A Parable from an Ex-Prefect (the Problem Edition)

During my high school years in public school (Grade 7 to 11), I was one of the “privileged few” to clad in exquisite blue uniform and dark blue blazer as a “Prefect”, a member of the Prefectorial Board (the “board”). In hindsight, it was one of the most notorious organization I had ever associated myself with. Another being my local orchestra where I played the violin, but that’s another post altogether.

The fact that I am writing about this now (after so many years since my disassociation with the organization upon my graduation) is an apt introduction to its notoriety. The accumulated sighs within my bosom begged release after years of having that threatening shadow looming above my head. No one was to engage in any forms of internal squabbles, so warned the various head prefects year after year, which really was another way of saying no one was to criticize the board and the leadership. Or there will be “dire consequences”, they added in an unapologetically fascist tone.

A Business Card, a RM50 Bill, and a An Invitation

Half enthralled at the avalanche while struggling to maintain my decorum, I clamped the edges of his business card with my thumb and index finger, searching for a hint to provide an answer to his invitation. 

Momentarily, my imagination possessed my mind. A “yes” would potentially fly me to parts of “Western Europe”, sitting before a grand piano whose posh ebony draped with vivid reflections of the rising Eiffel Tower or the grand vista of the Palace of Westminster. His generosity, evident in the RM50 bill enveloping his business card which I had hesitantly accepted was tempting for a nod. 

Twenty

I turned twenty last month. It was a frightening event that defies celebration, be it in the form of engaging in a gift-accepting ritual, organizing a party, or putting on a (heaven forbid) conical hat. Frightening, because it was akin to standing on the railway, looking at the dashing train in the horizon – mere twinkle in the eyes, but augmenting in size and closing in distance as the clock ticks away.

Curiously I decided that the incumbent thing to do on such day was to anchor before a Word document on my computer screen and churn out words after words. It was a chronicle of the first twenty years of my life.