A bright and glorious Saturday morning arrived, appearing much like the countless Saturdays that had come before it. Little did I know at that time that my life was about to undergo a profound transformation on this very special day.
At precisely nine o'clock, after a brief stop at the Hutan Bandar restaurant area, my family and I reached the revered grounds of the Asrama. Despite the prominent presence of the RTM building on the horizon, finding the exact location of the Asrama proved to be a challenge, eluding our determined search.
The directions provided by our FELDA representative back home were frustratingly vague, only mentioning its proximity to RTM. Despite our sincere efforts, we found ourselves trapped in a confusing maze, lost in endless circles.
It was fate, in the form of a kind gentleman who bore a resemblance to my father, that finally took pity on us and showed us the way. His compassionate intervention spared us the embarrassment of aimless wandering, entangled in confusion. His gracious guidance led us on the right path, and we were no longer lost, making our way to the Asrama without further confusion.
As the Asrama came into view, a deep sense of stillness settled over me. I stood there in awe of the significant changes that awaited me. I took in my surroundings, noticing the relatively small size of the Asrama, which contrasted with its profound importance.
Accompanied by my father, I hurried into the office building, where I encountered a group of fellow newcomers, their faces filled with eagerness as they embarked on a new chapter in their young lives. My father efficiently handled the necessary bureaucratic procedures while I watched with a mix of excitement and apprehension.
Inside the office, a tall and impeccably dressed figure welcomed us with a warm and hospitable smile. He exuded confidence and trustworthiness, immediately putting us at ease. My father and this gentleman engaged in friendly conversation, punctuated by moments of shared laughter and camaraderie.
As I diligently completed the required paperwork, my attention was drawn to the expansive hall in front of me. I couldn't see it in great detail from where I stood, but its resemblance to a dining hall left no doubt that it would play a significant role in the days ahead.
This moment marked a monumental turning point – my initiation into the dormitory. My parents had already said their goodbyes, leaving me surrounded by unfamiliar faces. A mix of emotions washed over me – a blend of nervousness and uncertainty, disorientation and dizziness, fatigue and hunger.
An empty bunk beckoned, and I decided to make Dorm 3 my new home. The dormitory, for the most part, was empty, with many students gathered in the common room on the lower floor, engaging in lively conversations with their senior peers, no doubt.
Suddenly, a fellow student, with a sleek Walkman in hand, approached me, and I greeted him with a shy smile. He, too, was a new Form 1 student and a roommate in Dorm 3. As we exchanged pleasantries, we introduced ourselves to each other.
As the day unfolded, more students trickled into the dormitory, and I became increasingly self-conscious and uneasy. Starting a new chapter in life was no small feat, but I was fortunate to have a fellow FELDA friends by my side. The fact that familiar faces were nearby provided some comfort in this unfamiliar territory.
The influx of Form 1 students was overwhelming, and memorizing their names proved to be a daunting task. Even after our initial introductions, remembering their names proved to be a challenging endeavour, requiring repeated inquiries about their identities.
Interestingly, many of these students had reluctantly adopted unique nicknames that were unfamiliar to me. This phenomenon remained puzzling, but I decided to embrace their chosen monikers, which reflected the intellectual prowess and creative flair of this group of Asrama students.
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