| Those were the days. Days when life is no more than sneaking notes around during physics lessons, or illegally keeping food in our lockers.
Days when we thought that we were old enough to look nonchalant, but young enough to have fun. The days in RGS has to be the most fruitful times in my school years so far. And more specifically, the last two years in RGS were the best I could wish for.
Secondary 3:
We were not new to each other. Having spent the previous 2 years together in the same programme, attending the same courses and camps, we knew everybody at the most minimal level.
I thought this was nothing more than just 2 more years of education. But as predictable as it sounds, I have gained far more than that. School went on as usual, but somehow somewhere along the way in the year, we all changed. As we grew more familiar with each other, we became more and more outrageous.
Owing credit to the most talented creative people in the class, we joked, teased, challenged and ridiculed everything we came across. We became a class of our own.
Secondary 4:
As we grew bolder, we decided to take on the whole school. Credit to our musically talented people, we showed the school who we are. Founder's Day, National Day, Teacher's Day, blah blah blah...the occassion was not important. We just decided to go up there, sing, perform and have fun.
It was not our intention to forge a supposed class unity. Puh-lease, so cliche~ Disagreements, fustrations, arguments are not unheard of, but at the end of the day, we are still all friends.
The end of the year came quickly, but it was no big deal. Somehow, perhaps we already knew that most of us have bonds stronger than a mere school separation can tear apart. To leave school was not a sad occassion. It was a joy. To see all of us graduate, to grow up, to mature and leave our childish acts behind.
Childish acts they may be, they form the sweetest memories I can possibly hope for. We still get together now and then, no doubt still with the same warmth and love, sharing hugs, add a little squeals here and there, I can almost think we were back to the past.
Perhaps as time goes by, I would find myself losing that girlish sweet part of me. But at least I know I can still hold on to the part of my memory that is labelled: 4/11 '96
A class of our own indeed. My favourite class.
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