Four-Sided Heads

This week is the university's convocation. Cars of all shapes and sizes have brought people of all shapes and sizes to the campus grounds. Eager to share in the new graduates' moment of glory, I walk around the convo site. How much this particular moment in time means to each individual, we'll never fully comprehend.

I look at the people wearing those terribly oversized robes -- it's a wonder the tailor is still in business after all these years! I look at their faces, one by one.

Surprisingly, I see through their faces none of happiness -- for none of them were smiling.

They were so terribly nervous, they reeked of apprehension instead of joy!

As I walk along, I imagine how it'd be like two years from now when I myself will be a part of the celebrated graduates. How would it feel to finally realize that all time and effort spent here will be sealed with a scroll? The end of campus life. Every memory will remain that.

Where will me and my friends go from here? Some will work, some will get married. Some will get married, then only work. Some will do both simultaneously -- married to work, get it? :P -- and a rare few will end up doing neither.

The possibilities are endless. When you think of it, the university is only a small launchpad for us to give us that slight push up into the sky. What we do with that force depends solely on ourselves -- and our mass and gravitational acceleration. (What's wrong with me this morning?)

A popular graduation gift nowadays are the furry teddy bears, wearing the trademark square hats that look so cuddly that even got us guys (who at normal times, would never admit our soft side and would never, ever wear pink) cooing about how cute the bears were. Besides, they last longer than roses!

But then, however much I dream about it -- two years' time will be us, I keep telling my friends -- I know that when that moment comes I'll dread leaving all this familiar comfort behind.

Perhaps now I understand why none of the graduates were smiling today...