Time is a curious matter. To win against time’s slow decaying prowess, here briefly is my personal account, put in words, of what is one of the most important events of the past months.
The week was one of celebration. A five day full of masters of academic fields walking past you in what glorious looking robes that befitted their stature. Days where the world unfolded into one spot on the good earth, apparent in the multitude of visitors, each donning their own pride that was unique to their own people. That was a time when families would rejoice for the accomplishment of their own members; graduation week.
Having said that, i was not entirely sure whether i should proceed to attend my own ceremony. I had my own reasons, mostly swayed by my conscience with compassion, or rather love, for a certain someone at its core.
And at one point of reassuring myself in the mind that the dislocation happened.
It was Friday, and right after Jumma prayer was the ceremony. It got quite late. I rushed off to the Arts Centre, only to stumble upon my friends along the way. Bless them. They instinctively helped me into my robe, making sure i was all dressed up. Though, in all honesty, i was still debating within myself, as paragraphed above.
And in between the two, something cracked. I looked to the left and my suspicion was confirmed. The arm was dangling in an awkward position, evident of the dislocated shoulder above. Of all places and time, destiny chose this a befitting venue for this honourable guest!
Wincing as i move, i walked like a drunkard, swaying left and right, the pain coming in split seconds. And the fact that looking at all the faces around me, looking concerned, that i made up my mind. I realized the day was never about the one being celebrated, it was about those celebrating; never about me, but about them. Not my having my moment, but them enjoying every second of the festivity. And the family at home. The very action that i found so selfish became apparently a selfless act. With that, i walked on the stage with the makeshift red sling to the joy and laughter of the makeshift family. And that was touching in every sense.
Alya, thank you. I will forever remember the angelic red jacket.
Norma, Priya, i am honoured to have you two. Truly.
Photographers, i hope you had good shots of the moment. Alia, thanks for the outdoor photos, and Syazwan, for the on-stage photos. There is room for improvement.
And thank you all, in your togetherness for the end.
Oh such an end it was.
Posted on August 24, 2011
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