Do you have any real-life, heart-warming stories to share with readers? We'd love to hear from you. Please keep your story within 900 words. Photos are optional and should be in JPEG format (file size about 1MB, with caption and photo credit). There is no payment for stories, and we reserve the right to edit all submissions. Email your story to: heartandsoul@thestar.com.my with the subject "Heart and Soul".
When my Form Five English teacher, Mr Thamlarason, entered my class, 5 Sains Tulen at Sekolah Menengah Kebangsaan Sungai Besar in 2007, he introduced rules and assignments.
I vividly remember one of the rules was to only speak English in his class, else fines would be imposed on rule breakers; and a special assignment was to keep a weekly journal.
He would respond to our entries with comments, but there would be no grammatical corrections.The assignment immediately piqued my interest because I could write about anything under the sun.
I often felt like an odd student among my peers. Although I came from a Chinese-speaking family and had attended a Chinese primary school, I loved English and immersed myself in the language whenever I could. I diligently filled my journal with thoughts about school and life.
Mr Thamlarason always read it with an open mind. He would scribble comments beside certain paragraphs before ending each entry with a few encouraging words.
One week, I wrote about my disappointment that our English for Science and Technology (EST) class was taught by a science-trained teacher with limited English proficiency.I felt students needed a teacher who could guide us in expressing scientific ideas clearly in English. I likened the situation to the blind leading the blind into a deep longkang (drain).
Not long afterwards, the teacher was replaced by an English teacher.
I still remember Mr Thamlarason reading that journal entry aloud in class, laughing at my analogy.
Beneath the entry, he wrote that he enjoyed reading my journal because my thoughts were mature for a 17-year-old. That compliment gave me confidence and encouraged me to keep writing.
Beyond improving my writing, the journal taught me to express my thoughts more openly. It eventually led me to contribute letters to The Star's Let's Hear It column, where I shared my views on school life and Malaysia's education system.
Before I sat for my Sijil Pelajaran Malaysia (SPM) examination, Mr Thamlarason stopped me in the school canteen and asked if he could keep my journal. I happily agreed.
After receiving my SPM results, I had hoped to study journalism, but my family's financial circumstances made that impossible. Instead, I completed Form Six before pursuing engineering at a public university.
After graduating in 2014 and working in the corporate sector, I returned to visit my alma mater. Before leaving the staff room that afternoon, Mr Thamlarason asked whether I was still writing.
I admitted that I had stopped because work had become too hectic.
"What a shame," he said quietly before walking away. Those three words stayed with me.
Then came the Covid-19 pandemic in 2020. Working from home gave me something I had lacked for years – time.I gradually rediscovered my love for writing, beginning with blog posts and social media before contributing stories to Heart and Soul, sharing heartfelt experiences with readers across the country.
Somewhere along the way, I lost Mr Thamlarason's contact number. I have tried asking around but have not been able to find him.
I am not sure if he will be reading this story, but if he happens to read it somewhere, I would like to express my gratitude to him for fostering and cultivating a love for writing in me.
Although I am not an established writer like A. Samad Said, Adibah Amin and Shirley Geok-lin Lim, I am still writing for pleasure and will keep on writing.
