buddies in the service

i knew them from signal institute. they were the best bunch. and they're all indians.

jayson. he was riding an r1 while i was still under disqualification, and he always made sure i remembered it.

me: that's not the way to roll the wire, indian!

jayson: ya, but who's got the license?
me: ARGH!!!! you cb!!! i'll kill you!!!
jayson: lol!

yeah, i had the greatest time with that dude. and whenever we meet up for drinks at a chalet he'd never fail to bring up the one two years ago. i'd already chugged a few barrels and was screaming for more. he and his girl concocted one for me and i exclaimed "whoa this is good!" just before i passed out. next day the black bastard told me the cup he gave me only had green tea in it. we all had a good chortle over that one.

sidartha(or sidharta, or sidarta. i'm pretty sure it's one of these three). one time he tried to wake me up. he touched my shoulder once, and my eyes popped open and stared through him. "hey buddy, wanna go for a smoke?" "yeah, you guys go ahead. i'll catch up later." so, still groggy, i went to the toilet(our unofficial smoking corner) where he was already sitting with jayson. halfway through my stick, i commented "just now who woke me up ar, cb...", to which they looked at each other, sniggered and said "it was us la, you cock!"

jimit. like sid, he hated me back when i was ic for the first three days in the institute. because he thought i was a stuck up chinese bastard, and because i was always rushing the whole platoon with words of encouragement like "slowly take your time guys! don't fall down and oot(out of training)!" well it wasn't my idea to become the ic, the sergeant just happened to call for bunk 3 bed 3 and i just happened to be the dude. so anyway, he only realised i was such a slacker after i passed the baton over to the next unlucky guy and he started hanging out with my lazy ass.

alvindah. he was the heart of many jokes during our time together. it wouldn't have been so much fun without him. yup, he gave us a certain level of comfort. lol! that was our group's inside joke.

sameer. this one was the all time winner. he snapped some tendon in his knee during bmt, so he was limping by the time he came to si. the bastard had the gall to get his signal certificate one week before us all, pack his stuff, and leave camp. he reported once to his new unit and never went back again. we wondered what he would tell his offspring about national service. "it was great son! all the good times i had at home...."

alas, all good things must come to an end. i alone of the whole batch(of how many hundreds?) of trainees was posted to tekong where i was doomed to spend the rest of my army life. some of the others were lucky enough to be posted together.

well, at least we still meet up for the occasional chalet to eat, drink and be merry.