27

When we recognize a person, a series of 'terms' may vacillate through our minds even as we greet him or her. These 'terms' are what constitute the identity of that person. Everyone has an identity that is constantly evolving and adapting to ever-changing contexts. A boy, a friend, a son, a brother, a student, a teenager, a scout, a councillor etc... These varied terms collectively form who we are and how others perceived us to be. Simple terms they may be, but they could mean so much to the right person.

27. If you had told me that these two numerals would take up such a huge slice of my current identity a few years ago, I would never have believed it. They seem so simple, yet they could mean so much. With unpredictable subtlety, this term has stolen into our hearts, transmuting the ordinary into extraordinary, just as how stones turn into gold, and what used to be shades of monotonous grey is now instead a spectrum of vibrant colours. Even as we drift towards our individual paths and even as we break apart, ‘27’ will never mean the same as before. It means something special now.

To me, I don’t think ‘27’ can ever be just another number or term. It has become the collective fusion of the highs and the lows of council life, the seamless combination of unbridled celebrations and uncontained heartaches, as well as the beautiful symphony of voices made up of unique and unforgettable individuals in the 27ths. With these friends, I have literally been through a whole new world – I have changed, I have matured and I have found new directions in life.

I found out what it feels like to be part of a team that has become alienated by success as we challenged the impossible, yet I have also savoured the feeling of closeness that comes with uniting against obstacles that goes beyond literal points to reach the walls of stereotypes and pessimism. I learnt that shared grief is half grief, but joy shared isn’t double joy – it’s multiplied so much that your heart is almost bursting with it! I saw how friends could drift apart so quickly and treat friendships with such carelessness, yet I have also witnessed friends who never fail to make others experience a special or fuzzy feeling every time they meet, just by being who they are.

I am a 27th, and that is something that will never change (: Memories may fade, but feelings are immortal. Green never used to be one of my favourite colours but it has since become a special shade that I will cherish ever. Being a Rafflesian never used to feel so awesome, and now I feel simply privileged to be part of the family. Lorry rides will probably seem unworthy of a moment’s attention to anyone else, but I will always see it in great doses of nostalgia. And there are probably a million other things I can mention that will never feel the same way again.

I think we live life not to get rich or get hooked, but to make ordinary things extraordinary for the people around us, just as they have done so for us. We live life for these simple moments that we could look back at with sweet reminiscence. Most importantly, I think we should live life not to become a special someone, but to make someone special.