First published in The Straits Times (YouthInk) on 31 March, 2012

I have been a big fan of Doctor Who since I was three. For the unacquainted, Doctor Who is a BBC sci-fi TV show about an humanoid-looking alien called the Doctor, who travels in time and space in a police box-like time machine known as the TARDIS (time and relative dimension in space).

So when I found out that there was a Doctor Who Symphonic Spectacular (DWSS) in Melbourne last month, I jumped at the chance to see the concert. After all, it was the first time that a Doctor Who production had travelled outside Britain.

The event was inspired by the Doctor Who Proms, a promenade concert in Britain in 2008 and 2010 that featured music from the Doctor Who series. This DWSS was exactly the same. Now, wouldn’t any Doctor Who music aficionado go?

Since I discovered it, the music of Doctor Who never fails to remind me of how exquisitely beautiful and philosophical the universe can be.

Murray Gold, the composer, is a genius. The concert was ethereal and conductor Ben Foster was a sight to behold - watching his hands was like watching a metronome on stage.

The Melbourne Symphony Orchestra and Concordis Chamber Choir were beautiful and accentuated every aspect of the show. Indeed, the Spectacular was well…spectacular.

Yet, February 4th was beyond a day of just music. I was finally able to meet fellow Whovians (fans of Doctor Who) as well as some members of the DWSS production team, some of whom I had been twitting back and forth for quite awhile.

For the Whovians, there was New Zealander Georgia Steel, an aspiring musician and conductor, who conducted Doctor Who music at her school. Then, there was Ms Katherine Maurer from Sydney, who, with her friends, wrote and filmed their own amateur Doctor Who episodes.

And finally, Mr Alex Rohan from Brisbane, a Whovian since he was young, who drove all the way down for the concert with his children.

As for people from the production, I met Gold and Foster, brand manager Edward Russell and actor Mark Sheppard. It was one of the most surreal meetings of my life.

Instead of “Hi, I’ve been a fan for years. Can I have your autograph?” and then I run off with delight, we talked strangely like old friends.

According to famed psychiatrist Carl Jung, synchronicity is the coming together of inner and outer events that cannot be explained by cause and effect and that is meaningful to the observer.

If indeed, my dream to work in a Doctor Who production holds strong in my heart, perhaps this trip was predestined and the biggest synchronicity could have culminated at the end, when, by chance, I saw Gold in a café.

He was there was a friend who knew that place well and I was with a friend who knew that place well too.

People live their entire lives in the same city and never meet. We had come from different lands and stayed there for a week or two. In a city with four million people and a thousand cafés, what were the odds of being in the same one?

Life can be strange sometimes when you are chasing your dreams, and at 26, I reckon it can only get stranger.

The writer, 26, works in the arts. Her DWSS experience forms part of her portfolio for future film and television undergraduate courses.

First published in The Straits Times (YouthInk) on 17/5/2010

  When I heard that the Youth Olympics Games (YOG) was calling for translators for about a dozen languages, I jumped immediately at the opportunity. It wasn’t just because I can codeswitch easily between advanced-level French and English. More importantly, it was a rare opportunity to take part in this new event, be an ambassador of Singapore and make friends with youths from all over the world. Never mind that I have to attend weekly trainings on Saturdays from this month and commit to at least seven full days during the Games –  all this with no pay: I know that this is an experience of a lifetime. I am not the only youth excited about the YOG. The enthusiasm shown by my peers during the 99-day countdown event, held at *Scape on May 7, is a sign that they are all keen.  To youths who are not interested in the YOG because of the lack of big sporting names, I say they are missing the point. As young Singaporeans, it is our duty to present ourselves and our country to fellow youths from around the world. You can say that I am all ready for the Games. I have written a French YOG-related poem and have had my braces changed to YOG colours – dark purple and lime green!

Aisha Mostafa, 24, graduated with honours from the University of Huddersfield. She works in the arts.

First published in The Straits Times (YouthInk) on 28/9/2009

  Despite having studied Malay for 19 years, as compared to French for two years, the latter has intrigued me more. The Alliance Française de Singapour where I am learning French, has an elective system where students can choose courses that teach them more than just the practical uses of the language. We can choose courses such as business, translation or current affairs. I am pursuing the latter. We can specialise in subjects as diverse as ecology and the arts, on top of honing our French. This way, the language becomes more relevant to us. After all, once the basics of a language such as grammar and phonetics are developed, a structured system which has to cater to everyone runs the risk of missing out on individual needs and interests. Why not take a leaf from this system and introduce specialised courses for Malay: Malay business, for example, to teach students business ethics in a globalised world; or Malay film and literature, for those who love the arts.

Aisha Mostafa, 24, graduated with honours from the University of Huddersfield. She works in the arts.

First published in The Straits Times (YouthInk) on 31/8/09

  In a society where filial piety is considered important, it is easy to point our fingers at the children and label them unfilial. But are we really seeing the whole picture? There may be some families whose parents were gamblers or abusers and were unable to provide for their children. In these cases, the children might have learnt to provide for themselves at an early age, the older ones even becoming ‘parents’ to their younger siblings. It is no surprise then that these children, as adults, disappear and are unwilling to provide for parents who have not fulfilled their caregiver roles. A series of mandatory counselling sessions between children and parents – or a representative of the parent – would work well to reveal both sides of the story. Such third-party arbitration is acceptable as long as it remains unbiased. After all, according to the law, everything may be black and white. But in real-life family situations, grey areas always exist.

Aisha Mostafa, 24, graduated with honours from the University of Huddersfield. She works in the arts.

First published in The Straits Times (YouthInk) on 24/8/09

  To the older generation, marriage may be about stability and having kids help to complete their idea of an ideal family nucleus. However, to us, marriage and kids have become somewhat of a commodity, by which we weigh the pros and cons of ‘investing’. Marriage involves both commitment and responsibility. Do we have the time for serious relationships? With a work week of at least 44 hours, compared to say 35 hours in France, I doubt it. Children are costly, financially and emotionally. With rising prices set against stagnant or decreasing pay, why would we want any? My long-term solutions to persuade us to marry and have kids: A reduced work week, for more time to relax and find love; further subsidies for education up to university level – maybe even giving Singaporeans free education? A part of me envisages meeting the right person, marrying him and bearing four children. But I am in no hurry to fulfil that right now – while the cons still outweigh the pros.

Aisha Mostafa, 24, graduated with honours from the University of Huddersfield. She is working in the arts.

First published in The Straits Times (YouthInk) on 15/6/09

  The Education Minister’s four Cs for university life are good recommendations, but since it has been three years since I left university for the working world, the values that work for me have changed somewhat. I do not covet the traditional five Cs as much as I did in my younger days. After all, transient possessions like a car and credit cards disappear as easily as they appear. My four Cs now to add to Dr Ng’s list are, ‘career’, ‘curriculum’, ‘character’ and ‘company’. I define career as working in a company where I can be happy and grow. I try one to gain as much experience as I can from each job, no matter how small, to prime myself for the next one. That leads to ‘curriculum’ – the aptitude for learning, whether at work or in life. That includes taking external courses whenever possible to build one’s resume. For instance, my French-language courses are a crucial step towards my dream job of working for Cirque du Soleil. I see character as my conduct in society; through words and actions, how people see me and how I see myself. Finally, ‘company’ refers to my relationships with loved ones and making time to keep in touch with them.

Aisha Mostafa,  23, graduated from the University of Huddersfield in 2006. She works in the arts and for a cafe chain.

First published in The Straits Times (YouthInk) on 23/3/09

I met the punishment meted out to the streakers with incredulity. Why such harshness when no one was hurt, albeit a few pairs of eyes? Expelling them from their hall is similar to a suspension from secondary school, in that they are both usually the last resort and the easiest option available. The guilty parties are not given a chance to redeem themselves. Instead, why not play them at their own game? Opt for a crazy and embarrassing punishment. Dress up as the school’s mascot for the next school event or wear pyjamas to class for a week. After all, university life comes with its own share of fun. If you take away all these, what’s left? Just essays and exams, nothing different from a boring working life.

Aisha Mostafa, 23, is an honours arts graduate from the University of Huddersfield

First published in The Straits Times (YouthInk) on 9/2/09

  Valentine’s Day may be just around the corner, yet I cannot even fathom its significance, having neither a significant other nor a full-time job. Socialising is expensive in this downturn, particularly on a part-time salary of around $50 per day. For instance, dinner at a French restaurant in the CBD area could set one back a good $40. This is not even taking into account the annual Feb 14 price hike on the day itself. Thus, come Saturday, I will be working. Why waste good money when you can earn it instead? Right now, I would rather St Valentine give me a full-time, well-paying job than a soulmate. After all, I have a whole lifetime to find the latter, but not the former.

Aisha Mostafa, 23, is an honours arts graduate from the University of Huddersfield

First published in The Straits Times (YouthInk) on 13/10/08

  It is interesting to note how naturally I return my food tray after a meal when overseas, yet not in Singapore. When I was studying in England, it was common practice for students and faculty alike to take their trays to collection points, so it was easy to follow suit. Conversely, in Singapore, people generally leave their trays uncleared. The collection points for trays are also more obscure and harder to reach. Hence, I also find it easy to follow suit. It is the habit of ‘following the masses’, rather than upbringing. In light of the recent movement, I shall try to change this and set a good example for others to follow.

Aisha Mostafa, 23, is an honours arts graduate from the University of Huddersfield

First published in The Straits Times (YouthInk) on 22/09/08

  I feel abashed reading about the irresponsibility of my peers in the papers, from underage sex to binge drinking and now illegal driving. I would not have dreamt of acting so immaturely. How little regard they have for life. Just imagine what youth in war-torn countries like Afghanistan and Iraq are going through. Due to constant terror attacks, they have to worry whether a simple trip to school or the corner shop would be their last. An illegal joyride around the neighbourhood or downing 10 shots of liquor in a row is the least on their minds. Why choose to flout the rules when you have your whole life ahead of you? I have a long list of things I want to achieve before I die and I am not going to let one foolish decision mar it.

Aisha Mostafa, 23, is an honours arts graduate from the University of Huddersfield