Keeping Vigil

i was invigilating for the A-Level Listening Compre exam today at a... certain college which is well known for students whose standard of Chinese isn't fantastic.

first thing i told them was to turn their phones to silent and leave the phones in their bags and to leave their bags outside the classroom. i emphasized the utmost importance of having the handphones turned to silent, if not off completely. i said, "if you do not turn your phones to silent and your phone goes off with one of those horrendously loud ringtones at just the right moment and your classmates miss the crucial words and therefore does horribly , you know that they will curse you for the rest of your natural life. so please. save yourself that trouble and turn your phones to silent."

then, as i distributed the question paper, other than telling them that they are not supposed to turn the paper over until the broadcast said so, i also asked them to read the instructions, which were in Chinese, saying, "if, at this stage, you require me to translate the instructions for you to English, then i can only wish you good luck for this exam."

then... while waiting for the bloody exam broadcast to start, many of them fell asleep, serenaded by the music. so... just before the exam started, i had to wake them up. i said, "now's a good time to wake up, clear your mind and invoke any god or gods you worship for divine inspiration and assistance."

i was so horribly mean. i guess it's the lack of sleep. it makes me more caustic than usual. and that's saying a lot.

there was an interesting poem stuck at the back of the classroom though. it's called "Invictus"

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as Pit from pole to pole.
I thank whatever gods may be,
For my unconquerable Soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance,
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance,
My head is bloodied, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears,
Looms but the Horror of the shade.
And yet the menace of the years,
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishmentsthe Scroll.
I am the master of my Fate,
I am the captain of my Soul.

sigh.

i wish my soul was indeed unconquerable. but i know i do wince and cry aloud in trying times. despite that, my head, while bloodied, remains unbowed. the menace of the years often finds me cowering with fear, for often i am unsure, uncertain whether i can emerge victorious from whatever struggles rage within me. nonetheless... i do hope to be the master of my fate, the captain of my soul.

well... the above poem still isn't good enough to replace Kipling's "If", but it's nice and inspiring enough nonetheless...