Yesterday...
Yesterday would have been my convocation, but under some unplanned circumstances, I was not on stage wearing that square hat.
It was the same old familiar sights. Cars circling UTM trying to find a parking. Families dressed in their best with their happy son/daughter hands full of flowers and a teddy or two. Friends posing in their jubbahs, trying to capture all those four/five years of accumulated memories in one click of the camera.
Yesterday I would have been sitting in the middle of Siva(my first Indian friend during first year who I labeled as a boy band fan and perhaps still is;) and Tan Jully(the dynamic chili padi who seem to be ready to take up any responsibility). Siva and I would have been making jokes and I would have laughed my heart out at Abel for trying to look at the camera while receiving the graduation award. I would glance from time to time to the top right, the orchestra stand where I played the clavinova for many a years and thought insistently that we should be playing “Pomp and Circumstance”.
So many familiar faces. Friends I have made in those five years of mingling in all kinds of clubs and societies, underground or formal, artsy or professional, political or apolitical. Friends I have acquainted from paying too often a visit to the library during my first year. I smile, rejoicing for them. They ask, and as if on cue, I spat it out like an answering machine.
Yesterday I would have been celebrating that special moment with the friends that I cherished in these five years. Sweating profusely (and maybe developing rashes) under my baju kebaya and jubbah, regularly touching the mortar hat to make sure it’s at the right place while smiling as the camera flashes non-stop. Ming Kai would be helping to the take the pictures while my family lingers impatiently. My mother might be making small talk with perhaps Ngiam’s parents. My hands would be holding the bouquet given by Ming Kai.
I gave the bouquet from the gang to Jessica, who is struggling with her loads of soft toys (a Garfield, Snoopy, graduation pig and teddy bear). We hunted for Joshua. I spotted the old gang of revolutionary dreamers, the ones who contributed to the social idealist in me, the ones I regretted having to spend less and less time with after being in AIESEC. They bring back the fondest of memories, the time when I first stepped into UTM full of anticipation, ambitions, hopes and dreams. We updated each other, took pictures and I know deep inside that the dreamers’ paths will cross again. I see Chan Chee, my very first best friend in university. We hugged. I start to recall the times we had on our bicycles, the crazy things we did, how carefree it was. The long ago memories stand the fondest and strongest. I know another few years down the road, I’ll be reminiscing with tears about my whole university life, just like how it is when I think about the good times in my high school band. I cherish these tears. Every bead of it is a fond memory that made up my life stories, a reminder to sip every present moment.
Yesterday was a past of would-have-beens.
It was the same old familiar sights. Cars circling UTM trying to find a parking. Families dressed in their best with their happy son/daughter hands full of flowers and a teddy or two. Friends posing in their jubbahs, trying to capture all those four/five years of accumulated memories in one click of the camera.
Yesterday I would have been sitting in the middle of Siva(my first Indian friend during first year who I labeled as a boy band fan and perhaps still is;) and Tan Jully(the dynamic chili padi who seem to be ready to take up any responsibility). Siva and I would have been making jokes and I would have laughed my heart out at Abel for trying to look at the camera while receiving the graduation award. I would glance from time to time to the top right, the orchestra stand where I played the clavinova for many a years and thought insistently that we should be playing “Pomp and Circumstance”.
So many familiar faces. Friends I have made in those five years of mingling in all kinds of clubs and societies, underground or formal, artsy or professional, political or apolitical. Friends I have acquainted from paying too often a visit to the library during my first year. I smile, rejoicing for them. They ask, and as if on cue, I spat it out like an answering machine.
Yesterday I would have been celebrating that special moment with the friends that I cherished in these five years. Sweating profusely (and maybe developing rashes) under my baju kebaya and jubbah, regularly touching the mortar hat to make sure it’s at the right place while smiling as the camera flashes non-stop. Ming Kai would be helping to the take the pictures while my family lingers impatiently. My mother might be making small talk with perhaps Ngiam’s parents. My hands would be holding the bouquet given by Ming Kai.
I gave the bouquet from the gang to Jessica, who is struggling with her loads of soft toys (a Garfield, Snoopy, graduation pig and teddy bear). We hunted for Joshua. I spotted the old gang of revolutionary dreamers, the ones who contributed to the social idealist in me, the ones I regretted having to spend less and less time with after being in AIESEC. They bring back the fondest of memories, the time when I first stepped into UTM full of anticipation, ambitions, hopes and dreams. We updated each other, took pictures and I know deep inside that the dreamers’ paths will cross again. I see Chan Chee, my very first best friend in university. We hugged. I start to recall the times we had on our bicycles, the crazy things we did, how carefree it was. The long ago memories stand the fondest and strongest. I know another few years down the road, I’ll be reminiscing with tears about my whole university life, just like how it is when I think about the good times in my high school band. I cherish these tears. Every bead of it is a fond memory that made up my life stories, a reminder to sip every present moment.
Yesterday was a past of would-have-beens.
posted by Hui Woon+~*'*'*~+.._.. at 3:22 AM
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