In Honour.

I remember vaguely the day I stepped into the institution that was to become my college, this vagueness now stemming from a certain self-assurance I had, that in no more than three months I was to head for far greener pastures. Well, it seems I was wrong. What follows will be, I hope, adequate tribute to the place, events and people that have been part of the last two years of my life.

The very reason for my remaining in CJC, and very much a source of refuge and of learning in these two years - The CJC Choir. I make no pretensions in saying that as with my entry into the college, my entry to the choir was rather tenuous. After all, I did think it a far cry from the strict institutions and discipline of music that I had come to recognize. Yet it proved to be a journey of immense impact on my life, and above all, learning. The practices, the workshops, SYF, my term, Christmas, JC 1 intakes, and Musique a la Lune - all these may be watersheds of the development of the choir in these years, but for me the everyday will have left far deeper imprints on my person.
To my seniors, the people who welcomed me into this family: I had heard your performance to us juniors with an apprehensive ear, for it was after all the first time I had come into contact with a choir after a rather disastrous experience four years ago. Yet I signed up, despite a logical voice in my head telling me otherwise, and it has turned out to be an extremely rewarding experience. A motley crew of singers faced with, for the most, a rather daunting challenge. The SYF, still, was your moment of triumph.
To those friends who have worked together with me in these two years, so many that I cannot list. Thank you seems a rather inadequate thing to say now, but it's all I can offer. Our challenge was of a different nature, and I confidently say that we have put in our best. The sweat, tears, and blood of these two years' work may not readily manifest themselves, but to me at least, they will not be forgotten.
Lastly, but definitely not least in their position as the future of the choir, are my juniors. Some have come, some have left, and some now want to return. All, however, have left some impression on me. Your challenges lie ahead, and I trust that you will relish them and succeed, spectacularly. When you come to great success, thank yourselves, and your conductor. You have definitely grown in strength and maturity from when I left you, and that, hopefully, is the legacy that I leave.
Still, I have one last message for the choir. Thank you for everything, because the passion, drive and devotion of my leadership were derived from all of you. Forgive me for anything else, for being at times too stubborn, too weak, too indecisive, or simply waiting too long.

The next, but an equally felt part of my tribute today, will be to those who have had to bear my idiosyncrasies, bring me laughter, friendship and support all this time; to what I very proudly call the very first class of CJC, 2T01. My class. I remember a certain line left in our now-defunct class journal, and now it seems rather apt, "won't leave individual messages - would be far too corny..."
I remember being thrust, rather unceremoniously, into the class; and being proclaimed, rather awkwardly, the only guy in the class. Thank you for that distinction. Yet my experience, perhaps not exactly wonderful then, is definitely a bag of laughs now, in retrospect.
I remember the slow forging of acquaintances in the first three months, and I remember, particularly, the anxiety as we returned, once again, after the holidays. 1T01 seemed a rather awkward label for us, for we were more comfortable with being T5, at times cool, other times passionate, but always vibrant. Yet we excelled nonetheless, despite the many setbacks we all faced at one time or another, or the never-ending tirade that we would never measure up to the previous T1s. I do think that we have forged our own identity, to be the T1 that I know, fun, lively, intelligent, and for me at least, proud in belonging to this spectacular group of people.
We've had, unavoidably, disagreements, and animosity over the two years, and perhaps some events will not be forgotten too easily. Despite that, however, I do believe that the happy moments are, thankfully, abundant. We may not have won awards or gotten any recognition, but we nonetheless are known well through the level. Most classes will have left upon our many tutors their own mark and imprint, but I somehow feel that ours will be distinct and indelible, unique, and even shining. Perhaps, come next year, we will see our most spectacular success yet.
Thank you for all the scandalous relations you imposed upon me, all the people that were supposed to have been my partners for life (or less), and all the various names that came to be associated with me. I may forget them, but the laughs will be unforgettable.

And as well as my peers, my tutors and lecturers also deserve accolades. Thank you for guidance, laughter, and perhaps what may last the longest, education. Each of you has done what you have in your own personal, distinct way, and I am all the more better off for it.
History was, and I make no pretensions, rather a terror in the early parts months of these years. Still, I have come to appreciate the depth and intellect of the discipline, and I can safely say now that I do not regret, after all, the immense, effort that is required for the field. Maybe I'll remember little of the things I have learnt, but I do believe that the skills will be forever ingrained within my intellect.
I had waited long, since my secondary school days, to finally be able to study Literature. It was thus with a rather heightened sense of anticipation that I began my studies. I do acknowledge now that it was not exactly what I thought it might be, but nonetheless it has been an extremely enriching experience. The beauty, emotion, and passion that I have encountered in my course of study will undoubtedly never be forgotten.
Economics was a necessary part of the combination, and I must say that I entered into the subject knowing little and perhaps, expecting even less out of it. Yet it has proven to be a fascinating field, and two years is hardly enough time to even begin to understand fully this field. I do not think that I will continue studies there, but the lessons I have learnt, in the sprit of the discipline, will be ultimately practical and applicable.
I do not think now that the General Paper will be easily forgotten by many people, especially not those in our class. The skills that I have begun to appreciate, of clarity, conciseness and cogency in expression, the command of language that I have gained, and the powers of logical argument that I have found has proved valuable far beyond common classroom application.

These years may be but a part of the tapestry of my life, but it is, after all, these silver threads that will shine.