Thursday, December 29, 2005

The Corridor...

It feels like only yesterday that I left primary school. I was yearning to start my 5 years in the secondary school just across the road. It was the school where all the big girls go to; where the kakak's wear turquoise coloured pinafores and kurungs and where the infamous band played every afternoon regardless of the weather. Compared to the adik school, the kakak school seemed so much bigger and better. The primary school was old. Really old. The desks had "moon craters" all over it which made writing rather difficult. The only way to even up the "craters" were to line the desks with layers and layers of drawing block. The corridors were dark and dingy. There were decades old cupboards which occupied half the walk ways. Sometimes I wondered whether any skeleton of a naughty girl from the past would just pop out if I opened any of them. It was on that dark corridor that many of my dreams for the past few nights occured...

I don't know why I have been dreaming of the past so much. Last night I dreamt of my primary school classmate, Khadijah Poh. She was clad in a customary tudung albeit with jeans and a maroon coloured checked blouse. As I walked past her, I found her face so familiar so I turned back and called out to her. She recognised me instantly and told me that she's studying in Pengkalan Chepa. I told her that I'm pursuing my Master's in almost the same field that she is in i.e. Environment protection except that my field is got to do with how corporations are responsible for such protection. She then gave me a book, some sort of an advertorial book on how to protect the environment which is sponsored by several MNC's. I thanked her for it and told her that I will use it for my dissertation.

Crazy dream. I don't know why I dreamt of Khadijah. The last time I met her was in Form 4 when both of us represented our schools for the district level English debate and we didn't even exchange any words; just a smile. Do I miss my old friend Khadijah? Is it a calling that I need to keep in touch with my old friends? That old as they may be...they can help me in achieving my goals still..?

So many of dreams have started at that dingy corridor. That dark...musty...corridor. It was at that corridor that many of the friendships I made in primary school started and ended. Maybe that it why I yearn to go back to that place...to relieve the happy and the sad moments.

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