Irene entered St. Paul in our sophomore year. Everybody was intrigued by her— she was assumed to be smart like everyone else in the uh Science Class.
“Who is Irene?” I asked Ralph while exiting the premises for lunch. “Describe her, is she cute?”
“She’s stout!” said he. I chuckled.
‘Till 3rd year, Irene had a recognized romance with my friend, Karyl. So I finally met with her, and she was this jovial little girl who loved to laugh boisterously as if she’s the only human being in the entire cosmos.
And then she was called by her pet name, Aien; she became more famous rather infamous of her “stumblin’ and tumblin’” moment in our COQC summer training. In a great run an alumnus officer called ‘scram’, all of us aspirants ran around the building in one round as fast as our feet can handle. In one round she stumbled in a step, word of mouth said, and successively she fell and had some her feet or foot (I really didn’t know) in a piteous condition. She was excused form rigorous training as caution to her one foot.
The next morning, she arrived to school like nothing happened: she drove her car all by herself and aided herself with a wheel chair.
“What the hell?!” we pondered.
In 4th year, Aien and I built some zealous rapport because of the school play “Sound of Music” in which we had roles. Imagine Aien in a nun costume. Hah!
Now, she’s a friend out there. She’s someone whom you can send some SMS and can reply a.s.a.p. unless she’s having some inter-economic crisis.
Moments with this stout girl yield smiles, and most of the time laughter.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY AIEN!