imagine.

The recess bell had already gone for 10 minutes and my teacher was still holding us back, recapping with us what had been learnt in the day’s lesson. There was a storm raging in our hearts, though on the outside we had seemed most angelic. My partner grumbled, “Walao… when is she going to finish lor? You think we want to answer your questions so much ah? Basket. We just want to eat our recess lar.”

I gave an approving nod and continued staring down at my notebook, in which all my assignments and tasks for the days ahead were recorded down so that I could plan ahead; in particular I was looking at the page for week number 9. I was contemplating how I would study for the 5 tests scheduled in week 9, figuring how to complete my entire load of assignments in 2 days just before the Lunar New Year, how long it would take to assemble the last of the 70 invitations for the Prefects’ Investiture just around the bend and lastly, probably the most importantly, wondering when the teacher was going to release us for our recess.

Soon the discussion, which apparently seemed not to be making any progress, ended. The teacher delivered the final blow as she unsheathed the last sword from her bag: the Extensive Reading Programme (ERP) assignment. Unable to hold his emotions any longer, my classmate cried out, “Walao! What is this ma’am! We have like 5 tests in week 9, then we don’t have the time to go study this, study that, and now you still come and torture us like that? Like what the…”

This was followed by a synchronized exclamation of the word, ‘walao’. She did not attempt to reason, but gave out the papers with an exaggerated smile on the face, ‘Take this as your New Year present then.’

We were finally released and my classmates all sped frantically down the length of the corridor, in fear that no more food would be left for them...…

“Eh guys, if you don’t want to listen to me ar, then you don’t learn anything in the end, end up you cannot do your test in week 9, don’t come and blame me okay?”

This was followed by silence almost immediately. Somehow, I felt closer to him as compared to our English teacher, and the class probably felt so too.

“Kay. Now we can start our lesson. Quick, quick, everyone take out your worksheet or not no time to finish.”

Our chemistry teacher continued with his lesson, teaching with his army-cum-singaporean styled speech, which we had no trouble understanding. He was only 22 years old this year and was waiting for his university term to start.

At the end of the lesson, he distributed a piece of worksheet and instructed the class to complete it by tomorrow. As usual, we complained. This time round, the response was largely different. “Your test is like, week 9, I give you some practice you still don’t want to do? So little some more, go home like 10 minutes can gao dim₁.”

Satisfied with the response, I filed up the worksheet neatly, while I saw, in the corner of my eye, a crumpled piece of the ERP assignment lying in a corner of the room.

Hhaa that was my ERP assignment... dunno whether i should edit it, cos it's kinda informal. but again, the topic is: How does your language and that of your peers differ from that of a different generation of speakers, or indeed, of another culture? Write a personal narrative essay reflecting on this issue. Yeaaa i am rushing out all my work today and tomorrow so that i can have a peaceful Lunar New Year... haii, will type more later. Dinner!

8:39 PM