If you expect that this article is nothing but my exceptionally annoying rant, then guess what?

You’re dead on!

It began when I came to university. Alone, a stranger and desperately looking for a company were words to describe how I felt. When I tried to make friends with my fellow batches, I couldn’t help but noticing that some of them were actually fortunate enough to know that they already had their former classmates in high school joining them in this utterly foreign atmosphere. And not only they went with their friends, they got to meet their high school’s seniors here as well. A privilege not everyone could enjoy, isn’t it?

I felt a little envious at the beginning. Who wasn’t anyway? Who couldn’t stand the sight of your soon-to-be friends going around effortlessly in a building called Sim Lim Square knowing that they wouldn’t make a bad bargain since they had their seniors’ advice? Not to mention the welcoming barbeque they attended, the free counselling sessions on how to plan the timetable, the free inherited textbooks, etc.

What I’ve seen as an unfair start could mean an advantage for some, but fortunately not all. The diverse background of the students here has prompted each of them to maintain objectivity as the ground rules for the games. An unconnected person like me could immediately make friends and join students’ activities without having to worry that one of the prerequisites of doing so is being a member of a particular school’s alumni club. He can get along well and earn respect if he can meet the standard social expectation such as being friendly or ability to perform well upon duty assignment.

What’s more fascinating is that I can see that some alumni societies do just exist to maintain contact with their alma maters. There will always be things like going for an outing, or cooking together. Those are natural and I think I’m beginning to apreciate that. When it comes to a bigger situation, most of their members are mature enough to know that they shouldn’t brought the old memories to the table. Such understanding is, in my opinion, what makes me and other loners feel comfortable talking to them.

Sadly, not all societies are mature enough. I don’t know how others feel, but I still see one of them to be excruciatingly pain in my noble bottom. First, they had this odd adoration with their fellow members that seems to create boundaries between them and the rest of us. Though there are few outstanding exceptions, most of them, in my observation, would only want to work if their alma maters were working with them. It was weird because the factual data shows that the current number of these people are actually less than 20, or 10–I don’t know, who’s counting anyway? Imagine dividing this small numbers and making them to work as a group!

Another observation that puts my eyebrows to a curvy line is that they still have this nostalgic euphoria over their past success. Some may call it narcissism, but I felt it was nothing but a falsely-reasoned euphoria. The way they talk, behave, or interact might give you an implicit suggestion that they were still the privileged few who earn the best education and obtain the best grade among all. Again, factual data states otherwise. First, each of us is exposed to the same type of education-whether they call it the best or the worst. Second, if you look closely, almost none of these people actually perform well. Though such claim is subjective, but I still don’t see the reasons for them to feel more superior than the rest of us.

The last reasons for my rant about them is that there are some of them who are actually annoying in person. Wait, “annoying” is such a strong word. Let me replace that by “extremely infuriating to the least”. I don’t know what it is, or how it comes, but everytime I have a human interaction with them, I consider myself lucky if the interaction turned out to be blatantly dull, because most of the times, it was either a staged conversation, or an ego-struggle. What’s funnier is that it wasn’t just me feeling a bit too sensitive. Some, if not many, of others share the similar story with me too!

An overly attentive reader might say, well, why don’t just I keep things to myself? If I don’t like them, why should I spare time to even write about their stories?

I guess that’s one of my personal virtues. It is and will always be my nature to mention things I don’t like. Part of me did it for the sake of hoping that they will know about it and subsequently change. The other part of me did it for a more practical reason: to wipe things clear from my head. And I kind of think that these parts are relatively bigger than the others, and they are there for good.