The Simple Things in Life

Of all the boys in Primary School, I remember a certain Flanagan the most. He was chatty and entertaining, generously leaning toward the boisterous mark, hence always incurring the wrath of our form teachers. But he was popular amongst the students, the 'notorious' bunch that is.

Flanagan was a kid from the old code. Never to succumb to those pesky hand held games, he was a sucker for the outdoors. Catching, hide and seek, football, fishing, fighting spiders, now these were the things that Flanagan excelled in. The gleam in his eye at the mere mention of such activities is obvious, as he discards whatever he is engaged in and charges forward.

Sadly though, his grades were something that was frequently scorned upon, depressing him deeper into isolation in the academic sense. The teachers gave up, and his less educated parents couldn't offer much help, even if their eager hearts wanted to. I begin to question the professionalism and quality of the teachers one day as I witnessed the Math teacher slapped the exercise book upon young Flanagan's face.

Flanagan slowly bent to pick the book up, embarrassed, shamed, and gritting his teeth, he finally made his way back to the desk beside mine, tolerating piercing stares from the rest of our classmates.

I slid the book off his hands and saw the red pen marks the teacher had sketched all over the pages, obscuring Flanagan's own writing. A big fat zero yet again...the seventh in 2 months. But with the teacher losing faith in him and to have seemingly given up, Flanagan's heart seemed fragile as he visioned his future, dark and hazy, like a piece of drifting wood out at sea. And for the first time, he cried.

The whole class transformed into a silent chamber for a mere few seconds before they resumed at whatever activities that had consumed them prior to the debacle. It was the first time anyone, including myself, had witnessed the breaking point of good ol Flanagan.

It was then that I offered Flanagan some help. I invited him to one of our study groups that we had twice a week with some of the boys from the other class. They were all brilliant in Maths, and I reckoned we could do a little something for Flanagan.

The boys looked reluctant when they saw us approaching the study corner that day, whispering and conspiring like little snakes. One of them brought me to the side during one of the breaks and told me they didn't like the idea of having Flanagan in the group. "He's slowing down our pace" was the term coined. "M***********s", I uttered under my breath as I grabbed my haversack and motioned for Flanagan to follow suit.

We walked toward the back of the school where an old wooden bench stood forgotten, lying under the comforting shade of the majestic Angsana tree. It creaked a little as we sat upon it, but the solid wood somehow reassured us of its stability. That was the first time I tutored Flanagan at Math.

Every other day, as the year end exams loomed nearer, I would attempt tutoring Flanagan at Math. Already buddies for our insatiable zest for sports and the outdoors, we grew even closer during these study sessions. I've grown to understand the other side of Flanagan that many fail to see and understand.

You see, Flanagan, unlike most of us, does not come from a middle class family. His parents do not have the luxury to send him for tuition classes. His toy collection remained limited, consisting of predominantly hand me downs from another era and those made by his very hands from whatever scrap materials he could find.

I still remember pausing really hard when I asked him this question. "Did your parents promise you anything if let's say you get a good grade for Math?" His eyes lit up a little before he lowered his head down once again to reply. "I don't even know if I can pass this paper man. You all know I've never passed any of our Math tests this year. But But But...my mum did promise me, that if I manage to pass my final Math exam and get into EM2, she would get me those Neckermann sandals!", he replied full of glee. "That's IF I pass....a really big IF", he continued before attempting the next Math problem.

I was dumbfounded. Just the week before, my mum bought me a pair of those Neckermann brand sandals. And it wasn't even a reward. I had pestered her to get it for me since it was the 'In' brand at the time. I pondered to myself ashamed and guilty, but I promised myself, I would try my all to help poor Flanagan.

I would be profusely lying if I mentioned that I didn't get agitated during those study sessions. It wasn't that Flanagan was stupid and dumb to grasp mathematical problems, it was just that he needed more time than most students to fully understand certain concepts. With the short-fused impatience of the teachers, it was no wonder that he was left astray, spiralling toward the bottom rung of educated society.

But things eventually picked up, and I grew to enjoy study sessions with Flanagan much more as compared to the smarter boys whom I used to study with. With them it was always about achieving at least an A* for Math. If I knew them well, I'll just be bold and say that in their very minds at that moment, they must be thinking that my grades would dip and I'd fair much poorer than I used to. Secretly, I was hoping that I can pip them from the Top 5 perch for Math in our class.

The exams came and went, as we welcomed the fun days where we can bring all sorts of board games and the likes to class as we await our results. After a week or so, results day greeted us with a gentle shower in the morning, making us shiver, but more so because we were eager for the results.

One by one they stood up and collected their Math paper as the form teacher handed them out. From the abrupt shouts and celebrations, I knew that the boys whom I used to study with did well...very well. Iqbal, one of them pranced around the class as he boasted to everyone that he got a perfect 100 marks.

I fidgeted with fear as I knew my name was about to be called upon at any time now. Flanagan, who was sitting beside me had his palms locked together in prayer as he donated a faint smile toward me.

"Ryhan", Miss Mah called out my name. Her facial gesture remained stone cold as she handed me my paper. A sign that perhaps I didn't do well as them other bunch of smarty pants. I refused to look at the grade as I reclined back to my seat and placed the paper face down. I wanted to know how Flanagan did first before I looked at my marks.

"Flanagan", she called out before continuing. "Well done Flanagan, the most improved student in the class! Everyone, give Flanagan three cheers!", as the class erupted into raptures.

Flanagan had on the broadest smile as he held his paper high up in the air. "I got 60 marks!", he said as he sat down. "Thank you man. This is the first time I ever passed at Math...and 60 marks some more. Im so proud of myself!", he exclaimed. "How much did you get?", he quizzed me.

I turned the paper in one swift motion to reveal my marks. 90, it said in red at the top right corner. 1 mark short of the A* grade. I was kind of disappointed to be honest, but I was filled with joy for Flanagan.

That day, as we all made our way out of school as happy school boys, I wondered to myself why I was sulking after achieving 90 marks. Isn't it supposed to be brilliant. Flanagan mentioned that he could only dream of getting those marks. So why was I sulking? Perhaps it was because I didnt manage to beat the other boys that I mentioned earlier. But then I realised something.

In the past few months, I've gained something much more than any of those boys would ever achieve perhaps even in their entire lifetime. I've learnt, that you can feel much more elated and rewarding, knowing that you have helped someone in dire straits. The study sessions with Flanagan wasn't exactly one way traffic.

I've learnt from Flanagan that to really succeed in life, money and results only account for a small bite of the pie. What makes life colourful is indeed the warmth of friends, not the bitterness of competition. Humility, Patience, Ambition, and Sincerity are certainly values that would help us trudge on much further in life.

Flanagan finally got his Neckermann sandals. We often look pass this, but in all honesty, it's always the Simple Things in Life, that makes us whole again.