I, Pupil: Episode 4
“… it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness…”
I remember, at some point in my pupillage, the phrase “as I walk through the valley of the shadow of death” rang very clearly. No, I wasn’t dying. Heck, it was just pupillage, right? Everybody goes through this. Perhaps it was the stark reality of the demands of practice (they say it’s worse than pupillage) that was hitting me in the face. Whatever it was, it felt like a dark moment. It was.
It was brokenness, but it was also dependence. As the song goes, “the shadow proves the sunshine”.
A friend sent a text message, quoting Psalm 28:7 – “The Lord is my strength and my shield, my heart trusts in him, and he helps me. My heart leaps for joy, and with my song I will praise him”
Another friend quoted Jeremiah 1:5 – “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you…”
There isn’t anything brighter than the Word, really.
Then there was a most surprising three-part text message I received from a lawyer:
Its been tough few days & challenging month. Thanks for sticking with it. Kindly sleep early tonight.
What I remember most from those days was the strength of God, and the support of friends who would laugh, cry, pray and persevere with me. And there was Light.
I, Pupil: Episode 3
“… it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity…”
The pupil usually starts his pupillage with a set of ideas in his head. These ideas may not apply to every pupil, but each one has his unique set of ideas that form his imagination of pupillage. Here are some examples, generally:
- I want to be a bastion of justice, rights, etc.
- I want sane working hours
- I want to earn a good amount of money during my pupillage
- I want to learn as much as I can
- Pupillage is a breeze
- I only intend to do litigation/corporate/conveyancing alone
And for one very excited pupil, pupillage threw him a curve ball.
Reality kicked in. Belief seemed incredulous.
I came into pupillage like Moses entered Egypt after the burning bush experience – excited. Imagining myself in big cases, upholding the cause of the marginalised, defending liberty, etc. And within two months, the ‘hero’ in me died.
At that point, reality and I met face-to face. We had a talk. And the best place to chat? The KL Court cafeteria.
Was this what I really wanted to do? Would I pay the price? Is this what is demanded of me? All of my ideas of what it took to become a lawyer, those beliefs, were shattered. What would they be replaced with? What kind of beliefs would I hold on to eventually?
7 months on, and what seemed incredulous has been re-cemented as reasonable belief, forged by the circumstances of reality.
Yes, I still want to serve the marginalised. But I know a little more about what it takes.
Yes, I want to be a skillful and effective lawyer. But I know also that it starts with the mundane and routine.
Yes, I want to protect rights and do public interest litigation. But I need to also earn a living.
It is obvious then, how easy it is to lose sight of the vision, and replace it with the comforts of life. But I know my Lord has called us to a life of sacrifice.
On the day of my call to the Bar, my mover (the lawyer who moved my call the Bar) exhorted me:
Extreme in the defence of liberty is no vice; moderation in the pursuit of justice is no virtue
Thanks. I needed that.
I, Pupil: Episode 2
“… it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness…”
True. And very evident. It would seem that throughout most of my pupillage, there existed a chasm. It was called the lawyer’s table.
The lawyer sits at his/her side of the table. That’s the side with the fancy ergonomic chair that has wheels at the bottom and can swing from side to side.
Then there’s me. Standing at the other side of the table, ready with paper and pen to jot down every word.
Wisdom on one side, foolishness on the other.
Wisdom then dictates. With pen and paper, I furiously scribble every word, direction, picture, note, point of law, quip, question and DEADLINE. The idea? Write as much as you can, mull over it when you get back to your table.
Then the work starts – drafting a letter, researching a point of law, drafting an affidavit, calling up a government officer, staring at a statute, drafting an opinion, reading a case (and dozing off), asking for help (!), consulting a textbook, writing minutes and emailing.
And when the work is done, or the DEADLINE has arrived (whichever is earlier, normally the latter), foolishness meets wisdom, to deliver his work. The chasm – the lawyer’s table – reappears.
And oh, the multitude of responses wisdom giveth: A blank stare. Or the exclamation, “what is this?!??”. Or a blank stare that silently exclaims, “what is this?!??”
But as time passes, the chasm slowly and surely decreases. Wisdom is being imparted, overcoming foolishness. Common sense is restored.
And eventually, in time, wisdom affirms.
You see, it is not about the level of knowledge that one person has compared to another. It is the level of wisdom. The knowledge gap between a lawyer of 20 years’ seniority and a pupil of no experience will always be there. But the level of wisdom, that is attainable.
I don’t admit that I am as wise as those who have walked the road of legal practice. But as one prominent lawyer once told me, “When the Court declares you a ‘fit and proper’ person to be called to the Bar, it is not that you have learnt all there is to learn. But you have portrayed the requisite attitude to learn and do your best.”
That is wisdom.
I, Pupil
“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times…”
Quite frankly, there really is nothing like it. 9 months. Short enough to whizz by, yet long enough to bring life into the world. And within that time period, all of humanity’s major expressions – of love, joy, pain, guilt, ecstasy, humour, fear, faith – can be experienced.
Just like one partner told me at the end of my pupillage, when I asked her how she has lasted so long in the profession. She said, “There really is no feeling like the one you feel when you’ve won a case.” Pausing for a moment, she continues, “Then again, there’s is no feeling like losing the case either”.
The best of times? Oh yes indeed.
There is nothing like knowing that the file you’ve been working for hours upon, not just into the wee hours of the morning, but right into the middle of the day and up till the evening of that day, ends in victory. My first trimester (April 5th) was celebrated with a killer 36-hour work marathon. The result? A win in the High Court for the former Perak MB a month later. Unfortunately, I wasn’t there in the Court to entertain unbelievable delirium. But in the corner of the office where I sat, I entertained copious amounts of ecstasy. And I don’t even mean the blue pills either. It’s seventh heaven. It’s joyous celebration, calling for a celebratory hug with all and sundry, including the founding partner. Happiness that cannot be contained, springing forth like the Old Faithful.
The worst of times? Oh yes indeed.
The 36-hour working marathon. And did I say killer as well? The learning curve was steep, the lawyers’ rebuke, at times vicious. By the end of my first two months, the reality of legal practice (or the taste of it) was kicking in. Throwing me off balance, tempting me to retreat. It was the feeling of being in the ‘pit’. Clueless, helpless, restless. The workdays were workdays, and then weekends, workdays.
My master once asked me, while I was relating the hectic-ness of my pupillage then, “what do you mean by (going home) late?”
“Erm, working till 7 am?”
“Ah, I understand now.”
Back then, it was no laughing matter, especially when the only thing sustaining you is adrenaline.
There were difficult moments. Times when you wished to just break down and cry.
But we never forget, it was also the best of times.
Bomb
Thursday night dropped a bomb on me. Little did I know what to expect, little I still know now. The only thing still echoing in my mind from that night was Acts 13:1-3, and I still don’t understand it. Me?
In the hurried ‘mess’ of sorting out my call to the Bar, and the many errands and responsibilities to run, major decisions are being made. The ‘me’ I know is being carved out into some kind of sculpture, the form of which I cannot yet imagine. Who I will be in the years to come, and what I do with my life seem to hinge on this very moment.
But yet a part of me thinks that it isn’t made out to be as major or as daunting as it sounds. Am I trivialising the issue, perhaps? I do not know.
I Have Read in Chambers
Done. 9 months, and a baby (lawyer) is born.
I made a promise, at the height of my pupillage period when it was the most hectic, that I would kiss the floor of my house the moment I returned home on my last day of pupillage. That I did, in front of my brother’s unamused face.
So what has 9 months taught me? A lot. About law, about work, about relationships, and a tinge of every aspect of life I think a 25-year old oughtta know about being a young adult.
One of the lawyers challenged me to write about my pupillage, because “no one knows that you pupils are suffering in silence”. I just might do that – an sneak peek into a pupil’s life (minus the confidential parts)
Coming soon to a blog near you.
a-hini
Sorry, I digress a little. Just to note that this isn’t the best time to be seen/heard blowing your nose or sniffing back outgoing mucous in the LRT.
People stare at you.
*sniff* and my eyes are burning.. oh boy, oh boy
A Nation and its People: The Citizen
Perhaps a foundational point in this exercise is to understand that by the term ‘nation’, I mean the people. Not the government alone. Despite the divinity we grant to a government “of the people, by the people, for the people”, it is very likely that the government becomes an entity either seen as lording its power over others, or a slave to the whims of society.
Therefore, the ‘duties’ I intend to speak of here apply to the people of the nation. Quite ideally, they chart the course of the nation – by elections and by everyday living. Every citizen therefore owes his duty both as an individual and corporately as a community of citizens.
In no order of importance and by no means comprehensive, I propose the following duties:
1. The duty to pursue equality and solidarity.
2. The duty to uphold truth and justice.
3. The duty to respect authority.
4. The duty to honour freedom.
A Nation and its People
It seems all too common that a nation’s citizenry often plays “catch up” with the direction of his country. Hence, a solution is only thought up when a problem occurs, which very often is too late. A life is lost, a misunderstanding established and relationships are ruined.
Can the citizenry chart the course and dictate the values of its nation? Does it have a somewhat ‘prophetic’ quality?
My attempt, in the days leading to Malaysia Day, is to try and chart that course, by asking myself these questions: what is the duty of a nation? What are its priorities? What obligations does it have toward mankind, both within and without?
Perhaps, our course and direction will become clearer.
