Four Leaves to a Clover: Knob to Turn Time

I honestly think that sometimes, we should have this knob that could rewind time, adjusting it to the moment when everything was charmingly simple. And if anything was like that, it had to be those nights having English lessons.

No, serious! It may seem weird for you, yet, well, looking down the road, I've been there for at least 6 years. If I shut my eyes and run back up the road, it'll come streaming back to me.

My first class. Watching 'The Man in the Iron Mask'. Then the huge new premise with the gloriously large library. During breaks, as if a fire alarm, students from other classes roaring from the corridors, chasing sometimes, screaming in the bathroom. The robbery, whose receptionist's cries were initially thought to be screaming in the bathroom.

Friday Nights with the unusually chatty gang. Thursday Nights with a closely knit threesome. And Wednesday Nights (oh now there'll be an empty box in my schedule)...

The Taiping brochure. The humorous writing by children upon the wall. Our writings on the wall. The presentations, movies and language games. Alice-in-Wonderland-Bunny essay. The coloured paper! And all the "fun stuff" (inside joke) that came with it.

A Scene I remember from (gosh!) 2 years ago

"We want Teacher Jo." ~Hazel and Vincent~

"No, we'll get her again this year!" ~Joyce~

"No, WE will!" "Nope!" "How would you know?" "We'll see."

All the way up the lift they argued and argued. Then they awaited her arrival.

She walked into our class.

She didn't see the shocked faces as she slammed the door behind her. Those who saw me laughing hysterically then now know why.

I guess she does bring the "fun stuff". She's hilarious! It seemed almost as if chasing a drama, a weekly dose of laughter, even dark comedy and her 'cicak-paranoia-cum-phobia'. Something is bound to pop up each time. Our last lesson gave me a tummy ache! (DEAR someone, you should have came for it. AHA, you can't kill my brain cells from here)

And along the way there were people who came and left, sometimes without a trace. Then there are the ones who were here till the very end of it all. There are those I enjoy gossiping with, those whom I take pleasure in scaring (to the extent that they think I'm evil), those who are simply too hard to decipher (or how shall I put it...they had 'unique' perspectives), those who talk too much, or talk too little, childhood friend, supposedly-like-childhood friend, partners in crime...