Assalamualaikum.
Here I am having so much to ramble about, but, being those introvert-ish one makes it hard for me to smoothly voice out all my thoughts because there are so many things piled up in my head and while being a bit of a hoarder myself, tidying and organizing are not my best values. And yes, those applies to the thoughts in your head too. That is why I cannot be a speaker, or debater, or much less a teacher because words that formed in my mind evaporates as soon as it reached my lips.
Phew. That was quite a mumble jumble.
So, my high school friends held a mini-reunion just recently in the spirit of celebrating Ramadhan together and to reminisce the fond memories we had during the 5 years period of us staying there. Yes, it is a boarding school and yes, they stayed overnight there. And yes, I cannot join them.
Funny thing was, when I was a student there I was so occupied with the thought of being held in a prison (quite a comfy prison); sometimes I pretended that all of us are living in an asylum but having to be injected with hallucination, we are trained to imagine that we are having classes and all sorts of activity to pass the day. It become more obvious with all the strict rules and regulations, sometimes-a-little-bit scary wardens, 2 layers of fences with piercing thorny-thing, and numerous rounding from the security guards. (maybe I'm the only sane person there) But most of the times, I pretended that I am a character in Harry Potter, and that place is Hogwarts; scratch that, more to Beaubaxtons (because it's a girl school) because we have this 4 houses and it was like Cold War before the Quidditch [read: Sports Day], and I hated it. The house spirit is so frightening that I pretended to be in high house spirit most of the time, just to save my own neck. Oooh yes. The merit and demerit thing makes it more like HP series. I don't remember which one do I score most. Guys, I grew up with HP stories. In fact, we grew up together but in a different time zone and I guess that what makes my living there a bit bearable.
So the thought of going back and reliving the memoir of the school after I managed to escape, (yep, escape. not graduate) (after excruciatingly planning the break for 5 years) had never occurred to me before. Yes, if you are coming to visit someone you know that that is plausible. You're visiting someone (a sane one, just as I am so I can pass down the prison-break secret), not reminiscing something. To the seniors who came back and spend the Ramadhan there during my staying there, I highly apologized because there is not a single pleasant thoughts that came across my mind at that moment. You girls had had your freedom, why waste it by coming back here? You can munch on all the scrumptious food outside, why did you still want to take a bite from this slightly-ok food? Whyy oh whyy. ( I was such an ungrateful b-word at that time)
The matrons, and the wardens [read: teachers] always told us that we might hate the lifestyle we had in there, but once we got out, we will miss it and will surely wanted to come back to experience it once more.
I was like, no mam, that is a lie you made up just to make us feel good about ourselves. There is no way will I want to go back to this living hell.
Boy I was right. And wrong at the same time.
You see, all the years of pretending, have somehow backfired. Unknowingly I have become somehow accustomed to those routines that I have been told to practiced every single day for those lengthy years. My house colour, which I hated before, had slowly become the shades that surrounded my environment, I used more product now compared to the day where I was in the slimy-kid [read: budak hingusan] phase, and I will solemnly swear that after all this year, I have always been a high house spirit person, always. {quoted from Professor Snape}
About coming back to school, now that I have figured out that the insane one was probably just me, I have reached to a feeling that yes, fellow matrons and wardens, you are correct by saying that I will want to come back and do it all over again. But, I would love to do it all over again with my dear Orions. For that case, a thousand times yes.
I once asked a senior, what makes her strong enough to live there until she reached her final year? "Friends."
A short, and sweet (and a little bit cheesy) answer but now that I looked back, HP was just a story and it just happened in my mind. What makes it bearable, really,are those people who gather around you when you are down, a simple gesture like holding your hands when you are nearly on the edge of giving up and wanted to drop out of school, offers you a hug when you reeeaaaallyyy needed one, and occasionally a surprise hug when you least expecting it, make the joke of the day when you nearly gulp down pills because the day is so stagnant, gave immature advice when you had a bad day, pulls you up and run along with you when you really wanted to drop a few pounds, scolded you like a mom when you did something hasty, laugh at your impossible attempts at making stupid things, cry together, sleep together, play together, shout at each other, .... the lists are endless. But those are the people. Friends.
And the senior was absolutely right.
And Ramadhan, Ramadhan, Ramadhan is near to its end. And by saying that, imagine finding a perfect drop of rain from a heavy downpour; that is how all of us want to find that glimmer of a night worth a thousand nights. So change your 'Ibadah gear to gear 5, (or gear D if your're the auto person), and may Allah guide us to his grace by letting us meet Laylatul Qadr. Amin.
