Driving Fisz back from the hospital last night, I switched on MixFM and was greeted by a slew of what I consider to be rather sappy songs. It was to be expected, given that it was after all, Love Songs and Dedications. This prompted a slightly groggy Fisz to ask, “And since when have you been listening to these kinda songs?” I laughed and told her, when I was at school, we used to tune in to Suara Johor 104FM (which was, back then, only restricted to Johor) and after 11pm, the station would play these sentimental, sappy love songs; and that would be what we would be doing our homework to after ‘lights off’. Nowadays I still tune in to Mix once in a while… because the songs remind me of a less complicated time.
Which got me thinking, belatedly, that I always think about my school days when I need to think of a time less confusing; where the be all and end all of my existence as I knew it then involved passing exams; where breaking the ‘law’ resulted in no more than a stern reprimand and cleaning up the dining hall after nasi lemak breakfast on Fridays; where if relationships screw up you just walk on because hey, none of this is real.
It was somewhat surreal, in a sense, going to our ten year reunion because for starters, everyone was the same, and yet not quite the same. Same familiar faces, and yet different people behind them. Perhaps the best part was walking up to friends whom I hadn’t seen in ten years, giving each other the once over to see the damage a decade has done, and then giving each other a hug with that special twinkle in the eye – remnants of secrets we knew about each other, and while now irrelevant, not quite forgotten.
And so it was quite unnerving for me, and it left me wistful, to find out, belatedly, that someone who was close to me back then had gotten hitched without actually telling me (or mostly, anyone else). Oddly, there was no resentment on my part, no pain, no anger.. just wistfulness. Because this was one person who got my back in almost every predicament I managed to get myself into.. one of the few friends I still contacted after I came to the UK (and that’s saying a lot); and now she’s embarked on an even more important journey and I was blindsided, I guess. I guess if I had a heads-up it would have been a tad easier to swallow, but hell yeah, one of the few people I could talk to is no longer available all hours. Not that we’ve done much talking over the past few years.. but.. entahlah. You leave for a couple of years, how can you ever expect things to remain stagnant where you left them?
I don’t know if I ever will grow up, like the other girls of the Class of ’94. While others have moved on, gotten jobs, cars, a family and a house, I am still a student. And while some would applaud and say my venturing into the world of doctoral studies is brave, here’s the real deal, people: I am in denial.. I hate the real working world, with its politics, and its dog-eat-dog scenario, the ass-kissing to get ahead, the lack of compassion. I want to be forever ensconced in this little corner of the world called education, live in more denial of the real world outside, and wait until my time is up. Because at some point I will need to feed myself, life dictates that I must return to the real world; but until that day comes, I am milking all this education malarkey for all it’s worth. So you see. I’m not brave. I’m a coward. And I’m not smart. I’m just in denial.