Between my youthful demeanour, my undying zest and my immortally attractive personality, I’ve never had the impression that I was way too old. It’s interesting then how the sum of my years was abjectly made known to me today, as I visited my old cell. I mentored a cell in JC – and now some of the people I mentored are mentors of the same cell, a fact which is uplifting and depressing at the same time.
I came late purposely because they were somewhere watching a video of the adult pastor whom I see all too regularly. Having entered the room where they’d be coming shortly, I was followed by this guilty-looking Sec 4 RGS girl who evidently didn’t know where the rest were because she came only once a month on average.
Me: Oh so your dad’s a regular?
Girl: Yeah! He’s an officer too.
Me: So what’s his rank?
Girl: Uh… COS..?
Me: Huh, Company Orderly Sergeant? Isn’t he a bit ol – oh, Chief of Staff??
Girl: Chief of Staff, General Staff or something.
Me: He’s a BG???
Girl: BG? Oh yeah… one star or something, I don’t know! Is that very good?
Me: Yeah that’s just one rank below the Chief of Army!
Girl: Oh, you mean Uncle Ravi?
Almost fell off my seat as she made remarks about how Uncle Ravi and his wife were vegetarian and very thin. I was reduced to some cursory remarks on the admirable profundity of his moustache.
But in any case it was really really nice being around young ‘uns whom I used to cajole into sharing persuade even younger ‘uns to do the same, even though almost all of them shared about strange and unfamiliar concepts like “homework”, “holidays” and “exams”. About CCA competitions and how their self-worth was increasingly tied to GPA and number of As in the upcoming block tests and how they hadn’t touched their holiday homework and their science experiments weren’t yielding any result – and how nevertheless (almost like an obligatory insert), God will provide and find a way out.
I miss being teenage.