By How Han Ming

 

They will swim till the world ends.

 

We started off as tiny tadpoles in an endless matrix of nothingness. It was a lonely

and arduous journey, devoid of guidance, light, and direction. An inarticulate

obsession compelled us further towards our unknown destination. Many of us

waivered, worn out, and disintegrated into fragments that suspend in the abyss of

broken souls. Undeterred, we propelled ourselves towards a new future, a new destiny.

 

I want to be the king of the world!

 

Tadpole A struggled to swim through the turbulent current, its tail slowly losing the

vitality to complete the journey of reproduction.

 

I want to shape a better world for you, my future friends!

 

Tadpole B made a promise to its dying peers before reaching the ultimate

destination, where the formation of life would begin.

*

They live. They grow. They observe. They learn. They teach.

 

Forgotten gods embodied within the body of mortals, they take various forms and are

known by many titles – teens, brats, youngsters, kiddos.

 

Loudspeakers without the volume button – that’s us teenagers. We have

big dreams that know no boundaries. Dreams recorded in our diaries and essays.

Dreams that may seem idealistic in our assembly speeches and school debates.

 

We dream of the day when we will go on stage to claim the “Best Student”

award as teachers shed tears of joy. We dream of the day when we will leave the

comfort of our home and make it big in the corporate world. We dream of the

day when we can utter the three magic words to our soul mate.

 

Simultaneously the fear of failure and humiliation awakens them from their

slumber, the insecurities, so vivid; it evokes a fire, a burning, unfathomable desire.

 

We fear that we will never pass as perfect sons or daughters. We fear of making

choices that will break our family’s heart. We fear of failing to live up to

expectations and lose out in the race of materialism. We fear of being alienated as

some of us express our inner selves through a supercilious platform of no’s,

wrongs, what is unforgivable.

 

Punk Culture – Teenage Pregnancy – Youth Crime

 

A mild desire to be imaginative, expressive, and unconventional soon

changes into something ugly and malicious. But wait: A teenager’s fault

is the fault of the society, the world.

 

They might be admitting defeat, but they never do. 

 

A cloud of shadow can wash over us, but it cannot kill our hopes and curiosities.

The wind tells us to spread our wings and look at the sky, and even though when we hear

thunder, with all its rumbling – full of anger, we choose to rise, from the notion

that we will reprise.

 

This is their protest song. Nay. Nay. 

 

Friedrich Nietzsche once said: “Whoever wants to be a creator of good and evil

must first be an annihilator and break values.” To cross boundaries, we take the

road less travelled. We do not want to be passive listeners; we want to be active

speakers. We accept only ‘yes’ for an answer. We object. We challenge. We

debate. We contradict. We ask questions.

 

Why not? What else? What if? 

 

“They say I am dirty and sinful. But why not create more lives to complete the

imperfect world?” whispered teenager A, as she lay on the surgeon’s table,

waiting for the masked strangers to shred the life of the tiny foetus in her

womb.

 

 “The world is dark and cruel, devoid of love, sincerity, and joy. But what else can

I do? What if they discriminate and rebuff me again?” cried teenager B as he

hugged his knees and brooded at the secluded corner.

 

They have given up immortality in exchange for the ability to change the world.

 

We shall be the bringer of glad tidings like no one before us. We shall discover

truth by dealing with lies. We shall conquer catastrophe – by opposing

the lies of millennia, by devising changes, by dreaming of revolutions, by craving

for reforms. We shall sing of glorious wars where lies of the old society shall

crumble; there will be a war of words, a war of cultural transformations, a war of

technological advancements, a war of utopian developments, a war that shapes the

colours of happiness.

 

They will fight till the world ends.

 

Set us free. Let us soar to the skies. Let us sing to the heavens. Let us dance our

rhythm. Let us embrace the world.  

 

Words that seemed trivial in the cynical society where teenage voices diminished

in time.

 

“My Voice will purge evil and promote kindness,” said teenager A.

 

“My Voice will turn dreams into realities,” said teenager B.

 

Give us back our voice, and we will sing of a better world, a better future.

*

A teenager resembles the bud of a young shoot, waiting to blossom and exhibit its

multifarious hues. Water the seedlings with Love, and we will be lovers of the

future. Teach us Perseverance, give us Hope, provide us Guidance, and lo and

behold, we could turn out to be beneficent guardians of treasure. Alexander the

Great founded his first colony by the age of 16. Louis Braille gave the gift of

knowledge to the blind by creating the Braille writing system by the age of 15.

They negated obstacles of infancy, childhood, and adolescence to become

champions of the century! They championed the power of dreams!

 

This is their destiny.

 

We are no Harry Potter, but we can do wonders by spreading the power of love.

We are no Frodo Baggins, but we believe in the strength of our courage to make all

the differences. Our duty is to the posterity, and here will we lay our building

blocks, that our dreams remain sanctified.

 

They are Dreamers of the world till the end of time.

 

“My dream is to be able to heal and to find a cure for cancer. I want to spare

patients and their loved ones from suffering. I want to heal hearts,” says teenager A

as she walks into the compound of the medicine school with medical journals in her

hands.

 

“My dream is to be the Prime Minister. Every citizen should enjoy relative

harmony brought upon by perfect ideals of equality, prosperity and unity. I want to

serve the people, and shape a better future for our nation,” whispers teenager B as

the spotlight falls on his specter before the stage podium.

 

A teenager’s capability of performing deeds that are both good and great results from a

vision for the world, a desire to succeed, an instinct to lead. In a teenager’s dream,

I see potential, a potential to achieve, a potential to shake the very foundation of

the world. In a teenager’s dream, I see the world, the world being moved by him,

the world at his feet.

 

Sit and rejoice once again, as the teenagers today take flight to a utopian future; an

abode for the Gods as envisaged by Homer, where *no wind ever shakes the

untroubled peace of Olympus; no rain ever falls there, or snow; but the

cloudless firmament stretches around it on all sides and the white glory of

sunshine is diffused upon its walls.*

 

[End]

 

How Han Ming welcomes comments and suggestions at train.hhm@gmail.com. He is a young student with a big dream, so don’t be too harsh on him, ok? 

Image taken from here.