Adios

As a child, we never believe in the things that parents say. It is almost as if truths from their mouths are dismissed as folk tales. That’s because most of what they say is to scare the hell out of us, to ensure that we walk on the righteous and honest paths for the rest of our life. To force us to lead a life of cowardice and to make us shiver in their penetrative understanding of life and its intricate footwork.

Today, I realize that for all the lies and untruths that my father told, at least one of them is true. I must have been about seven when he conveyed to the wriggly and homework-loathing version of me that the path of education, though fraught with numerous obstacles are also littered with many more enjoyable moments. His advice was to savour the transient period of learning before being ejected into the ‘real-life’ working world.

Now this post is not in any way meant to degrade or insult the years to come. Neither is it for the lamenting of what is consumed and passed. It is more of a celebration of the path of institutionalized learning, beginning more than 10 years ago. At that tender age, no one knew why school was invented and no one knew the value of education. It’s an abstract concept, originating from parents who need to rid their lives of pesky little fingers and high pitch voices.

So all these little young minds trot to school, compare cane welts, parental/family ground rules, pocket money allowance value… ya-da ya-da ya-da. All these while, they gain exposure to obscene ‘outside’ influence, as well as an individual opinion and a sense of right and wrong. Perfect ingredients to formulate the tumultuous teenage years. And during those years, disobedience, truancy and defiance lends its hand to well-formed friendships with perfect strangers that will prove to (hopefully, fingers crossed) last a lifetime.

In those years, we also start to question the purpose for our own existence. We wonder if we will ever be able to have a normal, intact and happy family. We wonder if we will find success in life. We ask questions that not even the 80 year old version of ourselves can answer and yet search high and low for a hint of the truth that is to come. And for some, we wonder if we will ever get to university, and get what the world called the basic degree.

University for me got farther when I went to a technical polytechnic instead of the usual JC route that Singaporean take. I am sure I must have disappointed many people with my choice then, but it all turned out for the better. Polytechnic life has imprinted my life in a way beyond my wildest imagination. While it was specific in its’ academic teaching, there was no limits to the vastness of the experience. The people, the events, the friendships (and enemies) are so diverse and enriching that it leaves you gasping for more.

Graduating with a technical diploma holds a certain special meaning; it signifies that you are now ready to be employed within the workforce in a certain field. Although most of us knew that we are ready for work, we still desire that elusive college education that we have read so much about in storybooks and heard so much about through all the grapevines. We angst silently over entrance scores and worry about if we are ever going to take it.

Today, that journey has ended, at least for me. The last paper was scripted today, the final regurgitation of every single biochemical and developmental pathway was done. There is a certain loss of direction in my life as if every single textbook from here onwards will have lesser purpose. Powerpoint slides and lectures are already a thing of the pass. I can no longer give the excuse that I am studying to stay up late, pass ungodly hours. And I no longer have the option to skip planned day-time events because I feel like it.

There is a certain joyous moment in all of it. Almost like winning the lottery after all these years of random number picking. Except that this lottery feels so much more precious because of the effort and time spent. It feels like a dream, but sweeter. Feels like everything good, except better.

The very last year of my education, and it couldn’t have been more fulfilling without the great people I have met this year. And although biochemistry and genetics were never my first choice for majors, it was a constant engaging experience, one after another. One less potluck and it would seem lackluster. One less conversation would have crippled this year (or at least I choose to believe). Even taking away the bad moments (when S acted out an acute seizure during a graded presentation) would have been disastrous because what is great when you have nothing to compare it to?

Adios to my third and final year. I’ll sure miss you, and I believe I have already started.