Love is so short...forgetting is so long.
pablo neruda
i met s11 during the first half of may 2006 and saw them again in mid 2007...in between this span of time, i've seen some leaving the class while others stayed behind and worked the hard way. jc life is too short, with little time given to foster and nurture what matters most: relationships and inner growth. like many, they felt the brunt.
their vague affection for each other amid the snapping politics... remained even though the class gradually dwindled in size. still, i remember our early days in com lab 2, where lesson can leap anywhere from the intoxicating science of the x-men to the deathly detached sense of collective silence on capital punishment...
s11. somewhat boisterious in jc 1 but grew tired in faith as the terms rolled into year two. something else kept the class special and you are remembered for that always. i will always remember well your goodwill on the night so many of you turned up to say goodbye as i left for study overseas...the kind notes and jersey you sent to cheer me on cold and boring days alone in melbourne. the reunion we had again last july and the sacred ties and notes that made us one in that darkened room on our last day at school. you took the step to make your feelings known and helped all to recognise all that we have failed to value and forgive.
reconciliations are rare in the experience of most students during college life since time is so short. still, i take pride in being part of your renewal, your forgiveness, your letting go as we wrapped up 2 very intense, yet distant and significant years in the time u have known one another...
i hope your friendships remain and continue to grow in the many years to come...* * *
thank u too for being and wanting to be...
a very special part of my teaching journey...
a clear and shining light...
we don't get much of these sights in singapore though many are also contained in several animal shelters here. one only needs to step out into cities like bangkok or phnom penh to see stray dogs wandering the city lanes in search of food and shelter...tough tramps of an improvished life that largely depend on its buddhist economy for sustenance and the will to survive.
"Away academic muse! I have no need of that pedantic old prude. I invoke the friendly, urban, living muse to help me sing of good dogs, poor dogs, mangy dogs, the dog everyone kicks aside because they are diseased and flea-bitten, except the poor man whose companions they are, and the poet who looks upon them with a brotherly eye...I sing the poor dog, the many dog, the homelss, roving dog, the circus dog...the luckless dogs whether it is those who wander alone through the winding ravines of huge cities or those who, with their blinking and spiritual eyes, have said to the abandoned man: "Take me with you, and out of our joint misery perhaps we can make a kind of happiness."
over the pits that loom ahead. plan well and avoid booby-traps. interpret within easy grasp and push an argument, through... with perfect teenage not kiddy clarity. avoid sweeping statements in the mind. bolster observations with modern evidence and ultimately, to write with focus, empathy and wisdom, knowing the sensitivity we all seek in our lives might shine in the sensible lines you are committed to write. 
these days are worth more than memory, beyond the fond sentiments we had. we claim back that morning, that circle we shared. we had a beginning and it goes on without end. this hour seals back the blessings gained: forgiveness and faith, renewal and grace. those missed and missing moments are filled again with the song of our names as we we run towards our journey's end...
that was in the morning... 
organic, countryside philosophy given to 06S03 (Bollywood Veggies) ...alot more focus on grasslands, tastebuds and wild fingers this time. one class of food and we find a greater palate for knowledge. another class of herbs, a cup of nature and the palmprints of ivysingh to swap, zap and slap the office of state doctrines away.
red pods of banana flowers fall. collect pools of noon rain. sealed.
to o6 s03, s22 and s11...the As are near...u know what these words mean in light of the immense pressures ahead...hard work sucks...and one is tempted to feel quite pressing and 'impossible', many a time...keep steady padawans. you'' survive this journey. hang in there....there are hands waiting to catch , not maul you.
