First class on Tuesdays is mostly soft skill development. All the subject ever talks about is professionalism, like some kind of communism, realism or idealism, like it's a receipt of our success—we must pay off. Chalkboard smeared with yesterday's lesson, muted desks blending with the mahogany, cinnamon and ivory—colours we are advised to wear. Never black and white though, those are reserved for our lives. I sit and stare, at the instructor writing something, at the chalk board, and at my classmates, like open wounds. The instructor pauses at a crucial point, then says, "Always aim to arrive five minutes early and leave five minutes late." He smiles at our puzzled expressions, adding, "It's a way to build reliability. When
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