To be honest, everything still feels surreal at this present moment. The gargantuan fact that 4 years of Secondary School education is coming to a close and the immense notion that in just 2 years time, I'll be sitting for yet another major examination. Soon after, army will come, coupled with additional years spent in university and then the real deal.

Things are just moving so quickly and I haven't really had the time to just sit down and recollect my journey thus far. My memory has never been the best but some things I will always remember vividly and others vaguely. The very first day I set grounds into RI and everything was simply alien to me. Words like 'Junior Block' or 'Admin Block' came in tongues and just simply everything was foreign to my innocent eyes. The very first day I sat in class, sandwiched between Deepak and Aidan, 2 of my batch mates whom I was going to become good friends with. The PSLs who walked paraded into class, with Charles at the forefront--but at that juncture, I had yet to discover how important these group of seniors (leaders to be more precise) were to us.

Flashback to the moment Aaron, another PSL of mine, stomped out of our classroom slamming the door behind and as the immature and insensitive bastards we were, we simply laughed the moment of rage and fury off and continued our trivial matters. But deep down everybody, there was a message burning with passion, the passion of our seniors who worked vehemently and strove relentlessly to cultivate and nurture respectable juniors and seniors of the future. A seed had been planted; all that was required was the right conditions.

Secondary 2 was a rough year. It started off with a distinct hatred for the senior block purely because there were no longer carpets (yes we were pampered). The atmosphere was in stark contrast to the welcoming junior block and somehow, we retreated back into the old, dull days of primary school. Thankfully, the air conditioning was still in function. The greatest horror came as to who was to be our new FT. She was never seen in our good books, not even regarded as on par. He demeanor was often dissed as awkward and rigid. To a certain extent, it wasn't something anyone would fancy but the special ingredient was love and care. There was a tinge of both but it was never detected by us; not until we had matured at least.

Same old growing pains you undergo as a teen, some more real than others. We had fights--physical, emotional, verbal. Tears were shed, sometimes even blood when the kinship of the blood brothers were torn by brawls. But somethings never change. In the corridors, you can't avoid a situation when your past meet eyes and shrugging it off your shoulders won't do a thing. Either let conflicts fester into a weathered storm or muster up the courage to quell the tension. Things were going to be alright.

2M'09 was a magical class and I will not forget the atmosphere. We did not go 1 minute without cracking a joke or simply laughing at one. The teachers hated us and I can't dictate how many instances we were screamed at (even visited by Mrs Maas and the counselor) but at the end of it all, we had fun.

Secondary 3 was difficult to start with. First of all, we were expected to forget the memories and bonds forged in the past 2 years and start anew. It's difficult to make new friends or foster new friendships when you're stubbornly clinging on to past relations. Furthermore, I was dumped into a group of mixed personalities--there were scholars who were trying their best to assimilate into Singapore, a bunch of others who were from another class, and the confounded individuals who were at bare minimal trying to survive. But OBS changed everything. Within that 4-5 days, I had made new friends and reinforced old relationships.   Things weren't going bad at all.

Throughout the rest of year 3, I have got to know my class much better. Old perceptions and conformity were eroded and replaced with more amiable characteristics. Nevertheless, nothing is perfect and there were (and still are) flaws with my class. I am not ashamed to say that my class is one of the few who lack sufficient class spirit and team bonding. But take apart this idea of collective strength and analyze each individual--they're not too bad after all. Perhaps not idealistic as a class, but never short as a friend.

And so I am down at year 4. Everything has traveled too fast and from the back of my head, this has been the sum of my journey since year 1. Of course, I have left out several important aspects of my life such as Scouting and my best friends but that is another story to tell.

Just sitting here and trying to recall what ushered in these past 4 years really reinvigorates much nostalgia. But history is irrevocable and from henceforth, I can only look to the future and persevere.

All izz well.