Encik Hussin's grand motivational program unfolded as planned, but I walked through it with reluctant steps, filled with boredom and frustration. Can anyone truly comprehend the endless torment of enduring continuous lectures, day and night, for an entire week?
Interestingly, despite these talks supposedly being sources of motivation, they had the opposite effect on me, leaving me drained and disheartened. A cloud of sadness descended upon me, and my thoughts constantly returned to the comfort of home, longing for relief from the relentless pressures.
In final day with Encik Hussin, I felt a rush of excitement. This day marked my release from Encik Hussin's clutches, a period that, to my surprise, had lasted only two years, not three.
This time, the Asrama arranged for us to return to our respective hometowns by bus. I boarded the Asrama bus with my Kota friends, my heart filled with eagerness for the long-awaited holidays.
Before we left, we shook hands and hugged Encik Hussin, saying goodbye to him for the last time. As the bus started moving, I cast a final glance at his face, a face that would forever be etched in my memory as a symbol of challenging times at Asrama.
Goodbye, Encik Hussin.
As I stepped into my home, a wave of happiness washed over me. I felt free and peaceful, liberated from the oppressive weight of Asrama. The constant feeling of unease that had plagued me for so long was gone. Life within those walls had been far from perfect, and the fact that I had endured it for two full years was a marvel beyond my understanding. Throughout that difficult time, joy had been rare, and the burden of relentless pressure had become unbearable.
I relished the newfound freedom, savouring the simple pleasures of being at home. Every experience and emotion held deep significance because I knew that such solace couldn't be found within the confines of Asrama. However, at times, the habits I had developed in Asrama lingered, especially during my waking hours.
Sometimes, it felt as though I were still under Encik Hussin's authority, despite the physical distance that now separated us. The spectre of Encik Hussin loomed over my life like a haunting ghost, a constant reminder of the challenges I had faced within Asrama's walls.
At home, there were few distractions, and I intentionally distanced myself from the world of Asrama, even cutting ties with former comrades. Instead, my days unfolded in the warm embrace of family, with the familiar surroundings providing comfort to my restless spirit.
And when moments of idleness lingered, I would hop on my motorcycle, embarking on leisurely rides through my FELDA, soaking in the natural beauty of the area. If boredom crept in, I would seek solace in sleep, a luxury that had been in short supply within Asrama. I confided in my family, expressing my intention to catch up on the sleep I had missed during my time at Asrama, as anyone who had lived there could attest to the preciousness of sleep.
Contemplating the future, a sense of apprehension enveloped me. The looming prospect of the important PMR examination in the coming year weighed heavily on me, accompanied by many challenges. The previous batch had achieved excellent academic results, setting high expectations for our batch.
Despite my reservations, I understood the responsibility placed on my shoulders. Not only did I carry the aspirations of Asrama, but I also faced the immense pressure of keeping up with my peers. My final year at Asrama underscored the seriousness of the task.
It was ingrained in Asrama's culture that students should strive for excellence in the PMR/SRP examinations, with the hopeful goal of gaining admission to superior schools like SBP or MRSM for Form 4. This belief had become my own, with its principles deeply embedded in my conscience.
Leaving Asrama and gaining admission to a superior school was my goal, and to achieve that, I was determined to excel academically. I wanted to sever ties with Asrama proudly, proclaiming that I had risen to the ranks of SBP or MRSM, disassociating myself from any connection to Asrama. The prospect of leaving Asrama and enrolling in a more prestigious school filled my dreams, a desire too strong to ignore.
Since my first year in Asrama, the idea of leaving had grown within me, nurtured when Encik Hussin first revealed that exceptional results in the PMR examinations could lead to attendance at Malaysia's top schools. The impressive academic journeys of our seniors confirmed this possibility, as they received acceptance offers from prestigious schools across the country. Thus, the desire to leave the lacklustre environment of Asrama in favour of more elevated surroundings took root.
The unattractive and mundane existence within Asrama held no appeal for me, and the decision to leave solidified when I read letters written by senior students who had left Asrama to attend superior schools. These letters, displayed on the notice board during my first year, resonated with me. They exuded the joy of studying in superior schools, with one senior even praising MRSM Taiping as the pinnacle of academic pursuit. These messages were sent by students immersed in their studies who took the time to share their experiences with their younger Asrama juniors. Their dedication left a lasting impression on me.
However, my main motivation to sever my ties with Asrama came from the spectre of Encik Hussin himself. The idea of enduring my Form 4 and Form 5 years under his guidance was unbearable, regardless of any offers from superior schools. I was not the only one who found his demeanour intolerable; many seniors before me had fled Asrama, seeking refuge from the troubles he caused.
However, with Encik Hussin's departure, I was unsure of my immediate decisions. It seemed wise to wait and observe the behaviour of the incoming warden. If they proved to be equally unpleasant or, worse, exceeded Encik Hussin in unpleasantness, then leaving Asrama quickly would be my only option.
This year, Ramadan arrived on a different schedule than usual. In the days leading up to my return to Asrama, I had already been fasting for nearly two weeks at home. Therefore, returning to the fasting routine at Asrama for a week before the Raya celebrations didn't weigh heavily on my conscience. This school holiday period signified contentment and peace.
As I began to pack my belongings in preparation for my return to Asrama, I promised myself to change my perspective. Instead of resigning myself to despair and frustration, I resolved to bring some joy into my life. Over the past two years, despondency and irritation had been constant companions, even in Encik Hussin's absence.
As the time for my return to Asrama approached, an inevitable anticipation grew within me. Although the new warden remained a mystery, my instincts told me that life within those walls would be less daunting than before.
I eagerly anticipated the transformations that the upcoming year would surely bring, hoping that these changes would be positive. The frustrations that had plagued me in the past no longer held sway, and I was determined to make the most of my time at Asrama. I wanted to create a bright and memorable chapter within those hallowed walls, a collection of cherished memories to carry with me into the superior realm of Form 4. The promise of the new year hung in the air, a guarantee of unfolding adventures to be savoured at a leisurely pace.
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