Yes, another weird peculiar thing about me is I like to do most of the things I frequently do in dark, alone. Things here refers to ironing the shirt, sahur, making myself a cup of hot Milo, doing the dishes and etc...oh even typing this entry. I haven't the slightest inkling where do I get this odd gene. Obviously not from the parents and the siblings. They like lights, like major lights! Now that's a tongue twister. Perhaps I'm a mysterious type of guy who enjoys being in the dark. The serenity, the tranquility, the mystery in which you just can listen to the blade of hanging fan hovering in mid air, the howling of the wind, the sound of these fingers dancing awkwardly on the keyboard and so on. The ambiance is mysterious and I pretty much am liking that. If I can even read in the dark, I will. It's just that it would be the most impossible thing to do.
p.s. I have two friends cum housemates who sleep in the living room, so it's not that creepy after all
Time sure flies fast. We have approximately 2 more weeks before we wrap up our practicum. I'm in a midst of having a mix feeling. As much as I want it to finish, I just can't bear losing my little imps, the students, if you don't get what I meant.
I have vowed before not to get attached with them, either physically or emotionally, but I failed. I have enjoyed having them around. They're like my brothers and sisters. Some of my form 4 students too are slowly getting out of their shell, or comfort zone, or whatever you may call it.
The thought of parting with the students sends shiver down my spine. I loath leaving someones who have been a part of me. These students are indeed a part of me now because they are my 1st and maybe my last students. I'm not going to be a teacher in the future, I have made my decision. It's just not my uber forte. Hence the nostalgic ambience that lingers around whenever I gaze upon the final week of the practicum.
Thus, I'm just going to treasure rest of the available time I'm with them.
This was taken during our buka puasa. They are some of my Form 6 students
p.s. I'm leaving on a jet plane, errr not really but what the heck I'm leaving soon!
When I first started my practicum, I was up heaved with determination, strong will, extra enthusiasm, you can see a shining halo on top of the head and my eyes glaring with angel light it will burn your eyes if they practically meet mine.
However, the expectation crashed me deep down four feet below. All those fancy feelings faded unexpectedly, as if the strong wind at the school blew them away. I have loved my students without any single doubt but their attitudes towards the language is what weighing me down.
They take English very nonchalantly, oblivious toward the importance of the language for their future. To make matters worst, I can't use full English as the medium of instruction, it's as if I'm speaking literally to the four walls and I bet the students will take me as an alien, speaking unintelligible alien language.
Nonetheless, it's entering the 9th weeks and I must say, all the struggles of devising interesting lesson plans for them really paid off, to say the least. Some of my students are starting to show interests in the language. Some of them will constantly come to me and ask how to improve their English. To me, that's an achievement of a lifetime.
Changing the students' way of looking at English is not a piece of cake, nor it is as simple as eating it. Hence, when your students come looking for you and secretly ask for your assistance, that's by far memorable.It means something, it HAS to mean something. Thus, for the left of the times I have with them, I'll treasure and make full use of the time. I want them to be inspired of starting to look at the language at a very different perspective. If they view English all this while using a binocular, I want to provide them with a kaleidoscope, so that they know, the language has many forms and shapes that are very interesting and gallantly enjoyable.
p.s.Stand Up class! Good Morning Sir Arshad..handsome! I love it when you do that :)
To a certain extent I feel like my chest is about to explode,
It is due to that NST Press Training.
I don't want to elaborate more on that, it's like putting salt on the wound or having a knife being stabbed numerously at your chest, hyperbole, I know.
You see, up to this moment, I haven't have the slightest clue of what I'll become in the future. It's a very dark sky I foresee looming ahead. I'm indecisive about what I'm going to work or do when I have successfully graduated, which is within a year.
However, one thing for certain that I really want to do is involved in the journalism industry, that's like a childhood dream.
I know my writing is nothing near magnificent, mind-blowing or jaw dropping but I believe I have something special to offer, I write with my heart. Cliche as it is but that's the truth.
Hence, when I was enlightened of the news, I felt terrible as someone hadn't informed me earlier. Perhaps I could do something, I WOULD do anything to have that privilege.
I don't want to talk about our faculty's way of selecting the candidates but for heaven sake, I strongly and firmly believe that the opportunity should be, at least, prioritized to those who are graduating.
I'm way beyond disappointed, it's like watching your dream been crushed without no remorse in front of your very own eyes.
Alas , what have I penned here will do me no good.
I can't wait to have a steady job, to be an established person with a lucrative amount of wages and own a house. So that I can cater my adopted child with rains of loves, affection, amor and everything I could offer to him/her. My paternal side is excessively overwhelming me. I have loads of love in this tiny heart of mine that I want to shower my child with tonnes of love.
Sometimes I think, no matter how many times you reflect yourselves, no matter how many times you say you'll change for the better, no matter how many times you try to convince people that you'll not do the same mistake twice, They are all just words, mere words. Either written or spoken.