Yesterday I spoke of carousels; of roundabouts and changes. Today, let me tell you about one of my personal carousels.

Exactly a year ago, I woke up feeling all jittery, excited and with a million butterflies in my stomach. It was the first day of my internship stint- and I was the girl with the big dreams. What sort of dreams, you ask. I think this excerpt from my personal statement last year says it all.

"Everyone has this moment in their childhood that they will always remember. For some, it might have taken place on top of their first rollercoaster ride. For others, it might have been at their first Macdonalds birthday party. For me, that moment took place, of all places: In my Kindergarten classroom.

I can still picture the scene clearly. There we were, all seated prim and proper, when the teacher posed us a question: What do you want to be when you grow up? The answers were pretty interesting. We had a handful of policemen, doctors and astronuats. Then it was my turn, so I stood out proudly and said: I want to be a writer (the term "journalist" wasn't in my vocabulary back then). Someone sniggered. A boy named Patrick, I think. Whoever it was, I shot him a look that can be summarised into four words: Wait for my byline."

So the dream to become a journalist wasn't just a quick, summer fling with the profession. It was a dream I clinged on to as a kid, and one that stayed with me all the way till the start of this year. With that dream in mind, I stepped into the sph building- exactly a year ago- and breathed in the fresh smell of print. At the same time, I stepped onto one of my own personal carousels and went on a ride of my life. Just like I knew I would.

In case you're wondering, this post isn't going to be reflection of my six-month stint in sph. If I had wanted it to be merely that, I would have referred you to this post HERE, which I wrote a few days after my internship ended. Instead I want to show you the spot where I stepped onto the carousel, and the spot I landed at after the ride was over. It wasn't the same spot. The view from the end point was completely different from the view at the start. What changed? Maybe it was the giddy, glittering lights along the ride that changed my perspective on everything.

But first, a sneak peek into the glittering lights:

This was my carousel story.

I remember the day I got my namecard, I burst into tears.
I remember my personal spot, my table. Right next to all the big names. You can see s/umiko's cubicle on the right of this picture. If you look closely in the background, you can even see her working at the big table. I remember how I used to get a neck ache from trying to avoid the eyes of the editors around me.

I remember all the silly, silly things we used to do.

I remember the long tuesday lunches.

And I remember my favourite fellow sufferers interns.

Apart from that, I remember more things. I remember the thrill of the chase of a story. I remember the satisfaction of seeing your byline in the papers. I remember the giddy high of getting a good quote or tracking someone elusive down. Yet I remember the late nights and the feeling of desperation as you wipe your sweat and try to look as pleasant as possible to get the numbers for your streetpoll. I remember the friends I made. Permanent staff, editors and interns alike. I remember our kfc lunches. I remember our gossip coffee breaks. I remember our nicknames for the bosses. I remember our april fools' day jokes. I remember staying in the office till past midnight on saturdays. I remember working on public holidays. I remember the birthday cake you guys got me. I remember the farewell you guys threw for me when I ended my internship. I remember endless laughter and fun. But most of all, I remember making a fantastic bunch of friends on the ride of my life.

For that, thank you. (Yes, I know you kaypoh journalists are reading this especially if it is a slow week and your name didn't appear too many times on the sked)

Yet despite all the glittering lights, I decided to step off this carousel and embark on another. I turned down the sph scholarship, and with it, a long-cherished dream of mine. Why, is a question I keep asking myself, even till now. But I think I know the answer. Dreams can change after all. And while a part of me still clings on to that childhood dream of mine, the other part of me refuses to pigeonhole myself into a dream so early. Why stay on this carousel when there are other rides to choose from? Not that this carousel isn't good, but wouldn't it be better to have a taste of all the other rides before deciding which is the ride you want to take on and on again, forever? After all, all that glitters is not gold.

As I step off this carousel ride, the spot is different. It is not the same spot I stood a year ago with all my big dreams and ideals. Instead, the spot now faces the ferris wheel, the rollercoaster and the viking ship, each with its own shiny lights beckoning out to me. I may end up on one of those rides forever- or not. Hold your horses little carousel ride, for all you know, I may be back.

Last week, someone googled "sph scholarship" and got onto this page of my blog. I guess it's that time of the year again. A new batch of dreamers wanting to gain admission to the ride. New people will step onto their own personal carousels. Wherever it may take you, just know that you're in for a ride of your lives.

Labels: musings, photos, work