Saturday, November 15, 2008

The Homecoming

Before I went back to my dormitory life, I (sort of) went back to my high school life and this wasn’t any sort of a time machine or turning back. It was more of a homecoming.

Monday afternoon, just before I ride the bus from out home, I went to my high school. I was just supposed to help them organize their present school paper but then again, I found pleasure in meeting high school friends so I spent some hours chatting with them. Others may say and think that after graduating, I was believe to forget everything which reminds me of high school life and go on with my present existence (I mean, college). After all, I already graduated and I got no commitment to their problems right now… but I digress. I am still a Montessorian by heart.

After graduating from high school, I felt that responsibility in my veins that somehow, I should be caring about the people who cared for me while I was still studying there. I owe them a lot. I owe them the fortune I have at the moment and I should try to repay them even though I know that I cannot. Most of my philosophies (and not to mention my wisdom) today are product of the combined values and virtues from books and teachers and to know that they are actually having difficulties with the positions I handled before makes me really affected. Their problems are also mine. I still had that attachment with my alma mater that even though I do believe that I did not learn enough to make me shine in college lessons, I learned more than enough to make me wiser in my decisions and be the strongest person to face my destined trials in life. At some point in my life today, I occasionally remember those familiar faces who had been with me when I was less mature than today and I do miss them, especially those hassle-free weeks which we do nothing but to laugh and make fun of the teachers who happened to understand all our needs (and one of those needs is enjoyment). There is still this tie that connects my busy planet and their current needs.

High school still feels like home. I honestly felt like I still belong there. Months ago, I treated it as a place where I go because I want to laugh and feel happy. It’s a place where I find my fun and caring friends whom I treated as my own brothers and sisters. Today, I am considering it as an origin of my principles and dreams and the source of my determination. They made me. Maybe it’s because the conversations I had with my friends still lingers in those pink walls. Maybe because the laughter I had is still recorded on those uncomfortable ceiling fans. Maybe because the home works and quizzes I peeked and copied from my classmates is still on the memory of blackboards (and oh, yes, I admit that I did it but this isn’t applicable in my college life. I am not doing it today). Maybe because the tears I cried because of life is still marked on those patient armchairs. As I set a foot on those stairs, I remembered how I used to be. Like I often come to school before as the earliest bird, maybe two hours before the classes usually starts, feel the morning breeze and see how students deliver their goodbyes to their parents, like I perspired a lot in those tournaments of Badminton and even have my feet injured, like I run fast through those stairs, never missing even a single step, like I usually stays on the Nipa hut whenever I don’t feel like listening to what my teacher will be lecturing and pretend that I don’t feel well and I can’t attend my classes (my apologies to moms who tried everything to protect their beloved children from wrongdoings and yet they learned an excuse whenever they feel lazy to study).

It was just months ago since I started living college life and surprisingly, I felt that I matured so much over those months. I grew… and I am very happy to realize that. Yet somehow, though I believe that I changed for the better, I am still unswerving and serving the institution who have touched my life and lead me to the pedestal where I am now.

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