Here's a repost from blogger William " Pogi " Chua
Enjoy reading :
A perplexed friend asked me, "I want to write, but I can't do it. Is there something I must know first to be able to do that?"
"0f course!" I said, surprised that he did
not know the obvious answer. "The first ingredient in writing are the
alphabets; you know, the 26 letters: abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz."
my memory, always eager for time travel, returned to the day when I was
taught the peculiarity of the alphabets. (Later, my teacher, after she was released from the asylum, said she learned a lot,
"Now, William," she said, holding a flash card with a
big, black letter on it. "This is the small letter l; and this (another flash card shuffled up) is the capital L. Now what is this
letter?" She plucked a card from the pack, flashing a b.
"An l with a big tummy?" I said, surprised at the way her faced turned from pink to light indigo.
"That," she hissed, "is a b! Now you know what a b is."
"Yes, ma'am, a lot of them pollinate flowers."
"Never mind. And what do you make of this?" It must be a peculiar day,
because she picked the same letter, but facing the other way -- d.
"A leftward b?"
"No. Try again." The way she steamrollered the last word so heavily and
so blunt, I imagined the word breaking into little pieces and
falling to the floor.
Looking at the floor, I tried to appease
her with the best answer that came to mind. "A small l with a big butt,
like Nikki Minaj's?" Teacher was shaking her head like she wanted to
detach it from her neck, so I tried again: "Like Kim Kardashian's?"
"IT'S A D!" She said so loudly I saw capital letters. "And what do you make of thissss?"
Strange day, indeed. She was showing me a p. So I pointed out the
obvious: "You're holding a d upside-down, ma'am." She put the card in
front of her face, frowned, slowly turned it 180 degrees, looked at the
card again, then tossed it behind her shoulder.
another card from the deck, holding it as if it was a rotten fish, she
said, "And I suppose this is an upside-down b," tossing the q behind to
join the one on the floor, along with the shattered letters of the word she
"And this, I'm sure, is not upside down, is it?"
I gulped with embarrassment: she was showing me a pictogram of u. "What do you call that, ma'am?" I hedged.
"It's another letter. What do you think this is?"
Turning away from her, I mumbled, "a breast?"
"And this?" she smiled sweetly (but laced with strychnine) and held up a v. It's a pointed breast? And thissss, throwing a w in the air, is Madonna's pair of boobs?"
"Wow! You have an awesome imagination, ma'am. I thought that v is a bird flying. A female bird."
"I'm afraid to ask, but how do you know it's female?"
"Because a boy bird looks like that (me, pointing at a Y), his ding-a-ling is dangling while flying. Ma'am, why are you throwing away that n?"
"That's just a breast upside-down. No use wasting time on double-n, er, I mean m, either. Let's move on to O."
moon! That's the oldest alphabet. I read somewhere that the first thing
the first caveman drew was the first object he saw on the night-sky."
Finally catching on, the teacher added, "And this -- Q
-- is a cat gazing at the moon. See the tail?" Tossing away the whole
deck, she made a straight line on a piece of paper and drew a single v on the line: ____v_____
"I know that, I said. It's..."
"Yeah, you dope, it's the bird on the wire." [Singing];
♫ Still I run out of time or it's hard to get through,
Till the bird on the wire flies me back to you,
I'll just close my eyes, whisper: baby, blind love is true.
I wanna lay me down... ♪