The Lady's Gone

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The Lady's Gone

Memories of my university days have now become sketchy. But I do remember I used to spend more time at the Sports Centre than in the library.  

One morning while doing push-ups and puffing away manfully by the wayside, my literature professor, who didn't seem to have done more exerting exercise in his life than turning a page of his book, walked past and remarked wryly, "You might've noticed the lady has already gone." 

It gives me the giggles now. But I took my push-ups very seriously then, not unlike those students who rammed against Legco's glass-fronted entrance yesterday. Wasn't it a bit like a bunch of kids who threw tantrums at a toy store because it was closed?

True that this may not be an altogether appropriate analogy. The matter is more serious, hence the degree of frustration. But violence begets violence. Even if the other side refuses to play by the rule, are you going to smash up their room in anger even though you know you'll be the ones who are going to pay for the wreckage in the end?

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