Kapcai
Back in my highschool days having a motorcycle was the greatest thing that ever happened to me. Grades, friends, company, gay relationships, all were secondary to having a motorcycle in my garage.
Petrol prices were never a concern in 2002-2003, back then probably US$20 a barrel and government subsidies meant that we got petrol at RM1.21 per litre. Bargain, because I could run on four litres a week and still have excess before my next top up. Well at least the motorcycle I had wasn’t a fuel guzzler. Suzuki 4-stroke 110cc kapcai motorcycle, complete with basket and helmet case. I’d look really lala riding one of those in my green and white school uniform; people often mistook me for the gangsters which hung out at Kayu Ara buzzing their 2-stroke engines at 3am and breaking windscreens with their helmets.
I was rather tame on the motorcycle but it still gave me two accidents in three years. The first was really the car’s fault, but the second was mine. Nowadays looking at the scars I have on my limbs I can almost feel the vibration of my kapcai as it impacted the car... feel the hardness of the tarmac as I got flung across it... the impact of the road on my helmet as it smashed against it...
It still lingers, that feeling of utter helplessness and fear as you’re traveling at 80kmph in a less glamourous way than Superman ever would dare.
In both cases, my kapcai never sustained any damage other than a few extra scratches, whilst I had to be hospitalised. Bugger of a bike.
~
Public transport in KL is never something you’d wish you had to resort to on a daily basis. Neither is driving a car either; snarls are more common than teh tarik stalls.
But the motorcycle gives you freedom to zap through traffic, to travel into narrow lanes where cars can only dream of accessing, climbing mountain tracks that are really meant for pedestrians (I only did it once I swear!) and above all, FREE PARKING. That is, if you don’t mind the rain and smog.
So many memories. Late night Roti canai with myself and my kapcai because I had no friends to hang out with at 4am. Carrying my belongings when I was forced to shift house, yet again. Shopping at the night market and carrying durians in the basket. Traffic fines for parking on a pedestrian pathway. A hot girl (my classmate) sitting on the back of the motorcycle with her miniskirt and crossed legs as we rode our way to a night club. Rolling down a hill with the clutch released and eyes closed, hoping that no car would suddenly pop out from a junction and hit me.
So many memories.
It gave me strength to move on, and above all, I felt as though I had it all under control. I was a rather lonely kid back then, and I still am. The only things that kept me company were my kapcai and the humming sound of its engine as I rode around the city, locked away in my own world with the helmet on my head and my mind in a nutshell.
I remember the days I used to play music on my walkman (yes, I couldn’t afford anything better) as I did a ride up the hills at night... just myself and my kapcai under the eerie yellow sodium lights and the cold chilly air from the forest, just running the same song again and again without ever getting sick of it.
Pink Floyd's "Wish You Were Here"
Petrol prices were never a concern in 2002-2003, back then probably US$20 a barrel and government subsidies meant that we got petrol at RM1.21 per litre. Bargain, because I could run on four litres a week and still have excess before my next top up. Well at least the motorcycle I had wasn’t a fuel guzzler. Suzuki 4-stroke 110cc kapcai motorcycle, complete with basket and helmet case. I’d look really lala riding one of those in my green and white school uniform; people often mistook me for the gangsters which hung out at Kayu Ara buzzing their 2-stroke engines at 3am and breaking windscreens with their helmets.
I was rather tame on the motorcycle but it still gave me two accidents in three years. The first was really the car’s fault, but the second was mine. Nowadays looking at the scars I have on my limbs I can almost feel the vibration of my kapcai as it impacted the car... feel the hardness of the tarmac as I got flung across it... the impact of the road on my helmet as it smashed against it...
It still lingers, that feeling of utter helplessness and fear as you’re traveling at 80kmph in a less glamourous way than Superman ever would dare.
In both cases, my kapcai never sustained any damage other than a few extra scratches, whilst I had to be hospitalised. Bugger of a bike.
~
Public transport in KL is never something you’d wish you had to resort to on a daily basis. Neither is driving a car either; snarls are more common than teh tarik stalls.
But the motorcycle gives you freedom to zap through traffic, to travel into narrow lanes where cars can only dream of accessing, climbing mountain tracks that are really meant for pedestrians (I only did it once I swear!) and above all, FREE PARKING. That is, if you don’t mind the rain and smog.
So many memories. Late night Roti canai with myself and my kapcai because I had no friends to hang out with at 4am. Carrying my belongings when I was forced to shift house, yet again. Shopping at the night market and carrying durians in the basket. Traffic fines for parking on a pedestrian pathway. A hot girl (my classmate) sitting on the back of the motorcycle with her miniskirt and crossed legs as we rode our way to a night club. Rolling down a hill with the clutch released and eyes closed, hoping that no car would suddenly pop out from a junction and hit me.
So many memories.
It gave me strength to move on, and above all, I felt as though I had it all under control. I was a rather lonely kid back then, and I still am. The only things that kept me company were my kapcai and the humming sound of its engine as I rode around the city, locked away in my own world with the helmet on my head and my mind in a nutshell.
I remember the days I used to play music on my walkman (yes, I couldn’t afford anything better) as I did a ride up the hills at night... just myself and my kapcai under the eerie yellow sodium lights and the cold chilly air from the forest, just running the same song again and again without ever getting sick of it.
Pink Floyd's "Wish You Were Here"
Labels: updates
Fell from the sky at 3:05 AM
6 Comments:
This is very bizzare of you. I also have a motorbike, but it's Modenas, crappy thing and it gives me memories of servicing them for about RM 400 and burned a hole in my wallet.
That time it broke down suddenly on my way to Bukit Bintang. I had to push it waaaayy back to Wangsa Maju. Horrid i must say.
I've had my fair share of breakdowns too hehe
Why is it bizzare?
You usually will, well u know, complain about people, transport, the inefficiency of machines. lol sorry to be so straight forward.
i've never owned a motorcycle. but my ex used to drive me around in his. i would scream in the helmet (with a full visor on) just for fucks and cos i can't be recognized. sadly, these days, there are too many people abusing the freedom and fun that comes with riding a motorcycle. i've had way too many experiences having my car caught in the swarm at night.
but yes, riding pillion was one of the best memories. thanks for reminding me with this post.
@brianchang
maybe you remember only those posts because you don't understand the others?
@angmoh.
i read all of it since onegayboy in Malaysia working in Dome, the dysfunctional family dramas, happy moments, an unconditional love to plants and photography, refuse to look drib drab but enjoy the good things in life. I understand the posts but not him.
i'm just another blogger who blogs about his life away.
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