Name: Jonathan Tan (23) Date: 31st March 2008
Class: 4-1

Flight

As an imprudent youngster, people have always advised me against doing anything adventurous for fear of recklessness. It was a taboo to place me in charge of affairs, especially vital undertakings that involve human lives. In fact, so much so that it sort of became a running joke in the family. Of course, I understood that they were made in pure amusement and I harbored no animosity.

Rio de Janeiro was not exactly the perfect district to grow up in. In fact, it was more like a slum. As you may have guessed, I was not born with a sliver spoon in my mouth. I lived with my mother who only barely managed to put food on the table. She constantly struggled with three jobs to put food on the table. My father? I did not have one, or rather I did not know who he was. As far as I could remember, I had been living with my mother practically for all my life.

Despite the atrocious state of the slum, there was a place that I simply adored. It was an open pasture on the top of the hill, way above the sea level where it was serene and quiet. The pasture was where I probably spent most of my halcyon days. As I lay on the viridian grass, looking up upon the cerulean skies aimlessly, as though I was searching for a purpose in life.

Then, I saw it for the first time. It was love at first sight, the magnificent airplane. Upon seeing the behemothic piece, a product of human engineering soaring in and out of sight between clouds, it left a sensational feeling stirring in my heart. Perhaps due to my audacious tenacity for anything breathtaking, my adrenaline skyrocketed. And I had an insatiable desire to one day, be able to fly.

And now as I look back upon the past, nostalgia constantly reminded me about the times I spent here to emancipate from the worries of life; the harsh truth of reality. Perhaps, dreams do come true if you prayed hard enough. The bane of being a sentimental person has its flaws too. Moments before landing, I was still pondering to visit my childhood estate. It was the worst possible excuse for a town, yet I eventually decided to proceed to the shanty slum.

Familiar sights greeted my eyes immediately upon touchdown. The same old torn down buildings, the same old corrugated roads. As I walk down the oh so familiar steps, each inching towards the only place I still hold dear in my heart, I know that I have made it.

And there it was, in all its glory and serenity. The place where my dream had begun. It was evergreen as usual, just like when I left it. Scant fragrance of the perennial daffodils still littered the pasture. As I was embracing the fond memories, a plane jetted past the blue backdrop. It was just like that day.
Except that now, my dream has indeed taken flight.