This post was a result of free Legoland Tickets being given out in the Loyarburok E-group*. The best story would have won tickets to Legoland but no, this is not the best story. It’s just my story.

Lego formed the very foundations of my childhood (no pun intended) and taught me that the building blocks of any solution are around you — you just had to imagine the solution on the go and build it up, brick by brick.

You see for some, Lego is a theme park made by profesional Lego builders. For some, it’s a a free pre-made Formula One car given away with a purchase at petrol kiosks, or maybe its a pre-made Star Wars replica of the Millenium Falcon or in my brother’s case, it’s a Technic set where you could build tools/cars from Lego all, in a not-so-subtle social engineering way by my parents to get my brother to go into engineering. (He didn’t become an engineer, he became a doctor instead)

But for me?

It was a red box with a bucket handle and a red lego replica cover. On this red bucket, was the description of the 500 over pieces in it and some brief designs you could try to design with them. Pieces which over the years of my childhood, went missing naturally. Never to be found again.

But like everything in life, you just have to make do.

Like a druggie’s needle, this box of pieces was shared among my brother and any children who visited. Immense joy was derived and shared out. Distinct  bite-marks on every piece of Lego. (Remember biting Lego pieces which were too stuck to one another?)

Imagine the bacteria and potential childhood diseases lurking in that box! (I like to think that’s why my stomach can ‘tahan’ all the different hawker food these days!)

Anyway, first, you have to understand tho’ that mum and dad were strict disciplinarians who did not want to spoil their children and work hard for their efforts. (I don’t. I tend to find shortcuts.)

So, you had to work for your toys. An A in all your papers or a special occasion (lower bar, phew!) was what you needed to get a new toy this year. In truth, looking back, mum and dad were not doing too well and needed to save hard for our education and their future, you see.

As a result of that, I had a few Transformers toys, a few Marvel action figurines (I turned into more of DC comic fan in later years. Grimmer. Darker.) and other toys, and of course, that red box of Lego. That red box supplemented my other toys or the other toys which other kids could so readily have.

I needed a gun? I’ll build one.

I needed reinforcements for my Autobot army vs the baddies? I’ll build one.

I needed a new baddie? I’ll build one.

I needed a new awesome base for my army to reenact an awesome action-packed last stand scene? I’ll build one.

That for me, was what Lego and is to me.

Sekian, terima kasih.

*Apparently, I’m told… you’re only invited to join the Loyarburok E-group if you write for LoyarBurok. Elitist bastards! But besides honing your writing skills, rambling and impressing members of the opposite sex with your writing, being part of the E-group, you get: updates on our events, initiate discussions of interest, share their opinions about topics of interest, get to promote and mobilise movers for their events/causes, get to learn about different issues of interest, get to be involved in different activities and projects and of course,  get to connect with other people. So write for us. Be a LoyarBurokker.

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4 replies on “A Boy and His Toys: A Lego Story”

  1. Hehehe, u're funny. If you had written earlier, you would definitely be the winner. I like the poem at the end, it gives the essay a touch of class, hehe.

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