- It’s so weird to have huge breaks between exams – my first A Level was yesterday, History, and it’s my extra subject too, the one I self-study. There’s always an added pressure to perform well in something you chose yourself. I managed to come out with an unprecedented A in history last year: and I want another A this year. But my next exam is on the 31st and it feels so strange to not have to worry about having to study immediately, especially for history.
- Incidentally, the next exam I have is Sociology. I’m very eager to give that particular exam.
- Singing shows make me very emotional. Angie Miller’s homecoming on American Idol was especially emotional because so much of it took place in Boston and- well, I need not go on.
- I have the best friends in the world who apparently like giving me surprise birthday dinners.
- Aforementioned friends also have a fantastic appreciation for my nerdiness
*snuggles her new Assassin’s Creed III artbook*
- It’s such a damn injustice that Pakistanis overseas cannot vote. What’s the point of turning 18 if I can’t cast a vote – something that’s so incredibly important to me? It feels like I’m being a hypocrite by wanting to study Political Science; how can I, when I couldn’t even vote for elections in my own country? I know that’s unfair to myself, but it does hurt, so much. I said as much to my parents, and my mom responded with a wry smile, saying, “We’re 44+ and we can’t vote for our country.” And that’s what hit me in the gut. The Pakistani diaspora numbers 7 million – that’s a lot of votes that could have been casted. Maybe someday.
I beseech the Pakistanis that can vote to do so. Today is the day we take our own future in our hands. Be thoughtful. Be clear. Let not allegiances and tradition deter you from making your own decision. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it as many times as I need to: this is about your autonomy. Don’t compromise it, please.
This is dedicated to my high school graduating class. Also, note to Mehvash, keep tissues with you.
- We will never get back borderline insulting banter and The Weakest Link outrages with Ms Glenda in Sociology
- We will never get back the times we cooed and gushed over Ms Anna and her cuteness at something she said or admitted she couldn’t relate to in Crime & Deviance
- We will never get back all our literature energizer-related injuries at the hands of sponge balls or dodging elbows in our race to the bell
- We will never get back coconut juice and South Indian delicacies as we discussed the finer points of God of Small Things
- We will never get back tense games of Jenga, or violent UNO rounds, or the rampant cheating that inevitably goes on during our Sixth Form games
- We will never get back all the coffee we drank in our corner of the Sixth Form, or the breakfasts volunteered by someone or the other, or the gummy bears that were so violently ripped apart
- We will never get back all the photobooth pictures taken. Well. Actually, we will. There’s a lot more where those came from
- We will never get back our original reactions to Darren’s infamous “Bloody ****” story
- We will never get back the various parties and get-togethers and birthday celebrations and the Christmas party
- We will never get back the overwhelming and mixed feeling of seeing everyone in their graduation gowns for the first time
- We will never get back how it felt to finally walk out of the back room to Carry On for the last time
- We will never get back all the days that stupid One Direction song was stuck in our heads and the amount of times we had to perfect our dance to it and-
- We will never get back how worth it all it was when we saw the final product.
But what we do still have are memories. Pictures. Videos. Inside jokes that will last us years. Facebooks and phone numbers and twitter archives. We’ll forget a lot, but we’ll have each other to fill in the gaps. We are Year 13 of 2013, the coolest “class of” title in history. And we’re small and tight knit but even if we do forget each other a few years down the line, I don’t think any of us is going to forget the good memories and hilarity of our last year of high school. I love you all to death and there’s so much more I would love to talk about but I might end up crying.
Here’s to us, Year 13.