Freaking Waffles of a place
That a student’s ability is measured
Through a mention of its name
By a mere whisky of its fame;
So what if we didn’t?
What is a student worth then?
More than a school name surely,
More than a great badge really;
By association we are no different:
We belong in the same league
Play by the same One Waffles street
Considered too the same Waffles breed;
What is the individual then?
What is the collective then?
I have no right to complain:
I graduated from there just the same;
But make no mistake:
We succeed by ourselves
Supported by a great place
To run ourselves our own race.
(Disclaimer: I love my school; I’ve always loved it. I did reasonably well and I had some of the best schooling years there. It’s a lovely place, and all other stereotypes are needless. I’m proud of the school, and someday the school shall be proud of me too. To transcend the school reputation and make good as an individual to live a life of kindness and purpose, that is what I believe to be the reason for the greatness of the school.)
(I don’t usually do dedication posts because I’d rather thank and show my appreciation directly to that person, but for this one I think it’d be appropriate because I have a lot of respect for this man, and for the things he have done for his students over the years. He was one of the key figures of my junior college years, and I believe the impact he has left on me will continue to be felt in one way or another, years down the road. Here’s a quick post, but I don’t think words are enough to even start describing anything. Retirement never looked the right word for a man with such abundance of energy. Haha.)
Twenty-five years with the college:
You would have seen so many classes throughout the years
Faces you (probably) wouldn’t recognise some years down the road
Names you would (likely) struggle to remember as you try to recall
People that you have tried your best to make into better humans;
We step through the college doors and we see a tall big British guy
With so much enthusiasm and energy at his age that we wonder
If he is the teenager instead of us and how he seems
More passionate about our learning than we are ourselves;
You had so many of us but we only had one of you Mr R.
Yet you tried to (and did) form a warm relationship with all of us
That many years on when we look back at our junior college years
And specifically The Humanities Programme..
We probably wouldn’t remember (oops) the Economics you taught us
Nor the moments when you scolded us for sluggish afternoons
But we will definitely remember Bhutan and Mt Ophir
As well as the fun and laughter we’ve had out of the classroom;
When we think Humanz
We think Mr R.
Not just now
But decades on too.
We run, and we run. We run all the way across the parade square, to the spot where our younger selves used to sit.
I’m in brown again, no longer the military green that I was clad in a moment ago. I feel like I’m in all white back in my junior college again, a proud young man ready to take on the world at breakneck speed.
I look around, and I notice this isn’t the elevated parade square of my recent two soaring years. This is the parade square of my childhood years, an old but happy place of endless running and jumping. A place where I felt (and still feel) truly free.
We reach our spot, and we giggle like we used to all those years ago. Silly we seem, but happy we are.
“Here?” I ask with a smile spread across my face.
“Yeah, here” you reply with a sincere laughter.
I never felt free like this in a long time.
The next thing I knew, 8:40am. Blue stained sheets, old yellow blanket. I groaned, as all sense of happiness and freedom vanished into thin air in an instant.
(5 minute challenge after lunch, let’s race)
Talking to you about junior college and other related things like
Scholarships and subject combinations makes me feel
A little older than what I consider an age suited for
Fun moments and happy times of simply decisions and easy choices;
I see so much promise in you and what lies ahead
That I do somehow wonder if anyone saw that in me years back
When I stepped into college ready to sprint all the way
With eyes on the finishing line and mind on the dazzling prize;
I know you’ll go far – not because I think you would
And not so much even that I feel you could
But more of knowing that you should
After seeing you push the final stretch after the last hurdle;
My race is about over – the finishing line is within a step or two,
And yours is about to begin – the starting blocks are in place and the marshall ready
To fire his gun to mark the start of your race
One which you can only surpass all expectations and soar beyond;
Those with spikes – let them run the good race,
And may the winds be ever in your favour.
It has gotten quite comfortable,
Yes it sure did take some time but
It has gotten comfortable after awhile;
I don’t profess that everything has been entirely at ease,
Or that it has all been smooth sailing and easy riding,
But the walls and rooms of the J block in some ways will
Always ring a familiar warm note each time it flashes in my mind;
The regular breakfast club table too makes mornings that little bit brighter;
Seeing familiar faces around gives the whole place that feeling
That we are all in this together and we’re here for each other,
Where a simple wave or a casual smile can turn a bad day around,
And a little conversation or chat can make life that little bit better;
We are not necessarily all so sentimental or emotionally attached,
But it is true that what has become familiar and warm to us
Does make parting a little bit harder and a little less desirable,
Where the thought of faces seen daily and smiles caught frequently
Not experienced as much or ever does make life that little bit colder;
A part of our heart stays in places where we’ve grown to love,
Just as how these little corners too in our hearts have taken their places;
Happy graduation one and all,
What lies ahead is for us to explore,
These past moments (I know) with always stay with us,
Where in looking back these memories forever will last.