Autobiographical

The number one single Start by the Jam in early September 1980 seemed fairly apt. In the end I decided I didn’t want to go down that route and repeat the year, preferring to finish my time at school as soon as possible with my friends. Naturally, there was one down side to this decision – I had to focus on studying hard for once.

In the end this wasn’t hard to do, as apart from table football and the surreal experience of a sixth form where you had 15 girls and 150 boys with suppressed libido issues, the year was pretty uneventful, with one minor romance and more heartbreak not worth considering here. At the same time, it was more enjoyable owing to the knowledge that this period of my life would all be over soon. 

At least some torments would come to an end, from the endless juvenile shouting of “boom boom” – in recollection of my first name and the children’s TV show with the toy fox Basil Brush, to “Basil!” – referencing the hapless hotel owner Basil Fawlty expertly played by John Cleese in the comedy series Fawlty Towers.

My long hair would also be the source of amusement for some, leading to comparisons to Lady Di, the one member of the royal family I have always respected, as well as to George Michael. In later life, unfortunately, the comparison would be less flattering – Elton John.

When I did poorly in the mock German A level exam (three pupils – two A students and yours truly close to failing) in May 1981, the teacher urged my parents to make me drop the subject. I was stubborn, refused and in the end got the grade required for admission to university.  At the time I had planned to follow in my father’s footsteps and took entrance exams to go to Peterhouse College, Cambridge. However, I either failed the exams or interview (or both!) – admittedly, I was still a pretty immature seventeen-year old. 

The one thing I do recall, both on finishing classes, then exams and subsequently entrance admission to Cambridge, was the sense of emptiness and loss, a realisation that I would probably never see again a number of people I had spent years getting to know. 

It was a sense of isolation and solitude, no doubt attributable in part to uncertainty about the future. We receive no preparation for such a change in our lives and the negative impact can be telling. I know of a suicide that happened shortly after one fellow student completed his studies and wonder if this sentiment of detachment and void might have played a role. It would be good if the authorities or someone in society respected by the youth of today were to look into this issue and offer some solutions.

Apart from the friendships I made at school, a couple of whom I see to this day, albeit irregularly, I would be hard pressed to claim that I had enjoyed the experience. It is no doubt a rite of passage that can both leave lifelong scars and open up doors to new opportunities. 

By contrast, I remember every day at university in London with pleasure and cherish the long-term friendships made back then both in the UK and during the time teaching and working in the south of France during the year abroad. I felt very lucky to embark on that journey where learning went hand in hand with something akin to burgeoning maturity.

Painting by Kazakh artist Manas Kisamedinov