The Hunger Games

Finally, I get to post this. Even though three days have passed since I watched the movie (and then read the book), I hope enough retains for me to at least briefly touch on this hugely popular film and book, the first in a trilogy.

I shall comment on the movie, which was really good and worth the $9 I was scammed of by the price-discriminating Junction 8 cinema. Anyway.

The movie is about 24 boys and girls between the ages of 12 and 18 to participate in the inaugural Hunger Games. One boy and one girl from each District, numbered 1 to 12. Thirteen districts rebelled against their authoritarian leaders in the Capitol, and the last was annihilated; the rest were subdued, and their people specialise in different areas due to the geography. District 12 for example mines coal.

The setting reminds me of William Golding's Lord Of The Flies. I read that when I was in lower Secondary and I don't think I'll ever forget how harrowing it was to read about the complete chaos that comes about when people are divested of rules, and try to set up their own in a new place (in that case, an island; in The Hunger Games, an America that has been destroyed by civilian warfare over scarce resources). People get into cliques. Fight each other. Lie. Anything to ensure their own survival, at the expense of others. Life is but a zero-sum game to them. But to the heroine, Katniss, it is not. And while others killed to get weapons and food, she escaped and sought only to survive.

The Hunger Games also reminds me of Liar Game. In the first game, people are given a million dollars - a loan by a company. They are expected to return all that at the end of a given period of time, and hence end up neither gaining or losing. But they can steal other's money, and thus get that amount of money while the loser ends up in debt to the company. Human greed does the rest while the company benefits. But that changes when a girl, Nao, and another man is thrown into the picture. They seek to overthrow the system, to defy, much like what The Hunger Games does.

Another book that isn't really similiar is George Orwell's 1984. A dystopian world where people are constantly being watched, register to ths and that. My memory's hazy on this book, so I can't comment too much, but there are some similarities between the Capitol, with its deployments of Peacekeepers to towns to keep an eye on the people; where people are mutilated, their tongues cut off for daring to rebel and run away. Rule through fear. Big Brother is watching you. The Capitol is watching you, always.

The Hunger Games are just that, a grosteque game, not about hunger, but about betrayal, about humans turning against one another for survival, for fame, for glory. What lies at the top after killing off twenty three others is fame, money, and riches showered upon the winning district for that year till the next Hunger Games. It's nothing more than a sick ploy by the Capitol to keep any rebellious thoughts in check.

The brilliance of the film (the book is not as compelling, but nonetheless a very good read) comes in precisely that - reflecting upon all these issues, getting people to think about what is happening in the movie. About its relevance to our modern-day society, the rich-poor divide within a country, the divide between developed and less developed countries. No amount of politically correct terms - MEDCs versus LEDCs, DCs versus LDCs - will ever hide the truth that the poorer countries suffer much more than the richer ones.

For satire, to poke fun at the ridiculousness of the Capitol, people are made to put on a lot of face powder; exotic pets; crazy hairdos and attire. In contrast, the people living in the districts are made to survive on little food, with hunting not allowed (technically, but the rules are lax in Katniss's town so she gets to hunt for some income to support her mother and sister and herself) in order to ensure most goes to the Capitol; that starving people would not dare to revolt. The opulence and glamour of the Capitol, the abundance of technology and luxuries are contrasted with those serving those who live there - rebels with their tongues cut off, Avoxes; and the plight of those living in the dstricts. And if you think this isn't happening in the real world, think again. Googlesearch. Poor Africans, with malnourished bodies and huge bellies that signify extreme malnutrition, putting the food on the developed countries' table. The ornate ballrooms of our local Resorts World Sentosa and Marina Bay Sands. Urban in the newspaper featuring strangely dressed models with weird done-up hairdos by stylists. They call this fashion. I think nothing of it. Impractical. Resource-wasting.

This is the world we live in.

It makes me sick. To think that The Hunger Games are actually being played out, unknowningly to virtually all of us in the developed world. We are benefiting at the expense of others. I'd be surprised if terrorists didn't exist. But sadly, they don't lobby for just causes, but for their own good. Just another example of the greed of human beings.

And I find it strange why this has happened. Both in real life and on the movie screen. shouldn't freed people be much more productive, given more technology, a higher standard of living? Wouldn't this benefit the Capitol more than it does from twelve poor districts? I don't have a reason for this, but perhaps they fear that such a thing happening is tantamount to an uprising. There would be vengeance and ultimately the Capitol would lose all that it has. Another reason is the power that they enjoy, knowing that they control the fates of others.

And the Hunger Games are practically entertainment for those living in the Capitol. No way of knowing how people feel when they're being hunted. No way of knowing what it's like out in the wilderness, shivering in the cold, being chased by beasts and not knowing what to eat. They laugh and place bets on who would win. The value of human life has gotten a price tag.

And there are volunteer Tributes, who want to be picked for the Games. Not knowing that they would be playing right into the hands of the Capitol, ejoying the status quo, that their lives are good now because they produce luxuries and are paid handsomely for it; that they would want to willingly pay the price of having blood on their hands in exchange for a life of glitz and glamour. But it all seems so empty to me. How much parties can one go to before one is sick and tired of it? To walk around, a moral bankrupt, not knowing what has been lost. I pity them.

The premise of the movie is that thankfully, there is hope yet, in the form of Katniss. In the book, she is slighty less bloodthirsty than in the film. But overall, she replaced her sister just because; she tried to not kill anyone, unlike some who simply ran straight to get weapons and started massacring others who were daft enough to stay and fight. And a little bit of romance. Well, in Pandora's Box, even after all the evil, sins and whatnot that have afflicted mankind since we came into being, at the very bottom ofthe box lies a wisp of hope. Small, but strong, can be nurtured, can grow and start a movement, and lead to the betterment of society and the environment.

I cross my fingers and hope.

In Response

I refer to a letter in The Straits Times by Ms Vivienne Yeo.

She talked about how the label of "branded schools" is "loaded with snobbery and hardly neutral" and suggested that "the Education Ministry could fashion an equivalent term to 'Ivy League'." I would like to say that while these terms may help, they will not solve the underlying problem- that people will discriminate no matter what and even if such loaed terms and labels are abolished a seemingly innocuous term hat steps up to take its place would be associated in much the same manner, and ultimate the effect is to make such a mindset more prevalent and the association of the new label with certain schools to be an unspoken rule. As what has been suggested in the debate on school branding, what needs to change is ultimately the mindset of Singaporeans, and the provision of more and better facilities to schools that aren't as well known now aids in this change in mindset significantly.

Also, she stated that "intelletual arrogance is a deplorable attitude, and how too many Singaporeans place undue stress on academic performance, job status, appearance and presentation". This may be true, but there is logic behind this, and as usual,the pragmatism that us Singaporeans are known for. To be honest, I detest the fact that academic performance and credentials are paramount to getting a job, an internship. But this is the way of the world, since companies would much rather hire someone who knows his stuff that one who is a complete greenhorn in the area, or at least has been proven to so far not display any sign of leadership or stellar grades. It is much more cost effective to simply get a more experienced, capable person - appearance and presentation certainly do matter, to the job interviewers, to portray a sense of professionalism, to bring across a point more effectively. Perhaps she meant that all of these are important, but there are other things to be taken into account, such as character.

But unfortunately, the real world does not work this way. It has its own rules and reglations and those who do not comply are often booted out. The rule has been set in place for so long that people take it as social convention and blindly, or otherwise, follow. To change all of these requires people who are determined and have the courage to be game-changers. More would then start following, and hopefully, there would be significant results. And yet, for one to survive in this sort of world, one has to play be the rules and be a nice obedient person, at least in the eyes of those who make the rules. Quiet dissent will simmer, but ultimately people will not go to extremes and challenge the status quo. Such is the world we live in today.

I do agree that intellectual arrogance is a deplorable attitude as put by Ms Yeo. When one states with some satisfaction that he or she is a Master's in some field or whatever, always remember that there are things that others know that they don't. Real-life skills on how to cook? To clean? Older people have more experience. One of a lower income and academic qualification may have a unique take that nobody else has. And so in this way, we are all made different and so we should respect others for their uniqueness; academic qualifications often mean nothing if the privileged bearer doesn't know how to apply the knowledge to real life, to benefit others in some way, to flaunt it, or is completely clueless as to why he or she is working as such, purely for money, and deriving absolutely no satisfaction whatsoever from the job.

This links to whatever was going through my head. I became quite stressed out yesterday and was fretting on lots of things. What is the point of education, then? What's going to happen to me? In degree-hungry Singapore, where such academic qualifications are of paramount importance to securing a job? What's going to happen to my university choices? What course should I take? Will the university even accept me based on my dismal scores? My sad, sad B for Chinese, even after retaking it? The point in memorising songs at home and not through singing and loving the song in preparation for auditions to go to an overseas competition? The tons and tons of homework that I haven't finished? The guilt that came from reading a storybook while all these pieces of work waited for me and kept growing in their ranks?
I broke down somewhere. I felt like a man in his mid-life crisis, stuck, with nowhere to go, nobody to turn to. Abosolutely alone. Like nobody would care even if I disappeared off the face of the earth, right now.
(some more explanation of this is in another post, but that one's in a much more personal diary that nobody but me will ever look at, at least not in full, unless someone breaks the last wall of defence that I have erected around my heart - that everyone has erected around their hearts. )

The Church Experience

I went for my first ever visit to church in a very long time on Sunday, at the bequest of my cousin. City Harvest Church, pretty much the largest church in Singapore, had its services held at "the smaller location" (in comparison to Suntec", Jurong West. I was a little bewildered at first by the massive structure: Four storeys high, with a rooftop that conained a baptism pool and a shallow wading pool, and a childrens' playground; four basement levels, with a massive auditorium in which the service was held. Small? I don't think so.

The place was very modern with modern amemities and atchitecture, bearing almost no resemblance to my idea of a more traditional church with steeped roofs, arched hallways, etc. No, this church was flamboyant, with a water feature at the Level One reception, lifts, a putting ground, a massive two-storey carpark (that's only aboveground). Even the toilets were modern and bling with reflective tiles and high-quality oilet paper found in domestic households and glass washbasins. This was a modern church.

I first witnessed a water baptism where the pastor just leaned the person being baptised backwards into the water, said something like "In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, I baptise you..." (Hope this is correct... suggestions for amendments are most welcome). The process was over in a few seconds and then soaking wet people in white shirts posed and took pictures. I watched the whole process with some measure of incredulity but some ritual involving salt, fake/ unlit candles and an apple calmed me down. At least they stick to (what I believed was) the traditional practices, I thought.

Another part that freaked me out was when they started praying by speaking in a tongue - I can't say what tongue that is, because I don't know the language - but generally, I prefer people sticking to English, pure and simple. The explanation given was that speaking in tongues would being them closer to Jesus and hence closer to God and spirituality. To a non-church member, some doubts ae obviously raised.

After an hour or so of lazing around, it was time for the main service to start at 12 noon. I went down to Basement 4 where upon entering, I saw a huge auditorium stretching out and down before me. Hundreds of plush seats. A stage where a rock band was strumming away and where at the other side of the stage, people were feverishly dancing up and down as the red lights strobed onto them. I hurried after my cousin and her friends - which form a "cell group" - and got seated.

My misgivings were somewhat settled when singers came up and people clapped and sang along to the songs. But to me, it felt a little like a cult, where people held out their arms and sang, closed their eyes, spoke in tongues at times, and the whole procession was lead along by singers. Is this the modern Christian's idea of a church, a service? But at the very least, these songs were all praising Jesus, praising God. From what I gathered, from my rudimentary knowledge, Christianity worships the Holy Trinity - God, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit are one. Catholics see Jesus as God's son, and the Holy Spirit is a seperate entity. Then there are Presbyterians, Orthodox, and all manner of different sects.

I shall digress for a little here to talk about the conflict between those of different faiths. Remember the civil war between Protestants and Catholics in Northern Ireland? There was a comment about how absurd it was for a people who believe in the same god to fight. Indeed, why can't people just accept that they believe in the same thing? Sure, there may be minor differences, but in the end both worship the same supreme being; both just need to compromise a little, tolerate each other and recognise that they may be a little different, but yet are essentially the same. Only then will peace be achieved.
And as for Protestants and Catholics, so it is between North and South Korea: a people divided into two by idealogies, fighting a ridiculous war because they're being stubborn; Sunnis and Shi'ites, who squabble (and do much worse) over the issue of who is their one true prophet, despite both teaching the ways of Allah; humans waging war against themselves, despite being in the same race.
I once read the bible, but stopped when God encouraged His people to go to war against their enemies - I believe in peace. Just War theory may say that wars might be justified, but if people took steps to resolve things before they got to such a point, then the loss of human life is prevented, unnecessary.

The pastor (founder of City Harvest Church, Kong Hee) who came up next was charismatic and brought up a parable in the bible about a father and his two sons. I shall not explain the meaning behind that, but he brought in many real-life Singapore examples. Which I didn't really like, because to me, the church serves as a shelter against real life and values should be given a greater emphasis. (Just checked out the City Harvest websit and realised just how accomplished Kong Hee really is, but anyway this blogpost isn't on that, so moving on...)

So anyway. They started singing a song which I knew from primary school days because my primary school is Catholic and I attended Mass and sang hymns. So I sang along, and started to tear. Because after all these years, I had finally discovered, once more, where my passion for singing came from; and the joy in believing. Simply believing, obeying a higher authority. Memories of my primary school days surfaced, and I struggled to stop myself from openly crying while singing the song. When my knuckles brushed my eyes, they came away, wet. I have discovered the joy of Christianity, of religion, but yet at the same time, City Harvest Church seems to jar with my ideals. So I'm sorry, my dear cousin, but I'll probably not become a church member. Not at CHC, anyway, though I might come back to explore the Suntec facilities. (Someone in the cell group told me that he preferred the Jurong West auditorium, to which I responded with mirth: More intimate? This huge space, with no cross, no statue, no whatsoever? Hardly.)

To compare the traditional, old churches with new ones like CHC seems to be comparing apples to oranges: no common point of similarity, apart from the fact that both are fruits. However, I interpret CHC as simply a new generation's answer to a church that needs to be reinvented to suit the modern context. They may hold services that seem like rock concerts and be radically different from the convention of a church, but still, CHC is a church, and a very popular one at that. You may think that only the younger Christians frequent this place - and it is true that the majority of the member demographic is young adults and teens and even tweenies, but 30% of the churchgoing population of CHC is actually comprised of people 40 years old and above. CHC is the answer that young people have come up with as they became stifled by the rigidity of the old system. Hence, even though pastors may be slightly flamboyant, wearing jeans and formal shirts to deliver sermons instead of a long white flowing robe, and members jump up and down (but not in a partying manner) at the chorus of rock songs that praise the Lord, the culture is largely still intact, and has simply adapted to the needs of modernity.

As for the church, it is an institution, the house of God, and people contribute donations to keep churches up and running and pastors and other staff get their salaries and so on. Hence, while it irks me that CHC has such enormous facilities, showing their enormous cash kitty, it is a necessary structure that is required for the functioning of the religion. But what is wrong is when donations are misused.

In conclusion, religion is so widespread as people seeking asylum from their hectic, stressful life get the shelter that they need, a quick reprieve from work, an affirmation of the good that they are doing and a moral compass that guides them along. This is even more so for religions involving mass participation, like Christianity. The power of the many that the religion pulls together helps to create a driving force that more often than not goes to help the needy. That is not to say that those without a religion are without morals, however. And I am happy with having no religion for the time being - my spiritual well-being is fed by singing religious songs even though I am not a Catholic or Christian.
The different shrines enacted to worship whichever god is part of the faith evoke different types of emotions in people - cathedrals give a sense of awe, timelessness, peace in the deafening silence that comes when one is alone in the cavernous hall, helping one to relax. While religions will always continue to mobilise people, places of worship will continue to adapt to changing times.
Perhaps, the God that people have been worshipping for millienia, have been reaching out to, is actually the indomitable human spirit that bonds people together, that sends goosebumps up the spine when people sing together, when people invent new technologies for the betterment of humankind, when people help the less fortunate. In this sense, God has, perhaps, been among us all along. Just keep doing what you believe is right, help for the sake of helping, be morally upright, and the omnipresent being will smile upon you and bring happiness. Miracles can be achieved, but only if we help ourselves understand this first.

Chorale Camp 2012

Umm. Due to CTs next week I shall try my best to KISS.

This camp felt very rushed to me, like how I felt that the O'levels and prelims before that and CTs now were just way too sudden and there wasn't enough preparation, and I feared the worst. But luckily even though I only got to know certain things on the day itself/ a day before, things ran pretty smoothly and it concluded pretty well.

I was a slacker who was only in War Games comm(ittee), whereas others had to be in several: Station Games, Fright Night, morning PT, et cetera. And I wasn't and am not in the exco and so had far more slacktime. But anyway.

I got to know a few new J1s, even though I still don't know about 10+ girls (being in bass, the guys were physically closer and there was less of a guy-girl gap) and hence didn't fulfil my objective of at least saying "Hi" and recognising which girl was whom. And I had to get high for the sake of stirring up convos within the group because I was the group leader and my fellow GL wasn't around most of the time due to being stuck in two comms. (The energy died out by Day 2, though).

Something that was a blotch marring the perfect scenery of the camp was the fact that I had at least two not-so-participative guys in my group, which lead to great frustration at times. Hopefully they'll open up a little more. One of them said that he doesn't talk much due to a throat problem, but still joined Chorale because he liked the secondary school version (Raffles Voices) - In that case, how can someone who likes Chorale so much not speak up and interact with others? For a choir is made up of individual people and interaction, synchrony is key; how can these be achieved if one simply sits at a corner and retreats into his own shell while others play games and sing together? But I was quite delighted that a former Red Cross boy had decided to join us because he liked to sing. That, and the fact that he interacted more with the girls. But I was slightly miffed at his action (or rather, lack thereof) during the second day, as said below:

Now, the J1s bring in their own atmosphere and all. Each batch is slightly different; my batch is more musical, reserved (though I lack the former and am too much of the latter), but the new J1s are more rowdy, excitable, less mature (in a way), but absolutely charismatic, in the sense that they bonded together very well and did stuff together. On the second day after station games, we were waiting for results (then the J2s prepared for a performance while they did Finale games - explained below) when dear Dexter C. and S. started playing the piano. All the pop songs came out: Viva La Vida, Adele's songs, etc. Then they danced to Viva La Vida: Dexter C. and W.Y lead the dance, while S. played the piano. From a few girls sitting in the front row swaying to the rythm, to girls forming a line and trying (and failing) to alternately stand and squat, to Viva La Vida where virtually everyone went down and acted out the music - it was a snowballing effect and most J1s were compelled to join in the fun and at least stand on the "dance floor" and jam it out. From this, I could also tell who the future leaders of the choir - Sectional leaders, non-music exco- were liable to be: Dexter C., S. , W.Y., and a girl, K. . I bet I'll be proved right after elections in the coming few months.

And of course, there were those who refused to go and mingle with their fellow J1s, including the aboveforementioned Red Cross dude in my group. He crossed his arms and refused to budge when I nudged him, saying that he was fine where he was, there was inertia to not move, that he could feel the atmosphere where he was. I gave up eventually. Well, those who don't really partcipate are those who don't feel a strong connection to Chorale - If you don't give, you won't receive, and the more you give, the more comes back. So that explains my slight moodiness.

The J1s however were really bonded as I said, from the jamming in LT4, and when they came together as a batch after chorale was over for a batch dinner. They even decided to treat the J2s, something my batch didn't do, to pizza - though this left many of us feeling extremely awkward. This is why I love their batch. So many are participative, and this makes for a Chorale with an extremely strong spirit, shining brightly. It's a really good start.

However, that also got me thinking. Already, it's March. Chorale camp's over. Once elections have concluded, the J1s would be taking over the mantle from our batch. And Chorale would be theirs alone once the J2s officially left.
One and a half years... Life seems to have passed by so quickly. To form bonds as a group, only to tear them apart when we have just fully bonded... Isn't life a little too cruel sometimes?
I know for sure that when the time comes for handover, I will cry or at the very least, tear. It'll be waving goodbye to another small slice of my past life and moving on to new things - hopefully, bigger, better, allowing me to soar ever higher than the doldrums I seem to be mired in right now.
And of course, I'll always come back for a visit to see how they have fared.

Dramafeste 2012

Going to keep this short because I don't feel like I have much energy left already... Three posts, a few hours, a few hours left for homework and revision.. Argh. The houses performed in this order: BW, HH, MT, BB, MR. The theme was "Space". I didn't like like the explicit mention of this word by BB and MR, which ade it seem as though they had to do that in order to comply with the theme.

BW: Not an astouding performance, but I felt that it was pretty okay. Until I saw the other houses perform, that is. It was an act about androids wanting to be human - A lying wife, her pilot husband, an army of pseudo-humans. "Human package: Download complete." An ominous ending to the play, but the plot, on retrospect, seemed shallow.

HH: "Please Mind The Platform Gap" - what happens when the MRT breaks down with an unemployed female biased against foreign workers, a "foreign talent" (FT) who knows how to repair the train but whose advice gets rejected, a six-year-old kid who is dragged along to act as the woman's daughter to prove that she has a family to feed and sees the truth that the FT is just a kindly person with mouths to feed back in India; the train manager and her cronies, who soothe the public without actually doing anything useful (also the general public's view of Singapore's MRT operators); and a graduate rushing off to an interview? A not- very-deep inquiry into the state of the Singapore public system. 人生如戏，戏如人生。So as the play reflects real life, so does real life reflect the play... We seem to be caught up in this issue of foreigners stealing our jobs, our pay; different opinions on them, what the public perceives the transport operators SMRT and SBS to be.

MT: "Everybody Wants To Be Perfect" - A tale of a man who is pulled right and left, who aspires to be an actor but is driven to perfection by himself. Pressure and doubt pile on him by his fellow female lead, who snubs him for being only second-best and tells him to be content with that forever; his mother, who wants him to become a doctor (achieving A for everything: A lawyer; A doctor); his father, who s fine with him being an actor as long as he is perfect (since the male lead got a B, he replies that you can "B doctor, B lawyer, B actor" to his wife); the director, who says that he's merely okay; his childhood friend, who advises him to quit and remember how he tripped and fell as a prince in a primary school drama. He eventually succumbs to pressure, and becomes mad. A chilling, cautionary tale of how everyone- after all- wants to be nothing short of perfect. The male lead's acting skills helped too to me thinking very highly of this performance.

BB: "The Singaporean Dream" - Where the father is a civil servant whih absolutely no sense of romanticism, the mother puts up with her in-laws, the daughter is forced to become a civil servant too because of the iron rice bowl, but detests her parents for being plaid and content with their boring lives; the grandparents, who blame the wife for their son not speaking to them (when it's actually his own fault). They all put up with each other and it's apparently an nice happy family who gets along well until the truth is revealed with many thinly masked barbs at each other; the mother pushes the granddad out of his wheelchair at one point in time, which surely violates tradiotional Chinese Confucian ideals. Extremely bizarre ending where the daughter storms off, the grandpaprents and mother retreat to their own room, and the curtain closes on the dad.

MR: "Going Up" - A play using modern lingo as usual, and examines what might happen when young people, usually reliant on their phones to keep themselves company, are trapped in a lift. There is a guy who follows internet memes; a bimbotic girl who posts every random thing she does on Facebook, has many friends, but none of them with the possible exception of her "boyfriend" (also in the lift) ever follow what she says, in a sad scenario that tells us what has happened to modern-day connections, and a girl obsessed with Harry Potter, who incites some thought she says (to the same effect) that the boundaries between what is real and what's not - the online and real world - have been blurred. And people can choose to fool themselves into living only in the online world, but there is something about watching people reject the real world and being hermits in their own enclaves online that makes you wonder what this world is coming to. Yes, FaceboAll Is Well andok and Twitter are useful for communication, but not to the extent of virtually living in a world of SMSes, Facebook posts, Twitter feeds and Tumblr. We should accept that these are only merely tools and our place is in the real world where communication with real humans, with real touch and speech, etc, instead of a flood of information on Facebook feeds; people being reduced to piles of data and information; useless updates on what they've had for breakfast for that their cat just took a dump somewhere. In effect, MR's play is about the loss of communcation that makes substitution phones for actual communication in a lift extremely hard and gets us to think about these issues.

My verdict from first to last: MT; MR; BB; HH; BW
The judges' verdict: MT; HH; BW; MR; BB

(Short) Movie Review: Three Idiots

So, about the movie.
The film is about three friends at the Imperial College of Engineering (ICE) in India - Raju, Rancho and Farhan. Rancho is the exceptional one who dares to challenge the boundaries and gets good grades - during the freshmen initiation ceremony, he uses a metal spoon on a wire to conduct electricity form the mains to shock a senior who threatened to urinate on his door (as Rancho didn't want to participate in the initiation, which involved pulling one's pants down and showning deference by stamping a sign on the freshmen's buttocks by the seniors), with painful effects for the senior, though I don't think it's scientifcally possible, but I wouldn't want to try. When the headmaster "Virus" gives a speak on being competitive, and says that 32 years ago his headmaster gave him an astronaut's pen and told him to give it to an exceptional student (implying that he hasn't found that student yet), Rancho questioned why the astronauts couldn't have simply used a pencil, leaving Virus dumbfounded (he later said that graphite splinters would prove very dangerous by floating around, and that Rancho wasn't always right... and gave Rancho the pen, albeit very grudgingly).

Rancho believes in learning the correct way, not simply to cram hard facts into one's brain and memorise definitions and spewing them ou, with many examples along the way. That is what makes the movie so inspiraional - I teared more than a few times. Add comedy, dance, music and the movie becomes something that you would not want to miss.
So anyway, back to Rancho. His favourite phrase when he's in trouble is "All Izz Well" - Saying that to give one the courage to face up to problems. I suppose i need this.
He also believes in learning what you love to, and makng it a career. Farhan is an excellent wildlife photographer and is only in ICE because of his father. Hence he doesn't do well in class. Later there is a touching moment when his father finally realises that he should let his son lead his own life when Farhan begs him to with all his sincerity.
Raju comes from a very poor family and has many fears on his mind - the fear to excel even though he likes engineering, because he is expected to become an engineer to provide his sister's dowry, to care for his paralysed father, his mother. And when Virus cruelly asks him to choose either him being expelled - "rusticated form college", as the movie said - or his friend Rancho, he chose to jump, resulting in him being paralysed just as his father recovered. Thankfully, he recovers, but then again, this illustrates the dilemma in choosing between self-preservation or sacrificing onseself for a friend, for family.
There was also a character who commited suicide, unable to withstand the pressures as Virus put him down completely and did not spare him a few more days to finish his helicopter project - a mini spy helicopter with four rotors, equipped with a webcam. Just as Rancho finishes the helicopter for him as a surprise, too late - he had hung himself, scrawling "I Quit" on the wall. An eternal goodbye to the pressure cooker environment that has ruined many before him. An unhealthy competitive atmosphere that reflects real life, a truism that shows the other side of the education system in many countries - India, South Korea, the US, Singapore, the UK.
After the graduation ceremony, after four years of school, Rancho graduates as the top student and vanishes without a trace (go read up/watch the movie yourself, not going to spoil too much), and the two "idiots" left behind, Farhan and Raju, search for him in vain till 10 years later, when they meet Rancho's self-professed arch-rival "Silencer" (due to his silent, incredibly potent farts) who has gotten by on rote memorisation and has bet wth Rancho to see who was more successful after ten years. After lots of dragging along (in a flashback sequence with Farhan narrating), they discover that Rancho has set up a school in a small village with dusty mountains all around and brillant blue waters to die for. A place that I would realy love to go to someday. The village has many, many inventions - a bicycle that drives a razor to shear sheep's wool via a dynamo, for instance. The village children study in a plce brimming over with Rancho's creations, and it turns out that Rancho has become a scientist, sought by many and world-renowned with over 200 patents under his belt (and the man whom Silencer wants to strike a deal with).
Isn't it very inspiring to see someone with this pure, simple love for engineering turn it into a lifelong profession and benefit the poor with it? I wish I could be like him too. But where do I start? I don't even know what profession I would liketo be in. The doors are open, but yet at the same time, they feel like they have already closed shut on me.

To make up for the mediocre thought process out into this blogpost I shall post two songs from the movie -  Zoobi Doobi and All Is Well. Extremely hilarious and yet thought provoking at the same time, if you read hard enough into them. Watching the movie helps. All Is Well shows the extremely positive attitude of the three friends to bounce back when something assults them (in this case, no shower water).

Rant.

Was going to post on Friday or Saturday about Dramafeste, but I procrastinated (as usual). Lots to do. Been on a little bit of an emotional rollercoaster ride this weekend... The feeling wasn't eaxctly pretty. And it started off with my absolutely dismal H1 Chinese results. Which left me feeling extremely empty, like something's missing. And what would have changed, on Friday, in the short term, as well as in the long term - How much happier I would have been on Friday, the lack of straight A's already. I didn't use to be so hung up about results. But the expectation was an A, and to get a B once again - especially after one year of Monday afternoons being wasted, in a sense (but it was fun while it lasted). And my oral/aural got a distinction this time round, unlike in sec 3 when I got only a merit. Which means that my written paper sucked all the more. Maybe it's time to admit that I'm just not good at Chinese. Or that I didn't put in enough effort. Which implicaes so much more. My year of forsaking econs will come back to bite me. It's not going to be pleasant. And I'm so much more worred about PW now, which is going to come out in two weeks time. I really think I'll be broken if I get anthing less than an A for this, too. But the only person whom I can blame is myself, for I alone know how much effort I put into it. I relied on a miracle in PSLE, relied on another miracle in secondary 4 for O'levels. And I've been getting too complacent, thinking that miracles will happen to me all the time, that I can do my usual thing, continue slacking around, and get that A, somehow. Apparently not.
I'll keep my grades in my file, and hope that that will motivate me to work harder. I need to start doing homework desperately. The pressure is mounting, because I've been slacking far too much. The expectation that I can get good grades, MUST get good grades, must go to a prestigious school in the UK or US - Oxbridge, UCL, Harvard, MIT, all the Ivy League colleagues. So many things to overwhelm me with.
Fear. Fear of the unknown. Fear that I wouldn't get straight As, at least for my six other subjects. Fear because of the high bar that the seniors have set us, have set me. Fear, pulling at my legs, sucking me down.
Fear.
And this links to the next post about a movie, "3 Idiots". It was produced in 2009, an Indian film, a blockbuster, a runaway success, about the education system, about values, about learning. I wish I could be like the male lead.