I met up with three very good friends today for brunch, friends who I knew back from my secondary school days. We were secondary school classmates, and three of us (one couldn't make it) backpacked Europe together back when we were 21 years old. Since then, we have travelled together occasionally, and we have always made it a point to meet up at least twice a year - once during our birthdays (usually August since our birthdays traverse July, August and September), and once during Christmas or New Year. Usually though, we meet up more often than that - for a quick lunch on working days, a dinner if it so miraculously happen that we are able to knock off from work while the restaurants are still open, for some shopping on a Friday evening, just to chill out at the park, for a concert or, when we were feeling particularly health-conscious, for brisk walks and runs.

My secondary school years were not my happiest - simply put, there was a serious mismatch between my personality and the school culture. When I left at the end of four years, I was determined to leave it all behind me, sever all my ties so as to speak. I chose a junior college far off the beaten track where I knew none of my classmates, and very few of my schoolmates will go. I chose a course that I knew none of my science-and-maths-mad and Mandarin speaking schoolmates will ever dream of signing up for. I had good friends in my secondary school - these three girls among them - but I wanted to leave everything behind and start afresh. It was for the best, I thought.

My friends did not think so. They left me alone for a while - for the full two years that I was in junior college in fact. I hardly heard of them, let alone see them, so different were the social circles that we were then moving in. I wouldn't say that I miss them terribly during those two years because while I do think of them occasionally, I was enjoying myself immensely in junior college. However, my friends got back in touch with me when we entered university, and it was as if we had never been apart.

They gave me my space when I needed space to recuperate, and once they figured that I have sulked enough, they came after me, grabbed me and held on.

We are four very different girls, but somehow we became very good friends. I never knew what I did to deserve such strong and steady friendships, but I give thanks every day that I have them. Thank you my dears, and here's to the next 17 years of friendship (and more!)

P.S. I am leaving this unlocked since I know you girls read this sometimes.

( There comes a time when we heed a certain call ... )

Reminisicing

2008 was a year of many endings.

Many Deaths...
2008 stood out for the sheer number of deaths that impacted me - Arthur C Clarke, Samuel Huntington, J.B. Jeyaretnam, Loh Hwei Yen

Arthur C Clarke(16 December 1917–19 March 2008)
Arthur C Clarke was the favourite author of my childhood - I spent hours in the library reading his books, and when my secondary school cleared out its library in preparation for the move to the new campus, I picked my way through the garbage centre in the school compound, picking up ragged copies of his books, many missing their covers or with pages dangling. These books accompanied me through many years, many of them finally disintegrating with so much use. Arthur C Clarke  introduced me to the mysteries and wonders of science and, in particular astronomy, and opened my mind to the sheer possibilities and potential (and limitations) of mankind. He was also probably single-handedly responsible for my dreams of being an astronomer, and even though I have since walked down a vastly different path, I still retain my childhood love and respect of science and most importantly, my appreciation of just how wonderful and amazing the real world can be in itself, without the need for the leavening of the super-natural, in no small part thanks to this man.

Samuel Huntington (18 April 1927–December 24, 2008)
Samuel Huntington's The Clash of Civilizations and the Remaking of World Order was a significant part of my A Levels education - History was my joy and passion during those years, and Samuel Huntington brought to mind the happy days spent sitting in class discussing the use and purpose of history, whether it can ever reach the kind of acceptance that economics and other social sciences seems to have achieved etc etc. He opened my eyes to the importance of culture, and lit in me a desire that still exists today to understand more about different countries, different cultures and how these influence how people think, how they make decisions, and ultimately how the world ticks.

The ideas of these two men have a significant role in who I am today - a person who strives to be a rationalist, and with an appreciation of culture and the arts. A lawyer who volunteers at the Asian Civilisation Museum, an atheist who is interested in religion, a person who likes to ask "why", a person who strives to understand the world - politically, culturally, scientifically.

Joshua Benjamin Jeyaretnam (5 January 1926 - 30 September 2008)
Closer to home, the death of JBJ was unexpected. He was my introduction to Singapore opposition politics, which was sparked when my parents return from an opposition rally being conducted at the car park just below our block of flats - I remembered looking up wide-eyed when my dad entered our flat, while in the middle of a conversation with mum, saying - "he will be sued, for sure." "He" is of course JBJ, who was indeed sued by the then Prime Minister (now Minister Mentor) for making allegedly defamatory remarks. I remembered watching him hawk books in Raffles Place, and observing people discreetly pressing money into his hands that far exceed the cost of each book. At first I wondered, why would anyone help a man like that? As I grew older, I understand that it is precisely men like that who we should respect - men who lived for their principles, and not for a multi-million dollar salary. I remembered meeting his son, then President of the Law Society during a seminar by Michael Caplan QC on the Pinochet affair, and wondering, just what does the son think of his father's politics. I may not like his "angry" brand of politics but I respect him as a man of principles and a man who had sacrificed his material comfort in pursuit of these principles. I am not sure that I will ever have that ability to do so.

Loh Hwei Yen (1980 - 27 November 2008) 
Hwei Yen - I still do not know how to respond to her death. I don't know her but her death hit way too close to home. One year my junior in law school, married to the brother of one of my hall mates, worked in the same two law firms I have worked in and am currently working in, gunned down in a terrorist attack on a hotel that almost every Singaporean lawyer will stay in if they are in Mumbai for a business trip. Our paths must have crossed numerous times - during school days, at office functions, at weddings and parties. I remembered the shock that went through my office when news of her death came out - almost all of us know her or someone who is connected to her - she is one of us - the illusion that most of us had been under - that we are relatively safe being but a insignificant little red dot with little political or economic clout in the world, and personally as non-combat professionals who are as far from the frontline as it can be - shattered with her death.

( Other Endings ... )

2008 was a year of many endings but every ending is a new beginning ...

"You'll never make it, I guarantee it!"

Those were the words my secondary school form teacher told me when she learned that I applied to Hwa Chong Junior College for A Levels, and had the audacity to apply for the humanities programme. Ongoing saga over a heartless principal's comments brings back some memories that were never very far below the surface.

It has been more than ten years, but I still remember the contempt in her tone, the conviction shining in her eyes when she uttered those words. I think I will never forget it.

"You'll never make it, I guarantee it!"

Ha. Ha. Ha.