Skip to main content

Literary nightmare, literally...



The semester has drawn to a close, and as always the students feel a need to celebrate after completing their final paper.

It is a time of joy and happiness. A time where they get to know that their sleepless nights studying and completing assignments has paid off.

Here I am, at the KFC in Jusco here in Taman Universiti, with a group of my First Year TESL students, having the time of my life talking with them about how the semester had been for them. We all joke about and tell funny stories, recollecting the good and the not so good times we had during the semester... And then to wrap things up, they ask me to make a formal speech.

Everyone pipes down and focuses their attention to me.

I look around the table, focus on each smiling face, and suddenly feel myself transported to the times when I was in class with them...

They were a mixed bunch, some very good, some good, some not so, and some quite bad in terms of language proficiency and ability to analyse literature. I remember pushing them hard in class, in their assignments, in their presentations, even in their social network pages. Sometimes I was at wits end just trying make sure they were able to analyse, interpret, and substantiate their views, because they were just so used to very superficial analyses practiced in secondary schools. In every class I was always on about how they had to go deeper into the text, to analyse the text inside and outside, to form matured opinions and be able to express them like adults, instead of schoolchildren...

But in the end they made it...

And my consciousness flashes back to the present, to the smiling eyes waiting for me to speak. Each pair a filled with promise and hope, to fulfill their destinies as future builders of the nation's future.

I am so proud of them.

I smile, and start my speech...

Comments

Abdullah said…
Hey bro... I thought you had punched out for the day..hehehe
izzati fuad said…
nice new template.

and cik lah, you are always a good lecturer and now, i think i can understand how you feel. ^_^
Cat-in-Sydney said…
Father of Biscuit,
My Mama said how come she didn't have English literature back when she was studying at UTM? It was more or less like what she studied at secondary school, lucky she went to a good one, or else.... hahahaha... purrr...meow!
Abdullah said…
Ijat - Thank you, on both the template and the compliment... You are just beginning to feel the wonders of the teaching world... Stick around - it gets better :)

Cat - that's cos ur mama didn't take TESL..hehehe...
Cat-in-Sydney said…
Huh? UTM got TESL now? Serious? purrr...meow!
hilmihamzah.com said…
Hey at least the literary nightmare was not that nightmarish at KFC huhu..

Well, the literature works well for the romantics. Perhaps there should be a greater emphasis on romanticism. But again, we don't have to be romantic to under what romance is.
Abdullah said…
Cat - yup.. My bread and butter :)

Hilmi - yarra pleasure... Hehehe... Indee my students learnt about Romanticism and the Romantic Period... And were they shocked to find out that it had nothing to do with trashy novels.. Haha!!
syhcool said…
Next, do the same thing for the pandora jewerly right front side of the shirt.Once you have done Pandora Bangles both front sides of the shirt, you then will need pandora bead to do the back of the shirt. Take the shirt and place the back of the discount pandora shirt so that the direct middle is on the ironing board. The pandora sale back collar of the shirt should be right up at the edge discount pandora charms of the "head" of the ironing board or even slightly hanging off. Pull the bottom buy pandora bracelets of the shirt to create that taught resistance again and pandora beads charms begin to spray the shirt and iron in the opposite direction of pandora earrings the pull.

Popular posts from this blog

Forgiveness

How does one forgive someone who has done them and their loved ones so much wrong?

This is a question that I struggle with, and have always struggled with for a long time. 
How does one push past the pain and suffering that a person had willingly caused, worse yet, caused to someone that they loved. We stand at the sidelines, and feel ourselves slighted, yet the pain we feel is minuscule, compared to the earth-shattering hurt our loved one experiences. Yet we are powerless, drowning in a helplessness, grasping for any lifeline that can pull ourselves out from the deep. 
How can we let go when hatred is all we know. A hatred that festered from seeds of dislike. This poison that we feed ourselves. Yet it is all we know. 
How does one tell oneself to let go?
If a person murders your son, and returns a month later, saying he is genuinely sorry; what would you do? He comes in and says he will pay for the cleaning bill, to wipe the blood stains off the floor, and to send the carpet for dry…

The End

I am in a hotel room.

It is unclear who else is in the room. It must be my family. But I am uncertain. I know I am in the room with people I love.

The hotel room is in a building that towers above ground level, and we can see all the houses below.

I am in Hawaii I think. How I know that I do not know. All I know is that we are beside the ocean.

I feel unsettled as I look out the window. Something is compelling me to look outside the window. It is getting dark. But I know by right it should not be dark. It is midday. And then I see it.

In front of me a huge storm cloud is gathering. But I start to quiver because it looks like no ordinary storm. The clouds are pitch black. Black as death. My eyes follow their shape to where they originate. I gasp.

I see a gigantic water spout, a tornado in the ocean, funnelling its energy to the black cloud. The water spout is also pitch black. Rain now pours uncontrollably. It is a hurricane at its full blast, but not just that. It is much, much more.

Aku, Bini dan Ginger Beer

Aku haus...

Tekakku yang kering ini menginginkan rasanya yang menenangkan jiwa itu...

Perasaannya apabila ku menggenggam botol kacanya yang sejuk dan berwap-wap dan mengangkatnya keluar peti ais kecilku, perasaannya seperti seorang kanak-kanak Taman Keramat memegang aiskrim Malaysia 10sen pada hari yang panas membara...

Riang... Nikmat... Penantian yang menyiksakan, tetapi penantian yang lazat...

Dengan pergerakan yang perlahan seperti 'slow-motion' dalam sinetron Indonesia kegemaran surirumah-surirumah di Malaysia, muncung botol Ginger Beer kegemaranku mampir bibirku yang terketar-ketar sedikit, sehinggalah aku dapat rasa cecair yang sejuk membasahi tekakku...

Nikmat...

Sedap tidak terperi...

Aku menghulurkan kepada biniku, dan dia juga meneguk kenikmatan...

Aku menadah tangan meminta kembali Ginger Beer kesayanganku yang berjenama Bundaberg buatan New Zealand.

Saat itu tidak tiba-tiba...

Aku tertanya-tanya... Mata terkebil-kebil...

"Ni saya punya ya Bang..." ujar …