And so today marked the end of yet another lengthy chapter of my life, opening virgin boundaries to a new horizon at the same time.
To sum it up, it was a real eight long years in service under the Boys' Brigade. From sweat to tears, from polished belt buckles to lustrous leather, from trooping the exalted colour to fervid horn tunes from the bugle and finally, from the parade grounds to the sanctuary.
Unraveling the canvas to display portraits of memories painted with a worn off quill. Enrolled in service as a recruit working all the way up the ladder to two stripes. It wasn't easy, neither was it a cruise but nevertheless it was a ride.
I grew up in the BB, looking back it seemed as though it was just a week ago that I handed in that petty piece of paper to register as a member and today it was goodbye.
There were times, I gazed upon flamboyant figures in the company with sashes fastened around their trunks, all of which are blurry images in my mind now but one thing was certain back then, I was awed, awed as in how kids get hyped up over power rangers.
Under my tenure, I saw many changes, people change, I change, everyone changes.
For the good or the bad, it depends.
Regardless, the thought itself requires a big gulp of air to recuperate the mind and the soul.
Turning back the pendulum:-
A long forgotten community service, my first (2005)
The bunch of whackos
I really wonder why the dog gets all the attention
Again
A bus trip to somewhere
Posing on top a fire engine
Annual dinner? We were drunk
I tell you I make really amazing twist rolls, my mates can testify that.
The part where I became a drill instructor, definitely not an easy task.
There were times of commitment, but there were times of lazing and slacking too. Can't blame this, was in charge of kitchen and chores. EXTREMELY TAXING
A rough view of the parade ground
We played with fire
and conquer fears-heights in this case
We have the traditional game called 'stack'
Stomping grounds in the middle of nowhere somewhere near Gopeng
Putting on the sash, a rare occasion
We owe most of everything to these men.
Keep marching on...
Farewell 1st Ipoh Coy, yet another batch of senior boys are leaving the mother ship, heading towards their own voyages but fear not for the spirit of the Boys' Brigade will never die in us.
And so we have this hope as an anchor for the soul,
Sure and Stedfast.
Hebrews 6:19
Cheerio☻☺
To sum it up, it was a real eight long years in service under the Boys' Brigade. From sweat to tears, from polished belt buckles to lustrous leather, from trooping the exalted colour to fervid horn tunes from the bugle and finally, from the parade grounds to the sanctuary.
Unraveling the canvas to display portraits of memories painted with a worn off quill. Enrolled in service as a recruit working all the way up the ladder to two stripes. It wasn't easy, neither was it a cruise but nevertheless it was a ride.
I grew up in the BB, looking back it seemed as though it was just a week ago that I handed in that petty piece of paper to register as a member and today it was goodbye.
There were times, I gazed upon flamboyant figures in the company with sashes fastened around their trunks, all of which are blurry images in my mind now but one thing was certain back then, I was awed, awed as in how kids get hyped up over power rangers.
Under my tenure, I saw many changes, people change, I change, everyone changes.
For the good or the bad, it depends.
Regardless, the thought itself requires a big gulp of air to recuperate the mind and the soul.
Turning back the pendulum:-
A long forgotten community service, my first (2005)
The bunch of whackos
I really wonder why the dog gets all the attention
Again
A bus trip to somewhere
Posing on top a fire engine
Annual dinner? We were drunk
I tell you I make really amazing twist rolls, my mates can testify that.
The part where I became a drill instructor, definitely not an easy task.
There were times of commitment, but there were times of lazing and slacking too. Can't blame this, was in charge of kitchen and chores. EXTREMELY TAXING
A rough view of the parade ground
We played with fire
and conquer fears-heights in this case
We have the traditional game called 'stack'
Stomping grounds in the middle of nowhere somewhere near Gopeng
Putting on the sash, a rare occasion
We owe most of everything to these men.
Keep marching on...Farewell 1st Ipoh Coy, yet another batch of senior boys are leaving the mother ship, heading towards their own voyages but fear not for the spirit of the Boys' Brigade will never die in us.
And so we have this hope as an anchor for the soul,
Sure and Stedfast.
Hebrews 6:19
Cheerio☻☺
No comments:
Post a Comment
Shoot me?