Recently I picked up a book on my shelf which I first read when I was in JC1. I still remember that I found this book in the wastepaper basket of the bandroom and my very last attempt at reading this book ended up in total confusion. I had no idea what the author was trying to say and consequently I do not have much recollection of the story details.

Strangely though, now many years down the road, as I start to go through the pages again, I find myself being drawn into the plot. I could feel for the characters (the adults, the children)though their lives were very much different from mine.

Perhaps this is what growing up is about. To suddenly realise something you have never realised before. A process by which an individual becomes conscious of the equal importance of his fellow men. To be able to feel for others, to know that things in life are not to be taken for granted.

(PS: I used to quarrel with my bro about the difference between a koala and a polar bear. And I always ended up telling him that he will understand when he grows up. I'm pretty sure he's grown up now and he understands the difference. haha....)