The crowd had not dwindled. Rather, it became more unruly and boisterous. I looked about me. The crowd was made up of a myriad of characters. Everywhere, the food sellers dashed about. Orders were taken feverishly and shouts were heard across here and there- the typical hawker centre scene. The food sellers were hurriedly selling their food and the customers were busy talking amidst themselves.

Then, as if in slow motion, a middle-aged man walked past me. He was walking slowly, to a rhythm of his own, regardless of the hurry crowd. His pace movement was slow, but that did not bother him at all. Watching him from a distance, million of thoughts ran across my mind.

"Hold it this way, with your thumb presses it slightly, then move it FREELY with your middle and fourth finger, watch me," he said, stressing the word 'freely', whilst moving his pen. Front, back, front, back. We took our cue from his finger movement. Easy, just front, back, front and suddenly, without warning, my index finger slipped, overlapping the others. It slipped through my hand and dropped on the floor. A few of others let out a whoop of laughter. I was burning with embarrassment.

"It's okay, be patient, you will master it in time," he said, looking at me with a smile. I smiled back, not knowing the reason I smiled, forgetting about their gibe.

So I had enrolled in the calligraphy class. I was only 11 years and that was my first lesson. The teacher was teaching us the proper way of holding calligraphy pen. Together with me, were other new students, about five of us (chunliang, waiwai, ah sam…) were sited in front of the class.

Am I sure that it was him and not a trick of light?! YES. Turning a corner, he placed his both hands to the back. I became certain because he always walked with his hands back back then. For a moment, I had a wild impulse to walk up to him and call out to him.

"Be patient, you can do it," he said, adding note of assurance to his voice. He continued holding my hand with his. And the pen began to move, very slowly, but steadily, then stopped, then moved back again. He was controlling the pen, my hand as well. At the end of it, I was stunned by the beauty of the word that appeared in front of me. I was thrilled. "Now, go and practice it," he said, then continued doing the same for the rest.

Just sometimes, he would scold us if he had to, he always reminded us that concentration is the most important thing in doing something (in this case, calligraphy), and when we coupled it with patience, faith and good practice, we will produce excellent results. He always had the just right thing to say when you are down, to perk you up again and to motivate you.

And back then I remember how hard I had practiced for my calligraphy. I did not look at it as a drudgery, obligation or a forced work. Enthusiasm, immense interest was what I was looking it as. I could still vividly remember the first words he wrote for me, '上' and for every words he had given me, I had them practiced at least twice or three times more than the others. I had three whole stack of 'books' when the others only completed one.

"HEY THERE YOU, stop dreaming and start practicing," he scolded. There he went again. I turned back and beckoned to chunliang who was sitting at the back, signaling him to go out. That stupid fella grinned. We sneaked out to the dewan. Apart from the wushu training in the dewan, there were also lots of activities going on, badminton, games which primary students play. Half a year had gone now and we were half a senior now. It became a habit of us to sneak out to dewan every now and then, returning only 30 minutes before the class ended. At one time or another, I saw him shaking his head, in disappointment. I knew then I was wrong. But he never gave up on us. He continued encouraging us to practice hard, nurturing good positive values at the same time.

One day, whilst I was practicing on my own. He came up to me and asked me a question that shocked me (although the question wasn't very shocking).
"Why don't you join a competition which will be held next week? People from all over Melaka will join too," he invited.

I hesitated for a moment. And at last I answered, "Um… I- I don't think that's a good idea, am I even qualified for that by the way?". Nobody had ever considered me to enter a competition and I had always thought that I wasn't good enough for any competition. But of course, that was the stupidest way of answering such question.

"Why not? Why not give yourself a try, a chance to shine? It's not the end result that matters, it's the process that does. And while you are doing these thing, you are relishing every moments there. Don't lose opportunity that lies ahead just because you are not confident," and he went on and on, encouraging me. At last I mouthed the word 'yes', though still undecided about the competition. He invited me to his own place for practice, and I agreed.

A surge of emotion raced through me. It was inexplicable. All of a sudden, the back of my eyes became warm. I don't know why. Still staring at him, I saw him making his way to the CD stalk. I made a few steps forward, then stopped right there, as if rooted to the ground. Five years had passed. After my primary graduation, I came to St. David but became very inactive in calligraphy, state competition and all that, putting his effort to waste. And in that, I was 'scared' to approach him. I wasn't sure if he still remember me as his once good students. I wouldn't say I was his favourite student. But rather, I would say that he was my favourite teacher. Excuses began to bury themselves in my head.

As for that first state competition that I joined, it turned out to be a great experience. I had all the fun with friends and all. I did not regret at all with my decision. Towards the end of it, I was awarded with the highest price. I was thrilled. I walked out of the hall and I still remember the words that he spoke to me until today.

I am so proud of you, chunkiat.