As I made my way to the Asrama on the first day of the new school term, a sense of emptiness enveloped me. I had no grand expectations for what lay ahead, just the awareness that it was a continuation of my life, albeit under stricter rules.
Upon arrival, I noticed the new Form 1 students. Their arrival had been quiet, and their numbers were still relatively small compared to our batch. At this point, only the front dormitories showed signs of their occupancy; the rear ones remained empty.
Inside the school, I found myself in the same class as my classmates from the previous year. Few significant changes had occurred, except for the addition of non-Asrama Malay students. While the class was stimulating, it was predominantly composed of Chinese and FELDA students.
Over the course of the year, the RK class Asrama mates from the morning session last year also joined us in the afternoon session. Their classroom was next to ours, resulting in a constant gathering of nearly thirty Asrama students in that area.
The limited seating on the Asrama bus often led to the practice of seat reservation before departure, occasionally leading to disputes among students. Some even marked their seats with books, a practice that now seems amusing but sometimes led to heated arguments.
For the first time, the Asrama introduced a segregation system based on students' performance in the final Form 1 exams. The top achievers were placed in 2L1, the most elite class with around sixteen students.
During this period, I didn't consider myself an exceptional student. Even in the previous year's exams, I had barely managed to get more than five 'A's. Many of my male classmates outperformed me academically.
For instance, Bel, a student from my school, was considered among the top student in the Asrama. Beyond our school, another student named Maro (a pseudonym) from a different school consistently outshone everyone. I lagged behind them in terms of academic performance.
Nevertheless, I was unfazed by this disparity. My primary concern was the constant scrutiny of the enigmatic warden. All other considerations seemed less significant.
Gradually, Dorm 6 became more organized, with diligent cleaning banishing the once-present dust. I settled into the rhythms of Asrama life. The dorm's proximity to the laundry line was a significant advantage, making it easier to hang laundry, especially before the obligatory card-punching ritual at the office.
As I reminisce, memories of my Dorm 6 companions resurface. This group had a mix of students from my school and Tasek school. My interactions with my schoolmates fostered camaraderie, while my limited interactions with those from Tasek remained friendly.
Over time, a new group of Form 1 students joined Dorm 6, all of them second-call students. It was clear that these newcomers faced the same rigorous challenges, including encounters with the enigmatic warden and the intimidating seniors.
For my part, I didn't have the time or inclination to subject the juniors to harassment. I was dealing with my own trials and tribulations. However, there was one junior in my dorm to whom I gave a nickname, one that carried dignity and avoided embarrassment. Surprisingly, the lad took pride in this moniker.
I couldn't help but feel sympathy for those burdened with derogatory or humiliating nicknames that they couldn't escape. The Asrama had a habit of replacing given names with such monikers, perpetuating a unique naming tradition.
But the Asrama's atmosphere remained unchanged. The autocratic Encik Hussin continued to impose his "educational" methods with unwavering determination. I had grown accustomed to the routines and could predict his actions. This had become my normal.
I could predict which homeworks he would inspect each morning, and detention following the jemaah prayer to attend his sermons no longer bothered me. I was always prepared to be summoned to his office to endure his scolding. Resistance was futile, so I persevered to avoid further discord.
Due to this Asrama's tumultuous atmosphere, I cherished my time in school. Attending regular school provided a break from the oppressive rules of the Asrama, a brief escape into an environment where I could express my emotions more freely and find inner peace. The pressures that were suffocating in the Asrama didn't hold as much power here.
The contrast with regular school students was stark. The strict regulations during school hours couldn't compare to the suffocating rules of the Asrama. For me, the rules of school had no impact on my emotional well-being. I couldn't say if others felt the same way.
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