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I just finished reading Jodi Picoult's 'The Pact'. Surprisingly it brought into my mind a memory of me being a pretend witness for the PCLL students in their mock trials examinations. I was the secretary of company X whilst my boss is being held for negligence or something of the sort. I must say I defended my boss beautifully, remembering to specific when necessary, playing dumb when necessary, the typical loyal secretary.
The scene that came to mind was my feelings for both sides of the lawyers as they went for each other's throats. To be more accurate, they politely bickered. I remember feeling let down as I saw and experienced none of the fierce emotions I thought I would see in a court, and as these 30s to 40s people bickered politely, I remember feeling bored, and when my turn was over, couldn't be bothered to stay and see the outcome of the judge (no jury for these examinations). During the break though, the judge did mention that I defended my pretend boss quite well, but her performance itself lacked clarity, and she didn't know what she was doing, thereby affecting her lawyers and their performance.
I remember, as I came out of the courts right outside Hong Kong Park, that I didn't want to aspire to be a lawyer if this was what it entailed. Dispassionate argument with no heart.
At this point I was brought back and thought of the book I just read, how fiery and emotional the lawyers were, how they defended themselves regardless of whether they thought of the truth of the case or not. I realise had I been exposed to these type of people, I would have considered these type of careers.
Then another memory popped into my mind, this time of High School, amidst a debate regarding euthanasia. I was sitting on the side as my opposition, a thin Indian straight-As girl, paced the floor and occasionally slammed her hands down on the table in front of her to emphasize a point. I remember thinking how she was overreacting, and that neither her pacing nor her loud noisemaking hands would win her the case. I remember how calmly I countered, and how I used my voice instead of my hands to make any emphasis. I remember enjoying debate, picking away at any holes the opposition leeked, fighting for any small chance to make a difference in the outcome of the jury.
And then I remember arguing with people I cared about. I remember that I usually won, not because I held the truth all the time, but because I could so eloquently twist any truth to be the universal truth. I remember smugly winning my brother, my boyfriends, my parents, only to hide away at a later stage to cry on my own. I didn't understand why I would feel so bad afterwards, I am still unsure whether I cried because it was an argument, or because they couldn't twist me out of my truth. I am a bitch that way, innocent until proven guilty. My innocence, until proven guilty.
As I type this I remember discussing with Sam on something I felt strongly about, and Sam going about her usual calm logical way of picking apart my thoughts. I remember her explaining something in a way that never crossed my mind, and a peace coming over me. Technically she had won, but if it makes any sense, I felt like a winner, because I was at peace with myself. I had been convinced and although my strong feelings stayed similar, they were persuaded by Sam's calm, logical, intuitions.
I don't know what made me come online and write all this into blurty, after such a long lapse, but at this very moment, my mind feels a certain clarity it hasn't felt in a long while.
I feel like there's a better tomorrow.
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