THE FALL

That monday morning, three weeks ago, I rode my motorbike along Astana road to get my favourite paper.There are quite a few newspaper vendors along Astana road. It has been my routine now since my retirement from service last September to get a copy of the local newspaper to update myself with the happenings around and at the same time pick up one or two packets of nasi lemak for my breakfast. Nasi lemak has been my favourite for my morning break. It is being sold along Astana road too.

It was raining that morning and the road condition was quite slippery. I could use my car to get the papers but i didn't. Riding my Jaguh bike seems to be my choice. I could move fast and avoid being caught in the early morning jam.

After getting the papers, I tried to make a turn towards the kampungs. I slowed down my bike in the middle of the road, applied the brake and ready to turn. But then I could not control my bike. I lost balance and so..down I go...bangggg. My bike fell and I followed, in the middle of the road. Vehicles passing by but it seems nobody is going to stop , so I quickly pick-up my bike and pushed it to the road side.

I looked at my right hand and there's blood flowing, ahhh...its a deep scratch caused by the road. I started the engine and moved on to my next destination...Klinik Kota Raya.

Upon reaching the clinic I felt the severe pain at my right leg. I could not even move my leg. So I have to hold on to the wall of the shoplot and move very slowly. The doctor at the clinic looked at my hand and leg and give necessary treatment. I was lucky when the doctor said there no fracture or whatsoever, just a minor sprain/pain at the muscle. I was given the medicine for relieving the pain.

The fall that morning reminised my previous fall that happened long time ago. It happened during early 60s. I think that was in 1961. That time I stayed with my family in a rented house at Simpang Tiga. The houses there had long disappeared and replaced now by Bangunan Dirgahayu. One morning my brother, Mahrof, brought me along on his bicycle to our new home at Kampung Pulo Hilir, accross Sarawak river. I sat one the bike's bar and my brother paddled the bike along the village path.

There is a hill at the border between Kampung Panglima Seman Ulu and Kampung Panglima Seman Lama(That time it was also called Kpg Buah). During the time, the area was very quiet and peaceful. After reaching the hill top we began to descend. It was quite a fast descent and very frightening to me a six year old boy. Half way descending, we faced trouble. My brother could not control the bike due to uneven path and slippery too. So ...down we go...booop..Both of us fell to the ground. My face hit the ground and so my hands and followed by my legs. I felt the pains. I was in darkness for a few second then I started to cry. Blood on my face, hands and legs. My brother too. He carried me up to the bike and off we go to my new home. Hearing my cry, my uncle rushed down and give medical attention available in the kampung at that time. IT was a cold turkey treatment.

Self accident do happen to us. It caused some disturbance and also it created memories. Now I felt very reluctant to ride my Jaguh bike. I felt it is not worth riding. The pains and time spend and money too made me reconsider to have another joy ride. May be I needed a break. Or may be its time to say good bye to motor riding. Or maybe i should start bicycling. What says you?

25th November 2007