CHAPTER 28: Fulfilling Desires

At last, the much-anticipated moment arrived, marking the beginning of a new chapter in my life as a Form 3 student within the premises of Asrama. Approaching the imposing gates, a strong sense of eagerness engulfed me. In stark contrast to the previous year, when returning to Asrama left me with a feeling of emptiness, this time, I was filled with unbridled enthusiasm.

My mind was brimming with curiosity, ready to embark on a journey of discovery in this uncharted territory. Without wasting any time, I made my way to Dorm 1. Upon my arrival, it was clear that I had adopted a rather fashionable tardiness, as the dorm was already bustling with fellow students.

Initially, I couldn't help but feel a bit uneasy as I surveyed the scene, noticing the absence of fresh-faced Form 1 students. It soon became apparent that no new batch of students would be admitted this year. While this revelation initially surprised me, it quickly turned into a source of comfort, as I realized that Asrama's population would not become overcrowded.

Thinking about accommodating another batch seemed like a daunting task, as these two batches alone had already brought forth a whirlwind of complexities. The current number of residents seemed to strike a harmonious balance – not too many, yet not conspicuously few.

In Dorm 1, I found myself assigned to share a sleeping space with Iman. He took the upper bunk, while I settled into the lower one. Our dormitory was next to Dorm 2 and offered a beautiful view of Hutan Bandar.

Among my dormitory mates, Kaido played a familiar role, a fellow I had known for quite some time. Right from the beginning, Kaido's collection of jokes and quirks would always bring out hearty laughter from me. His unique ability to make us laugh, whether it was intentional or accidental, had the power to put a smile on my face just by being around him.

While the rest of the dorm's occupants were junior Form 2 students with whom I hadn't formed a particularly close bond, communication was not a problem. Initially, I was inclined to keep to myself, engaging in limited interaction. However, as days turned into weeks, I found myself gradually breaking free from my shell, revealing a more sociable side.

Although the memory of Encik Hussin, the former warden, still loomed large in our collective consciousness, the healing process had begun. In his place, Encik Zul, the newly appointed warden from the recently closed Kuantan Asrama, had taken on the role of leadership. My initial impressions of Encik Zul were inconclusive, and I had concerns about what kind of leadership he would provide. Only time would reveal the answer.

Dorm 1, I soon realized, held a special place in my heart. In my opinion, it reigned supreme among the dormitories, distinguished by unique characteristics that set it apart from the others. 

Firstly, its population was smaller, housing only a handful of residents, creating an atmosphere of coziness and camaraderie. Its relatively modest size added to its charm, making it visually appealing and comfortable. The ease of maintenance added to its appeal. I'll delve into more details about this unique Dorm 1 in the upcoming chapter.

As my journey in Form 3 began, the academic aspects of the school remained relatively unchanged. Despite feeling like a senior during the afternoon sessions when interacting with the upperclassmen, in Class 3KS, I continued to share space with familiar faces, alongside Class 3RK. 

The essence of Asrama persisted, making it unimaginable to sever our shared identity. However, my classmates exuded a palpable sense of maturity, despite occasional incidents of racial tensions. Seated in the central area with Bel, I had a front-row seat to the diverse classroom dynamics.

Two teachers in particular, left a lasting impression on my academic journey – Cikgu Kartina, who taught Mathematics, and Cikgu Bakar, our Science teacher. Initially, Cikgu Kartina appeared strict, with a didactic demeanour that lacked levity. However, as time went on, her friendly nature emerged, and she developed a warm rapport with us Asrama students.

Cikgu Bakar, on the other hand, had a completely different teaching style, exuding sternness and seriousness, creating an atmosphere of unwavering discipline in the classroom. Despite his strictness, his expertise in the field of Science was undeniable. His teaching method, though rigorous, was characterized by clarity and a deep command of the subject matter.

In the realm of Asrama, my class placement followed expectations, ensuring that I remained familiar with my peers. Disruptions were rare, and I even found amusement in the classroom environment.

My classroom was on the first floor, conveniently located next to Dorm 1, which brought me great delight. This proximity allowed for easy transitions between the classroom and my dormitory, giving me a sense of freedom. When boredom struck in the classroom, I could easily retreat to my bed, savouring moments of unique happiness. Upon my return to class, refreshed and invigorated, I cherished these episodic bursts of joy.

As the year progressed, the looming spectre of the upcoming PMR examinations drew nearer, signalling the beginning of tuition sessions with new teachers. Notably, Cikgu Mokhtar, our Science teacher, retained his role. Unfortunately, Cikgu Faridah, a teacher I held in high regard who had been our teacher since Form 1, was noticeably absent. This absence cast a shadow over my spirits, as I had expected her continued guidance to excel academically.

Despite this disappointment, one teacher emerged as a true paragon of teachers – Cikgu Mustafa, our History teacher. This year marked his debut as our teacher, following a previous tenure of instructing our junior counterparts.

Cikgu Mustafa's teaching style set him apart in many ways. He blended humour and seriousness seamlessly. Before each class, we were required to write our names on our desks, a ritual for easy identification. After a customary recitation, we were asked to recite the "Ayat Seribu Dinar" (The Verse of a Thousand Dinars). Mastery of this verse was mandatory, and he would occasionally call on one of us to recite it, leading to harmonious echoes from the rest of the class.

Cikgu Mustafa's lectures had a lively tone, enriched with enlightening anecdotes from his academic journeys abroad. These stories left an indelible mark on me.

In the classroom, his demeanour encompassed a wide range of emotions. His talent for humour often led to hearty laughter, turning the classroom into a place of joy. Sometimes, his humour ventured into controversial territory, a testament to his ability to navigate the nuanced world of comedy.

His conduct was often unpredictable. On one occasion, he introduced the provocative novel "SHIT" with a mischievous smile, leaving me pondering his intentions. He even recited select excerpts from the book, perplexing my sensibilities.

However, the most memorable aspect of Cikgu Mustafa's teaching was his playful banter with Maro, a standout student whose excellence in History had earned Cikgu Mustafa's admiration. Maro's remarkable achievements left Cikgu Mustafa in awe, and he would often gaze at him with amazement, marvelling at his brilliance. These moments of levity never failed to amuse me.

When Cikgu Mustafa saw a pile of books on Maro's desk, he affectionately referred to them as "kitab-kitab" (holy books), designating Maro as the expert to refer to. When faced with a difficult question, Cikgu Mustafa would instruct the class to consult Maro, calling him to review the "kitab-kitab." Witnessing Maro's chagrin at this jest, the rest of us, his classmates, would burst into laughter.

The tuition teachers, with the exception of Cikgu Mustafa, followed a more traditional approach. With the PMR exams on the horizon, a serious atmosphere prevailed during their sessions. Cikgu Mokhtar, our Science teacher, introduced a new teaching method. He tasked us with creating and answering ten questions from any source, which he would review at the beginning of each session.

Among all the subjects I studied, I found Science tuition particularly engaging. Cikgu Mokhtar's teaching method was magnetic, focusing mainly on PMR-style questions. Alongside these practical exercises, he explained fundamental concepts vital for our upcoming exams.

However, it was the Geography teacher who proved to be the most enigmatic presence. With his imposing demeanour and occasional absence due to rugby commitments, his subject matter was sadly neglected.

It puzzled me why Asrama had entrusted him with the role of teaching when someone like Cikgu Faridah, known for her dedication, would have been a wiser choice. Nevertheless, when he did teach, he assumed an unexpectedly relaxed demeanour, devoid of the usual academic rigor.

Such was the journey of my Form 3 life within the esteemed walls of Asrama. Everything unfolded according to my envisioned path, and happiness became my constant companion, both in Asrama and the classroom. The full weight of academic pressure had yet to descend upon us. Upon reflection, the conspicuous absence of Encik Hussin was a pivotal factor in my newfound sense of liberation.

Without his pervasive influence, I revelled in a sense of freedom that I had never experienced before. Externally, not much had changed in my surroundings, but the transformation within me was profound.

My nightly routine always ended with the dormitory lights being turned off, signalling the end of each day. This ritual, so familiar to me, made late-night studying a foreign concept. Besides, my dormitory companions shared my preference for retiring early.

Filled with contentment, I would lie down on the comfortable mattress, taking a moment to appreciate the atmosphere of my beloved dormitory. Wrapped in solitude, I would reflect on the day's events, allowing my thoughts to settle before succumbing to the embrace of sleep.

As the veil of slumber descended upon me, a current of anticipation always flowed through my mind, foretelling the arrival of new hopes and dreams. Realizing that this was my final year in Asrama, I made a promise to myself to live each day to the fullest, cherishing every fleeting moment and etching them into the lasting memories of my life. With these sentiments as my constant companions, I would drift off into a deep and restorative sleep.