Finally, I'm back. In case everyone's wondering, I'm talking about the AUN Educational Forum and Young Speakers' Contest held on the 20th to 27th of May 2008. I tell you it was a wonderful experience. I made new friends, had a great time, eat good food, yada-yada-yada...
Anyway, can't get carried away writing about that experience when I still have something else to do. I'll probably write about it in the near future, orderly this time.
Anyway, I'm here to share with you something that binds us people of ASEAN-our ridiculously scary ghost stories. Yeah, I know. We share stories of ghosts coming out at night, accompanied by the sweet smell of jasmine and appearing in toilets or the streetside, or even in your bedroom. The Malaysians have their Pontianak, the Indonesians their Sundal Bolong, the Filipinos their Aswang and so forth.
Of course, these stories have such an effect on our mind compared to the Westerners, probably because of the affinity of the peoples of Southeast Asia with the mystic and our ghosts being powerful in nature, compared to the cutboard cliches of Western spooks. Just thinking about this topic would make anyone sully their trousers.
Not that I have been through it or anything...
Anyway, moving on. Here's an example of a story that is very famous in Malaysia. The names may change according to place, but the formula is pretty much the same.
Harun cursed as he stared at his watch. It's already 11.30. 'I'm late,' he said to himself. He was too busy playing Playstation 2 at his friend's house that he didn't notice the time.
'My dad is so going to kill me.' He stood at the bus stop, a dilapidated one, where every part of it is covered with rust. He didn't like the look of it, especially with the sinister full moon shining above them. He half-expected a werewolf to jump out of nowhere, but shuddered to think what would happen next.
Of course, he didn't have a choice and walked towards the bus stop. Harun stared at his watch. Ten minutes, fifteen minutes, twenty minutes...but still, no bus in sight.
He almost gave up and pondered calling his dad when he saw a light glimmered from afar. He got to his feet. It came closer, to bus, slowly, bus moving closer and closer.
As the bus stopped in front of him, he immediately hopped in. He couldn't believe his luck! He probably got the last bus home. Of course, there are some things that concerned him as he took his seat. One, where is the bus conductor? Two, where is the driver? Three, why is the bus moving by itself?
He cried out, but then remembered something. He has heard of this story before. 'Yes,' he thought, laughing faintly. 'The driver and the conductor are behind this bus, pushing it. Well, I'd better go see what's going on.' He ran to the back, hoping to see two men pushing the bus. He saw nothing. There was no one pushing the bus, yet it moves by itself.
Harun knew he was in trouble, and ran towards the door. To his dismay, the door was shut. The windows were shut. Harun realised, as he slumped onto a chair, that he was going be on that ride for a very long time...
Phew! Finally I'm done with this. Now I'll definitely sleep with my night lights and radio on.
No comments:
Post a Comment