The Ticket

Enclosed in my book is a bookmark of sorts. A rectangular bright orange piece of paper bearing the emblem of the Ministry Of Education and sporting a dog ear at one of its corners, one would be tempted to conclude it to be a worthless scrap - Only it wasn't.

I was at Singapore Conference Hall. I had come to witness the Singapore Youth Festival Central Judging which my secondary band, Hai Sing Catholic School was taking part in. An event that only takes places once every two years, the band had secured two Gold Medals. Today was about to be the one which scored the Hattrick, the one that determined that luck was not the only factor which brought us through. I felt the pressure building.

The only other school adorned with bright yellow blazers, the band braved the journey to Singapore Conference Hall with hymns, lame jokes and singing the two pieces they were performing. When we arrived, there was another band in solemn black seated neatly on the floor.

" Please keep to one side," a fiesty be-spectacled woman in black barked. She had on a tag that read "Official" in bold black.

" Animosity... " I whispered under my breath.

In truth, the entire event was an organisational nightmare. Spanning five days with a total of 30 bands performing per day, the organisers have to re arrange the chairs and stands on stage after every performance , catch well-wishers without tickets gate-crashing, plan holding areas for bands ,designate car parks for school buses - one can only imagine what the organsiers have been through.

I myself did not have a ticket. I had thought I would be content watching the band on the Plasma TV screen they mounted outside the hall. I was wrong.

"Hey, Daniel.." Lynette, said in a low voice full of conspiracy.

She passed me what I thought to be an orange coupon. I read it, hardly believing my eyes.

SYF 2005 CENTRAL JUDING OF CONCERT BANDS( SECONDARY)
14 April 2005, PM SESSION
Singapore Conference Hall
Rows N-Y (Side blocks)

I nearly laughed at the odds. I had the ticket to see the band.

"Thanks," I said somewhat lamely, knowing that it was not enough.

The band had by this time were proceeding to the tuning room. I flashed them the thumbs-up sign and wished them all the best.

******

"You may not pass," the third sergeant at the entrance of the hall snapped. To drive the point home he placed his sweaty palms infront of a unsuspecting bystander.

"You may not pass."

The by stander flinched back a feet.

I almost expected sweaty-palms to take out his staff, glue on his grey beard and drive his staff into the tiles, causing the floor to divide into two halfs all the while screaming another ear-piercing command ordering us to not pass.

Frustrated, one of our more senior band members, Dwayne, threw his ticket and left in a huff. The orange rectangle floated around like a leaf in the autumn breeze before settling down on a cold grey tile. From a corner of my eye, someone chased after him.

Mdm. Zaibon , the teacher in charge of the band proceeded to give the guard at the entrance a good dressing-down.

"We have our tickets." she said waving it in front of sweaty-palms intimidatingly.

"There are not enough seats." I spotted at least 200 seats from the TV screen. And those were only of the first few rows.

In the end, sweaty-palms gave in after an epic 10 minutes of arguing and the entire group of us, ex and senior Hai Sians alike trooped in the hall at band 116. Hai Sing was band 117.

******

Mrs. Chua appeared in a maroon cheong sam top and black pants. Calm and composed she lead the band in a tuning note before stepping up to the podium. Wrinkling her nose a little , She looked questioningly to the judges for approval to begin. They nodded solemnly and she reciprocated with a half smile.

Facing the band, she lifted both her hands- a sign for the band to bring up and their instruments and get ready.

Beside me , Jiaying, an alumni member of the band sniffed. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying.

I could almost hear the collective breaths of the band members as the began their first song, Singapore Rapsody.

" Don't just play notes," our conductor had said only hours earlier, " other bands can also play that."

"What I want is very simple," she said, " I want you all to tell a story."

And what a story they had to tell.

I went to the band's exchange a week ago at Anglican High- one of the many they had to go.

Anglican High was just ending their their choice piece. The Cymbals gradually filled the entire hall, a brass dis-chord, a protracted Major and a staccaco ending reminded me what fighting in a war must feel like. As the Anglican high band filed neatly down the stage, their teacher in charge walked inbetween the sea of red and yellow.

She was a slightly plumb affair and wore a crisp black blouse with a pair of black three quarter pants , red and yellow phenoix motiffs flaring at the edges.

" I think we have come very far." she said cocking her head, causing her dangling ear-rings to break into a new dance.

" I understand how you all feel," she said letting the words sink in.

"After all I was in the SYF once." Beside me the teachers in charge of Hai Sian stopped marking their scripts.

" Don't look at my figure now.."I could feel many eyes zooming to see what they were just told not to do.

It is just like me asking you not to think of a white bear. Ever. I bet 90% of you are thinking of it right now.

"but I was in the Dance Club." Her words had the intended effect. The crowd broke out into fits of giggles and chokles.

******

The clash of cymbals brought me back to the hall. The band was into their second song, Decenium. A bright trumpet fanfare introduction paved the way to a trumpet Solo.

I breathed a sigh of relief as the soloist finished. Jia Ying broke into more sniffs.

4 years ago I was in her position at Nanyang Polytechnic . I understood how it felt.

Their performance soon ended and I left the hall to congratulate them on a sterling performance.

There was pandemonium outside. Some were besides themselves for playing a perfect score. Others like a particular percussion player silently prayed that their half a beat delay did not cause the band her glory.

" Well Done!" I congratulated Sabrina. She nearly jumped on me as I shook her hand.

In the midst of the groups of estatic band members, the drone of the plasma TV and the guards of the entrance now arguing with another teacher in charge, I spotted Mrs. Chua.

"so how?" she asked waving her hands.

The alumni devved into comparing Hai Sing the bands before and after it.

" This year the judging quite strict. Try to console the secondary fours if they get a silver," she said , apparently talking about the single gold medal that was given out in the morning session.

And with that she left.

******

We got back into the hall just in time for the annoucement of the results.

Behind me to my right, a teenage girl with long slender fingers was using her Nokia phone to record the process on video.

After expressing his thanks to Meridian JC for the loan of their percussion instruments, he began the slow but inevitable countdown.

" SYF 2005 Central Judging of Concert Bands, results , in order of appearance."

"Band no. 105, Singapore Chinese Girls' School." He said in his deep baritone voice, pausing for effect.

"Gold"

Situated at the basement of Hai Sing Catholic School, right below the canteen was the band room. Once an Air Rifle range, it was converted into a fully air-conditioned , sound-proofed and painted glory we see everytime we went into the bandroom.

The singular green light of the exit sign lit up the noticeboard beside the door. The dustbin was in need of clearing. Uniform holders, shoe boxes, hangers littered the floor as if the band had left hurriedly in the middle of practice.

A corkboard mounted beside the noticeboard had an article on Mrs. Chua.

" St. Louis here I come," screamed the title.

A captioned picture of Mrs. Chua holding her french horn completed the newspaper article.

An old duster was placed on the ledge of the noticeboard . On it was written the results of the bands Mrs. Chua had under her.

Ngee Ann- Gold

Dunearn - Gold

Anglican High - Gold with Honours

Hai Sing - ?

Crescent Girls'- ?

Some well-meaning seniors had scribbled their blessings for Hai Sing. We were about to see whether if they paid off.

The thunderous roar brought me back to reality.

Catholic High had bagged themselves a gold with honours. They were band number 109.

As the cheers decrescendoed to a mutter, the annoucer, now more important than anything was ready to begin all over again.

Cedric and I were walking towards the MRT station one particular afternoon after a band rehearsal. He stopped mid step looked me in the eye and said in a solemn fashion,

" I regret not doing something."

" was it because you should have bought a bigger nail clipper?" I offered, trying to make conversation.

"No," he said, shaking his head.

" You know the message we wrote for the band members, I don't think they can see our name."

Scribbled in bright highlighter orange and green, stapled on the overhead board where everyone could see, our message read,

"All the best and have fun on stage."

We signed off in pen.

" By order of Cedric and Daniel."

Slightly misplaced in the oderly fashion of other messages that had important points to note while playing I told him that they could read it just fine.

The Hall exploded in another ear-shattering scream as band number 113, Dunman Secondary got another Gold.

By this time, excitement in the band had gone to a feverish pitch. Dwayne got his rosaries out. Calls were being put on hold. Messages were pouring into inboxes. Most had their eyes closed. All were fearful and yet expectant. The atmosphere was as taut as a bow string about to snap.

The lone solidary figure in front of the stage motioned for silence.

Two silvers and a bronze were given out in the short time I took to calculate that we were next up.

" Band number 117, Hai Sing Catholic School."

They say hope for the best but prepare for the worst. That was precisely what I told my juniors as they bombarded me with their questions when they came out of the hall. Yet, I knew that the gold was already right there for them, in their hearts.

I looked around at the faces around me. Some were praying, their eyes shut so tight they looked like they would have trouble opening them again. Others were freely weeping. I suddenly felt a peace like I have never felt before. In that moment, I had no worries.

"Gold."

I vaguely remember the events that followed save for the joyous strains of our School Song as they marched triumph down the stairs.

Outside the hall, the sky had turned dark. Birds were retreating to their warm nests. We were greeted by the Catholic High Band as they played under the rapidly darkening sky. For them, they had everything to show off about.

Placing my hands in my pockets, I felt an unusual bulge . I fished the foreign body out and realised that it was something I would throw away. Not now. It was my ticket.

For us, the magic was just beginning.