Who am I, or what am I? I suppose that is the question that most people would have asked by now, assuming that you all are around 20 years of age. With the amount of time that I have on my hands, I guess I have pondered on this question quite a number of times. But then, till now, I still have not found the answer.
Many years ago (yes, many), while I was still in secondary school (seriously, many years ago), I figured that I was gonna be a mugger, end up as an Electrical Engineer, and earn money and so on and so forth. If you think I am a mugger now, which i violently deny, you should have seen how I was like before. I hardly went out, only for tuition, school, and the occasional cycling around the neighborhood. I would go to school in the morning, reach home around 140PM, have lunch, bathe, then start studying till dinner. If I have tuition in the afternoon, then off to tuition I go, and studying resumes when I reach back. Around 630PM, it's dinner time, where I rest till around 730PM, where studying continues. Sleep around 1230AM. So, that was my life, for 2 years from 1996 to 1997. Sad huh? Didn't really have time to hang out, go out, never heard of Internet, or even talk to girls. Hahaa, back then, I was really the mugger extraordinaire.
Then came JC. Boy, that sure was a time of waking-up. Back in secondary school, almost all I did was right. As in, I could argue with the teacher about some physics problem, and come out right. I couldn't go wrong. BUT, in JC, boy did reality bite. And it bit real hard. I soon realized that it was futile for me to argue about some physics, maths or chemistry problem with the tutor. There was just no way that I could know so many things. The syllabus was really killing me. Before, when I checked the answers to some problems that I did, and the answer came out wrong, I could say I was 60% right and the answer was 40% wrong. Now, I'm 100% wrong. Sigh... that was a sad time. Another thing that I was really confused was why didn't I take biology? I mean, I did biology in secondary school, my parents wanted me to be a doctor, I was in St John Ambulance... if I did well in biology in A-Levels, I would have got a good chance of getting into medicine in NUS. Even the interviewer for my ASEAN scholarship asked me why didn't I take biology to get into medicine, considering I had an interest in first aid. Oh yeah, I was in First Aid Club in Hwa Chong as well. Sigh, oh well, I guess I closed one door when I decided to take double Maths.
And now, here I am in university. I knew that I was gonna get screwed here, but I never expected to be in the running for a second lower. I always decided to get myself into second upper. But then, sighz... it was just not meant to be. I figure my chances of getting to second upper is almost nil. However, I'm just gonna give it a shot, there is nothing left to lose. At least I can tell myself that I tried. I think the problem is just that I am not up to standard to challenge the really good ones. Meaning, I'm not smart enough. From what I have said, you can see for yourself that I have basically SLOGGED my way up to now, where slogging is just doesn't take you anywhere. Here, you need to be smart, and when I say smart, I mean an IQ of maybe 180+? I don't know my IQ, but it shd be in the range of 160. Not good enough I guess. A friend of mine (shall not name the person) once told me about how he/she despised the "muggers" who got their A's by doing the ten year series and remembering facts, without actually using a brain to think and all that. I fall into the category of muggers basically. I know that I am not smart enough, that's why I do my ten year series. That's why I memorize facts. That's why I don't make the cut for first class, or even second upper class. What I lack in the muscle-that-matters, I make up with studying. But then, the hard truth remains that, in university, that doesn't count for anything. It is still the fittest that survives. So, I guess my friend is right. We mere mortals don't deserve our A's, our recognition, our "pride", because we just don't reach the level that is required to be considered as "cream of the crop".
So, now, what am I? I thought that entering Raffles Hall would give me a chance to be able to find that elusive answer. So far, I have to say, I have been unsuccessful. Let's start from the very beginning. First year, I was in BOP, Sets, Welfare, and Bizcom (which was forgetable, so let's scrape that). BOP was quite okay, I realized I had an interest in photography, although my technical knowledge was kind of limited. Then in sets, I guess I wasn't really physically built properly to be able to fulfill the job description. Haha, Yeah, that kind of put me off too. Then in welfare, I realized that we were just a bunch of coolies who, like coolies, are underappreciated and under-given-points.
Fastforward to the second year, with Float, BOP, hockey and choir. Let's start with Float. To be honest, Float was CRAP. Okay, at the beginning it was fine. I mean, we were all excited about coming up with the "winning design". But then, along the way, a lot of things happened. First of all, I had to go back to Malaysia for two weeks to babysit my EIGHTEEN year old sister while my parents were in China. When I came back to Singapore, I felt like I was treated as an idiot, who didn't know anything or what I was doing. I was pushed to cleaning up the conference room, making the starch and all other menial work. Morale plummeted for a moment. Then, the engineers returned, and we all started the real physical work. I still remember the first day. Day One: I was the first person down, as usual. Maffrine, Ira, Boon Seong, EeLin were still slumbering while I was down in the work area. Then the engineers came strolling in. After setting up the tables, they took out the plans and were eager to start work. Still no sign of the rest of the designers. Djamil came up to me "Yo, Daniel. How wide do you want the main frame to be, and you see this part here, it has to hang over the edge of the truck. How far down can we go? We need to consider the weight of the structure because we don't want the wood to be scraping the ground." Well, how the HELL am I supposed to know any shit when all I did was make starch and clean the conference room. So basically, I didn't know much, which led to the engineers dumping all respect and trust they had in me right into the stinky drain around our workplace. Of course, the designers came in around 1030 to 1100 in the morning, with all the answers. I wasn't needed around. I knew it. I was the one who had to go around Singapore, collecting materials. Avneesh: "Hey, Daniel. Can you follow Kelvin over to Sungai Kadut to collect some wood? Daniel, don't mind following Kelvin over to Arab Street to collect some cloth. Daniel, go with Kelvin and collect the magazines". At this point, I kind of figured that I was irrelevant in the Float "Team". I began thinking to myself: what have I contributed to the team? Almost nothing. NIL. ZERO. So, what I lacked due to my inept knowledge in architecture, I decided to compensate by working extra hard. Yeah, I came down at 9AM everyday, opened the store, got out the tools, made sure there were enough nails to go around. Made sure the bits of the saw did not go missing. Cleaned up the stinky drain. But then, the damage had been done. The designers didn't consider me as nothing more than trash. And the same could be said about the Engineers. So, yeah, that was my "memorable" holiday experience of 2001. Next was BOP, lucky for me, I thought I found something that could keep me occupied, and interested in, besides my daily mundane life of studying for exams. Choir was okay as well, I managed to catch up with my "singing". However, towards the end of the academic year, I decided to drop it, because I have come to realized that I was just not good enough. People do not like me. Why should I go up on stage to sing for them? Screw them. Then came hockey. I was always fascinated by this game, mainly because of my ACS(I) roommate Chik Liang, who kind of made me realize how difficult it actually was to play hockey, even tougher than soccer if I may add. So I decided to give it a shot. And I may add that, I was kind of alright for a first timer. I did my hits right, my stamina was o.k., I had some ball sense. I even gave up my two toe-nails for the cause. Then came IHG. From basic logic, I knew I wasn't in the first team. Well, doesn't matter, almost nobody makes it into the first team as a first timer. So, maybe I could be a substitute, just to get on to the pitch for a few minutes. That is better than nothing. Well, it had to be, cos nothing really sucked. I didn't even make it to the bench for God's sakes. And that sucked. It had a sickening feeling that all that I had done was in vain. Better luck next year, I told myself. So, to year three we go!
Year Three started with me applying for BOP MM position. However, I knew my chances were next to nothing. I mean, how can you challenge someone who had been approached to be the MM by the JCRC? I had to be kidding myself. And it was true, my application wasn't even given a second glance. In fact, it was scoffed at, and I bet it was even ridiculed. "Daniel? You gotta be kidding. Next position?" Someone must have said that in the meeting room. Anyway, BOP major position was a consolation. I mean, I knew what to do. I had to, I was a BOP intermediate member for one year, a BOP major for one year: what idiot with that background doesn't know how to run BOP? Not that I think Kuan Meng did a bad job, he did a good job in fact. It's just that, for someone neutral, given my background, wouldn't you think that I could do a good job too? Ok, point-wise, in my first year, I was allocated top points, and for my second year, also top points. I'm sure that happened for a reason. Next up, I decided to take up softball. Yeah, I knew it had been almost 10 years since I held a softball bat, but what-the-heck. I wasn't thinking about the points, so, softball was good. I had a really good time in softball. Sigh... gonna miss those days. And, back to hockey, second year running. So, now, I'm Mr Third Year, that first years are supposed to look up to. I did improve quite a lot since my second year. Ball control, hits, passes. Again, lost two toe-nails, which was starting to be almost an annual ritual. Then, came IHG. I figured that midfield was already packed. Defence was kind of shaky. So I could make a brief appearance. But the one position I thought i could make was the striker position. Until I found out that "A" was gonna take that spot, although he came for trainings for... not sure, but I can definitely count with one hand. And true enough, he was the lone striker. I thought, well, I could sub him later. And the substitution came, but it wasn't me who came on, it was a first year who knew balls about playing properly. What the HELL was he doing out there? I was pissed. Never mind, there is still a second game. Second game came, still no appearance. Third game came and went, and by then I knew that i wasn't playing. I know I'm not superbly smart, but I'm not stupid either. So, why bother wearing my shoes? Why bother warming up? Why bother wearing my shin guards? I am not playing. And no, you can't take my shoes because your shoes died. And no, you are not taking my hockey, you can go buy yourself a new one, you f*cker. So, two years, and not a minute on the pitch. People ask me "So, how was the game?". My answer would be "Ask someone who played." I know I sound like a whiner, but then, it is very frustrating when you realize that all the trainings were wasted, hopes were in dashed. I mean, it reduces you to nothingness. You are nothing to the team. Nothing.
So, that's the three years in Raffles Hall, that I told myself I would find the answer to the question: Who am I? Well, let's see... I can't do Float for nuts, I sure as hell am not a hockey player. I cannot say I'm choir material. Softball? Not really also. Ahhhh.... photography. Well, I do have something which defines me. That was what I thought.
"Hey this picture sucks! This picture is too dark! I look fat in this photo! You are a lousy photographer! Why do you take such lousy photos! Can you take better photos? Call yourself a BOP Major!"
Who am I? Somebody tell me.
