#talent platform

  Now, we have all sailed on different ships yet the path we have travelled remains the same. Well I’m not talking about people from the 19th century.

  So let's take a journey down the memory lane, shall we?

  Morning,the first day of school

Me:Dad why do I have to go to school?

Dad:Give it a few years and I think you'll know the answer.

  Oh yeah it's tough. Strange women steering traumatized children away from their protectors, the air shrill with innocent cries and.

WAIT WHAT!?

Well I thought the same too then. First day of school and the emotion everyone displays is of a man stepping into king kong's den. Errr not the banglar one, the original scary one.

  Though I dare say, it didn't last long. The two years that followed was childhood at its sugary, spicey and everything nicey best. On those days the hot wheels and legos seemed as enjoyable as PS3, XBOX, and every other gaming console in existence today. Hmm, are we missing chemical X? Okay well here it comes...tension running away, a ferocious confrontation brewing and, and...and *** smacks a toy car into ***. What, I can’t commit assault on reputation here? Okay not quite the sensational controversy and I don't even remember if that was actually the case but, hey, we were toddlers.

Kinder garden picked up from where the chapter of pre-school left off. Studies became a touch harder. But nowhere near as hard as the absurd renditions of dancing queen our batch had to sing in chorus for who knows what reason. Throw in meticulously prepared, expertly put together, masterfully presented…I think they were annual functions or sports days or something. Point is school events were serious business then.

  First day, Elementary School

Dad: So what do you think now?

Me: Well I've got more questions now! For starters, what's with this uniform, why have we gotta put this one?

Dad: I'll tell you the same thing I said on your first day of school

  Alright now we're proper school children. If you wanna know what that signifies then it’s the fact FUN JUST GOT REAL. Things were still PG rated then so can’t use the S word at the start

Let’s see, the enthralling activities we used to engage in during class......mhmm oh yeah writing down names of places and animals (now now can’t deny that name place animal thing was fun), flicking pens towards one another(for one second do not doubt the fierce competition of pen fight) and trying to guess the name of a movie that the other person would indicate(so what kids nowadays prefer games about hanging real people rather than hangman). Four years seemed to have ended even before we begun(yes at that time, the same feeling was applicable to exams too)

  First day, Class 5.

Dad: You look oddly nervous.

Me: Well yeah, they've saying all kinds of stuff about the place and how you gotta be real good to cut it.

Dad: (breaks into a laughter) Grief kiddo...okay look, the moment you step inside, you wouldn’t wanna' turn back.

Me: Errrr...why is that?

Dad: 'Cause right now, you might just be going home.

  The home in question? You know the answer.

That day we took a step into what was perhaps the most special phase in our youth. That very memory laced first day in SRU. What can I say about it? Lunch used to cost 35 bucks or so then! But nah wait, there were things more precious 35 bucks, in fact more than 35 carat diamonds. The first chance for our feet to grace or rather be graced by the very iconic Red Court. Be in no doubt, tennis balls or even pepsi ones didn’t stop our masters of the beautiful game from threading them defence splitting passes or nestling the top corner. Okay maybe the latter was an over statement but hey. Our first rendezvous with the famed dome, the STM hall etched with so many pivotal moments. And heart stopping ones(yes O and A level still haunt us!). And last but perhaps in importance first, the place that bears silent witness to the story of our youth, the cafeteria.

  Seems so long ago doesn’t it? Sure, we can now walk into some posh Italian restaurant, fancily placed at a glitzy london street. But the fettuccine alfredo just isn't a match for that creamy chicken patties from the old days. Every time a credit card is raised from a pocket, I'd pay its full worth to trade back those fights over cafeteria coupons. Mind you, someone else’s credit card not my own.

Errrr okay actually most of us may have to be satiated with Mcdonalds still but you get what I'm saying

  Classes 5 to 8 took us on like a boat in its full grace, gliding down a sharp stream. I'm not gonna lie, a fair few glitches and egos may have popped in every batch but even those may seem precious now, every bit, every second of it all.

  And then we head to class 9 and 10, the capping moment of secondary school and yes if you listen to the elders, the life defining, life setting, life threatening, okay sorry, O levels. But if we take a closer look, what we'd really see is, life is good.

So what have we got here…

The first real taste of regular red court action, we held our own in the tournaments against the big boys, and for most, the first real taste of school without any class. The cafeteria then and still now feels more a safe haven than probably any other place we've been.

      The Final Ride.

REJOICE REJOICE, THE WAR HATH ENDED, WE HAVE VICTORYYYYY!

Not exactly the king of Rohan but close enough were our feelings at crossing and for most conquering O levels. Those who didn’t are still winners in real life. So what was left, the last two years, the best two years, of the best part of our lives.

  Oh yeah it was blow the alarm, the sun has come.

Mama its time ring some old fun.

No, no teenage mothers,

We do it like a scholastican.

  Okay sorry but you get the passion rippling through the air, as the Red Court sizzled with net breaking and in some cases even, leg breaking action. The STM hall resonated with overwhelming overflow of intellect and excellence. Man those looked like some really cheap certificates.

    AS came, AS went, we fought we fought, university acceptance at stake. And By the Grace of ALLAH All of it we aced.

And the teachers celebrated too, marking down the attendance of a classroom filled with ghosts so ours don’t get marked out. SERIOSULY WHY DO YOU EVEN BOTHER WHEN YOU KNOW NO ONE ATTENDS CLASSES IN THEIR FINAL YEAR.

  The Final Moments of a Dream: 

Dad: Don’t you have anything to ask?

Me(smiling): I have found all my answers.

Yes it was here, the last time the music would go up, the culmination of 16 years of emotion, love, compassion, in short, life.

Every step seemed to land on puddle of memories, splashing hither and thither the smiles, the tears, the weasel like attempts to run away when Briggy was near.

  A shout of too bad and good job for batches before 2011, for being declared sinners for employing colours and the skill employed in smuggling them in.

Actually to batch 2013 too cause Johnny Halder pulled a JohnyGaddar on us.

SERIOUSLY JOHN SIR YOU THOUGH GAZUMPING OUR COLOURS WOULD STOP US!?

  And what a tragedy it would account to, if the moments so close to our hearts, were not captured in the palm of our hands. My hat tips, to the scholastican photography teams over the years. Just a phrase, I don’t really wear hats.

  And every cake must have an icing on top, the creative geniuses of Scholastica churned out, churned out genius ideas of their own, the batch photographs of 2012, 2013, 2014 and others can attest. And well to put the icing on the combined cake of all scholastican generations, my hat goes off completely for batch 14. The red court that has lit our hearts and our lives, was lit in a sea of candles, eventually carving the famed scholastican logo out of golden glow.

    Turn the pyramids plastic, bring down the Big Ben

Scholastica is still where class and excellence stands.

    WHAT HAPPENNED!?

ALRIGHT COLOURS ARE OUT!!!

  Our skins had experienced every shade of paint there, we had left the school’s water supply bare and…no no no, the words don’t rhyme anymore. Cause there are no words left. The song was at its final chorus, time had run out.

  We wanted to go back but all that could be done was watch as the gates closed for the last time. But I know, I know it’s all just drops in a great sea.

  16 years, one family (fights are common in every family), one home. We have lived a dream, no regrets, no complains.

  Looking back at what was. Is it because we want to cling to past victories, because we are bitter with past defeats? Perhaps not. Perhaps it is because what we have lived is still with us. As prayers from loved ones, as memories of all that was done, as the friends who’ve held on. No we’re not bitter nor are we clinging on to the past, cause it is the past that drives us, that reminds us all that we’ve been blessed with and tells us to live all that’s there in this life to the full.