the sincerity of the speech by the master of the ceremony. It is purely ridiculous to just forgive and forget the seniors for what they have done to us all these years, they’d say to themselves, and just before their SPM tomorrow? They have no shame. Oh dear friends, you should know better that sin is greatly feared, even by the most innocent individual, especially when there is a great ordeal ahead. It is miraculous what SPM can do. Begging is cheap when your future is at risk. Swallowing your pride is easier than keeping it in.

“Kau jangan nangis, ‘Lat.”
“Kau ah yang nangis, kau kan banyak buat dosa kat junior.”
“Kau tak nak mintak maaf kat aku ‘Lat?”
“Aku ada buat dosa apa kat kau?”
“Wah, kerek nampak.”
“Yakin tidak bersalah.”
“Mintak je ah maaf, nanti clear sikit akaun kau nak ambik SPM.”
“Apa aku pulak? Kau ah yang mintak maaf kat aku.”
“Aku?”
“Haah?”
“Yakin suci.”
“Blah ah lu ‘Rip.”

The first influx of seniors coming from the front end of the line had started to reach the spot where Arif and I were standing. They were our batchmates mostly from the Sigma and Omega classes, queuing up in small groups of very close friends. These Sigma and Omega cliques were known among the juniors to be a very heartless bunch of wankers, not willing to accept any excuses for not doing whatever they had asked the juniors to do. Even in the middle of the night or at the busiest hour in the morning before class starts, they would call up unwilling juniors from their dorms and bully them for the silliest reasons. Massage their back and feet, do their week-long laundry, be their punching bag and feed them breakfast are just to name the few and basic bully cases. There were also the more creative seniors and their never-before-thought-of bully tasks, but none survived their school disciplinary hearings. Now, all that were left after the bad and tough bullying ones were kicked out of school were the wussy and geeky seniors.

“Lat, aku mintak maaf ah kalau aku ada pernah buat silap kat kau, okay?”
“Eh, Arif Azhari, lelaki gagah kelas 5 Alpha, meminta maaf?”
“Serius ah sikit woi. Aku serius ni.”
“Ish, geli ah. Sorry ah, aku tak boleh ah feeling-feeling ni.”
“Oi, kimak, aku serius ni. Ni bukan just for the sake of SPM, tahu?”
“Ye, ye, aku maafkan kau.”
“Habis…tu je?”
“Aku maafkan kau dengan sepenuh hati, boleh?”
“Sial ah.”
“Habis, apa kau nak aku cakap?”
“Kau cakap tak ikhlas ah.”
“Ye, ye, aku ikhlas.”
“Sudah? Macam tu je?”
“Habis?”
“Kau tak nak mintak maaf?”
“Oh! Mintak maaf sama kau…cakap ah.”
“Paham-paham ah.”
“Ye lah, macam makwe-pakwe lah kan. Awek cakap ‘I love you’, pakwe mesti cakap ‘I love you too’ balik, kan? Tak gitu, Arip? Kalau tak nanti, awek marah-marah kan?”
“Bila masa aku jadi awek kau?”
“Eleh, you ni, cute lah pulak bila marah.”
“Damn.”
“Haha…kenapa nak mintak maaf sama aku lak, ‘Rip? Kita cool apa?”
“Maksud kau, kita ni okay ah? Takde gaduh semua?”
“Bila masa kita gaduh?”
“Takde ah, maksud aku, kita geng ah, kawan baik. Kalau jumpa balik bila dah keluar sekolah nanti, dah ada anak bini semua, aku boleh ah peluk kau, eh Lat?”
“What in the hell nak peluk aku?”
“Apa? Best friends tak boleh peluk?”
“Ah, man, gelinya perkataan tu.”
“Perkataan apa? ‘Peluk’?”
“'Best friends'.”
“Apa gelinya? Aku rasa 'peluk' lagi geli dari 'best friends'.”
“'Peluk' memang sah ah gay, tapi 'best friend' tu…ugh.”
“So, aku ni bukan best friend kau ah, eh?”
“Aku menolak untuk menjawab soalan diatas. Terima kasih.”
“Hoi, jawab ah.”
“Tak nak.”
“Hoi, jawab ah.”
“Tak nak, tak nak.”
“Kita duduk sekelas bertahun-tahun, sama-sama makan kat dewan makan, takkan ah...”
“Aku dah cakap dah, aku bukan yang feeling-feeling macam ni.”
“Kau tahu tak, lepas SPM nanti, kita berhenti sekolah, kita tak berjumpa lagi?”
“Tahu.”
“So?”
“Life goes on, man. Shit happens. That’s it.”
“Semua yang kau kenal kat Mozac ni, kau tak jumpa balik, tahu?”
“Tahu.”
“Kau tak rasa ke kat sini 5 tahun ni the best years of your life?”
“Rasa.”
“So?”
“So apa, ‘Rip?”
“Kau nak cakap kat anak kau, Apak dulu sekolah kat Melaka, tapi takde kenal sapa-sapa kawan pun. Kau nak cakap macam tu?”
“Anak-anak aku semua genius, nanti kerja sibuk-sibuk, mana nak tahu semua ni.”
“Ada macam tu…”
“Kau kenapa ni, ‘Rip?”
“Takde ah, kau je ha yang bangang.”
“Kau nak aku cakap apa? Arif, kaulah kawan baik aku sampai mati?”
“Diam ah.”
“Arif, oh Arif, kita ‘kan berpisah sejurus lagi. Biarlah kukorbankan daraku…”
“Diam ah puki.”
“Oh, Arif, kau yang kucingtaik…”
“Puki ah lu, ‘Lat.”

That was the last time that I saw Arif. That was also the first time since I’ve known him for so long that I saw him crying. It wasn’t really crying per se, but rather small spontaneous tears rolling down his cheeks. In fact, he was hugging me when he started to cry. He didn’t say anything or acted differently when we hugged (well it was actually him who was hugging me with both of his arms tugging against my back while I just stood there waiting for him to finish) and he made not the slightest sound that he was indeed crying. Once he had enough of hugging me, he immediately dropped down his arms and walked away to the next person in line, not looking back at me ever since. I guess he was a bit sad that I didn’t see him as anyone special in my life. Maybe he felt a bit betrayed by his feelings towards me or a bit under stress from all the SPM preparation.

To me, Arif was just another familiar face in a crowd of many strangers, and I have no regrets whatsoever of thinking so of him. I am sorry if that hurts, but it’s the truth.