Drugs and suicide before breakfast

I was driving to school this morning. Along the way, I saw two boys, blowing white clouds of smoke into the air. It can't be cigarette smoke. Ganja? Syahbu? It must be one of those stuff. Ciggie smoke doesn't make billowy, white clouds of smoke.

I slowed down as I passed them. I saw my school's emblem on their ties.

I stopped the car, got down, and stopped them. The acted as though I wasn't there. Their faces were ghastly pale.

I got into my car again, passed them again, and took a good look at their faces. Two Malay boys. Faces ghostly white. Must be in Form 3 or Form 4.

Just as I was parking my car, my mind racing on my next course of action... I looked opposite my school... At the balcony above the Chinese medicine shop... And I saw...

An Indonesian maid, standing on the balcony's ledge, screaming... Wanting to jump!

What a way to start the week.

The two drug junkies did not turn up at school, of course. The school counselor said if the school caught them, they will be sent for counseling. If the Anti Dadah Kebangsaan caught them, they will be sent to Program Jati Diri. If the police caught them, they will be sent to Pemulihan Akhlak.

What about rehab?

Nope. That will take a court order... Must produce evidence... Yada yada. Too much hassle.

What should I do next time, if I were to catch drug junkies red-handed?

The answer I got was, let the police deal with it. Because they may get aggressive when they are high on drugs. They may have sharp objects or weapons under their shirt. You may put your life in danger. They may recognize your car and have their revenge.

Feel helpless yet? Frustrated? Worried?

How would I handle it differently?

Ambush them from behind. Give one of them a hard, full-swing slap. Follow through with a backhand slap on the other. While they are still dazed, strong-arm them from behind. Drag them into my car. Drive them to the police station along the street, adjacent to my school.

What... You think inviting them into the car and going for a drink would work?

But is such an unconventional intervention called for? Is it even worth it? To put your own life on the line to help two boys from getting consumed by the hellfire of drugs?

Pn Malathi said, "From the first time I saw you, I always thought you looked like Superman. maybe you should write an essay, 'The day I wished I was Superman.' "




Not accurate. A Messiah syndrome, I have not.

Mei Yee says I am like Nathan Petrelli. A public personality on the outside. But on the inside, he is cold, cruel, and driven by a selfish agenda.




Her assessment must be more accurate. Since she is the only human being who spends the most time with me.

But for me, I'd prefer to have this alter ego: