For those of you who have taken a good look at my face, and not lost you sanity, would have noticed a small scar between my eyebrows. A scar that I got as a child when I chose to pick a fight with a group of boys older than me for reasons that I cannot remember. But what I do remember is that the fight had started with my signature move, whereby I bit the guy's hair. While I was left disgusted by the hair that got stuck between my teeth, my victim gave me a shove that sent me flying against a strong teak bed that cut open a small wound on my forehead.
Those were the times, when arguments were won by fights, when the strongest of your friends was always right, when I only argued with those I was sure I could beat if I had to. Which was pretty much just this thin guy in my class who was too weak even to start an argument. And then I grew up, with my last known punch thrown in aggression being sometime in Secondary 2.
Lately, I realised that as you grow older, sometimes the differences between you and the people around you became more obvious and more unnerving. These differences were avoidable during your secondary school and JC years when you usually tended to stick with the people you knew. But in university, a time when patience ran extremely low, you came across a variety of people, some with opinions that left you wondering if they even bothered to think. And you would try to reason with them, but to no avail and you would be left fuming and seething. The whole day, or sometimes days, would turn sour as a result of this.
I have no proven solution to this conundrum. Some people say. respect the other's opinion. Some say don't waste your breath arguing and some say stand up for what you believe in.
Long gone are the days when there was but one way to settle it.
Not regretting. Just reminiscing...
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