I was cleaning up my room when I found a forgotten script that I had carelessly tossed aside after the play was over. It was titled, "Yesterday My Classmate Died", a powerful play by Alfian Sa'at.
I was impressed by how the play had turned out 3 years ago and I really enjoyed myself putting it up although sometimes I do feel like I played very insignificant roles in the play. But this is not my primary concern.
As I read through the script again, the full significance and the impact of the play actually hits me, in more ways than one. Perhaps it is because I had matured in more ways than one over these few years, and the play took on a deeper meaning for me. I realised that a lot of things and questions I'd been asking and searching were actually right in front of me, in the torn and worn pages of the script.
The play itself deals primarily with existential concerns and how the people around it copes with the death itself. At the same time, it skirts around other issues like relationships. Complete with wit, it was really far from the expection of a dark and brooding play despite the title. In many ways, it
is indeed a dark brooding play, in its own way.
The script now I have in my hands are edited and non-authentic. When I found the original script, I'll have it posted here. But here's my favourite scene (edited), staring Melissa Chew and Lynn Sim:
M : Lynn? [Lynn ignores] They're going to remove that table tomorrow, you know.
L : Let them try.
M : I think they might remove it today.
L : Then I'll chain myself to this table and sing songs till I drive them away.
M : Come on Lynn. There are only 39 students in class but 40 tables. Don't you think it's odd to have an empty table in the classroom? I think it's very distracting. And we could do with an extra bit of space.
L : Space for what? To sit down and listen to you telling us fairy tales? Well, I guess there'll be one story you won't be able to tell.
M : What?
L : Rapunzel. The prince touches Rapunzel's hair... and that's a big no-no. Because in Melissa Chew's rule book, boy and girl cannot touch, even if the boy wears latex gloves. If touch, then the girl go straight to K K Hospital.
M : I just don't like all this boyfriend-girlfriend business going on when some of you aren't even mature enough to handle the relationship.
L : And you're a muggertoad. Prude and muggertoad. I heard, in the toilet, that you seal your books into Ziploc bags and you mug. And, I heard you asked the principal whether you could wear a petticoat to school. Prude, prude, prude!
M : That's not true! They are all rumours!
L : Eh... How come today you're still in school? Aren't you the first one to go home everyday? By the time we finish saying "Thank you Teacher", you're already at the bus stop across the road.
M : I just want to stay a while today. [pause] Everyone knows your mother writes chldren books. What's one of them call?... the helicoptor one...
L : Hector the Helicoptor. She has published altogether 4 wildly successful books in the series.
M : Eh... so both our bothers are writers. My mother writes reports; your mother writes... transports!
L : Your mother is a reporter?
M : No. A Scretary. She's a superwoman. She cleans, cooks, types, raises 3 children, yet still have time to pluck my father's white hair.
L : But my mother's different from yours. Yours is not really a writer. She bangs on the typewriter like a robot... But my mom... she... she strokes each key lovingly, join the letters. And words swim in her hand. Which is the difference between you and me: You sit and think... while I run and dream.
M : Running will get you nowhere.
L : Yah... And sitting will?
M : If you're sitting on the back of a limousine... [smiles dreamily] and you can only get there when you work hard. My mother told me that. You can go ahead and build your castles Lynn... All I want is to build a bunglow of my, with a garder, a porch... and my mother. And I'll drive her to the jewelers... she like bangles you know... but she had 3 pawned off to pay the electric bills. My father told her... in a blackout, nobody can see your gold glittering. And I'll bring her to a manicurist, and I'll let them work on her nails till they shine like pearls. She won't have to cut them for anyone. Can you believe that? Her own long sharp nails! Oh!... [shakes head] I think I've talked too much... Where were we?
L : No. Please continue.
M : Let's talk about something else.
L : No. Why must we? I never thought you could fantasize till like that.
M : Am I fantasizing? No... This isn't fantasy. This is my goal.
L : [wistfully] It's a beautiful dream
M : It's my mission in life.
L : Why don't you just admit that you poked your head in the clouds for a moment there?
M : No! My mother told me... our 3-room flat was too small for these types of wishful thinking. You dream only when you're not doing anything important... like when you are sleeping!
L : So... it's still the same old Melissa then. Nothing's changed.
M : There never was a different Melissa.
L : I thought I saw a glimpse of one just now.
M : [irritably] Look... I didn't stay back in school just so that you can try to change me. Working hard never hurt anyone.
L : But what if you work
TOO hard?
M : Stop talking about me. [pause] Tell me more about yourself.
L : [sinister] My name is Melissa Chew.
M : Oh. Come on!
L : Mugger with a mission. I have no social life and no boyfriend and no real friend even! I'm going to build a bunglow with my books!
M : Lynn, stop this!
L : When my classmate died, I didn't even bother to put my Math aside to listen, to feel, to just think for a moment... and I don't understand what someone's like really means because I've no life in the first place!
M : I'm only here to help you!
L : Help me do WHAT? Become like YOU?
M : I know what you write in your journal. Mrs Li showed it to me. You think that Amy is happier now that she's dead. And you write all sorts of rubbish, asking what is means to be really free, and wanting to fly to another world... Mrs Li sent me to talk to you because she thinks you're unstable and might have suicidal tendencies!
L : This is sick!
M : You think I want to get stuck in the same room with an unstable person? I was just assigned a duty!
L : You have no right to read my journal!
M : Mrs Li showed it to me!
L : You know what?
M : What?
L : You're a failure Melissa. Because right now, I think you know more about yourself than you ever found out about me.
I was cleaning up my room when I found a forgotten script that I had carelessly tossed aside after the play was over. It was titled, "Yesterday My Classmate Died", a powerful play by Alfian Sa'at.
I was impressed by how the play had turned out 3 years ago and I really enjoyed myself putting it up although sometimes I do feel like I played very insignificant roles in the play. But this is not my primary concern.
As I read through the script again, the full significance and the impact of the play actually hits me, in more ways than one. Perhaps it is because I had matured in more ways than one over these few years, and the play took on a deeper meaning for me. I realised that a lot of things and questions I'd been asking and searching were actually right in front of me, in the torn and worn pages of the script.
The play itself deals primarily with existential concerns and how the people around it copes with the death itself. At the same time, it skirts around other issues like relationships. Complete with wit, it was really far from the expection of a dark and brooding play despite the title. In many ways, it
is indeed a dark brooding play, in its own way.
The script now I have in my hands are edited and non-authentic. When I found the original script, I'll have it posted here. But here's my favourite scene (edited), staring Melissa Chew and Lynn Sim:
M : Lynn? [Lynn ignores] They're going to remove that table tomorrow, you know.
L : Let them try.
M : I think they might remove it today.
L : Then I'll chain myself to this table and sing songs till I drive them away.
M : Come on Lynn. There are only 39 students in class but 40 tables. Don't you think it's odd to have an empty table in the classroom? I think it's very distracting. And we could do with an extra bit of space.
L : Space for what? To sit down and listen to you telling us fairy tales? Well, I guess there'll be one story you won't be able to tell.
M : What?
L : Rapunzel. The prince touches Rapunzel's hair... and that's a big no-no. Because in Melissa Chew's rule book, boy and girl cannot touch, even if the boy wears latex gloves. If touch, then the girl go straight to K K Hospital.
M : I just don't like all this boyfriend-girlfriend business going on when some of you aren't even mature enough to handle the relationship.
L : And you're a muggertoad. Prude and muggertoad. I heard, in the toilet, that you seal your books into Ziploc bags and you mug. And, I heard you asked the principal whether you could wear a petticoat to school. Prude, prude, prude!
M : That's not true! They are all rumours!
L : Eh... How come today you're still in school? Aren't you the first one to go home everyday? By the time we finish saying "Thank you Teacher", you're already at the bus stop across the road.
M : I just want to stay a while today. [pause] Everyone knows your mother writes chldren books. What's one of them call?... the helicoptor one...
L : Hector the Helicoptor. She has published altogether 4 wildly successful books in the series.
M : Eh... so both our bothers are writers. My mother writes reports; your mother writes... transports!
L : Your mother is a reporter?
M : No. A Scretary. She's a superwoman. She cleans, cooks, types, raises 3 children, yet still have time to pluck my father's white hair.
L : But my mother's different from yours. Yours is not really a writer. She bangs on the typewriter like a robot... But my mom... she... she strokes each key lovingly, join the letters. And words swim in her hand. Which is the difference between you and me: You sit and think... while I run and dream.
M : Running will get you nowhere.
L : Yah... And sitting will?
M : If you're sitting on the back of a limousine... [smiles dreamily] and you can only get there when you work hard. My mother told me that. You can go ahead and build your castles Lynn... All I want is to build a bunglow of my, with a garder, a porch... and my mother. And I'll drive her to the jewelers... she like bangles you know... but she had 3 pawned off to pay the electric bills. My father told her... in a blackout, nobody can see your gold glittering. And I'll bring her to a manicurist, and I'll let them work on her nails till they shine like pearls. She won't have to cut them for anyone. Can you believe that? Her own long sharp nails! Oh!... [shakes head] I think I've talked too much... Where were we?
L : No. Please continue.
M : Let's talk about something else.
L : No. Why must we? I never thought you could fantasize till like that.
M : Am I fantasizing? No... This isn't fantasy. This is my goal.
L : [wistfully] It's a beautiful dream
M : It's my mission in life.
L : Why don't you just admit that you poked your head in the clouds for a moment there?
M : No! My mother told me... our 3-room flat was too small for these types of wishful thinking. You dream only when you're not doing anything important... like when you are sleeping!
L : So... it's still the same old Melissa then. Nothing's changed.
M : There never was a different Melissa.
L : I thought I saw a glimpse of one just now.
M : [irritably] Look... I didn't stay back in school just so that you can try to change me. Working hard never hurt anyone.
L : But what if you work
TOO hard?
M : Stop talking about me. [pause] Tell me more about yourself.
L : [sinister] My name is Melissa Chew.
M : Oh. Come on!
L : Mugger with a mission. I have no social life and no boyfriend and no real friend even! I'm going to build a bunglow with my books!
M : Lynn, stop this!
L : When my classmate died, I didn't even bother to put my Math aside to listen, to feel, to just think for a moment... and I don't understand what someone's like really means because I've no life in the first place!
M : I'm only here to help you!
L : Help me do WHAT? Become like YOU?
M : I know what you write in your journal. Mrs Li showed it to me. You think that Amy is happier now that she's dead. And you write all sorts of rubbish, asking what is means to be really free, and wanting to fly to another world... Mrs Li sent me to talk to you because she thinks you're unstable and might have suicidal tendencies!
L : This is sick!
M : You think I want to get stuck in the same room with an unstable person? I was just assigned a duty!
L : You have no right to read my journal!
M : Mrs Li showed it to me!
L : You know what?
M : What?
L : You're a failure Melissa. Because right now, I think you know more about yourself than you ever found out about me.
-; little lotte } @ 11:58 PM
the superficial world.
Wednesday, December 8, 2004
