Graduation Gowns, Cheerful Crowds and Gratuitous Gifts: A Celebration of Success While Reminiscing Love By Ananya Reddy B
The morning sun rose delicately as it watched over the students who were about to begin their new phase of life. Meticulous strides filled the room as the graduates ascended downstairs with attires that highlighted the end of a journey. Smiles plastered on their faces, clumsy chatters with their loved ones and nibbles on finger snacks whilst hustling around to hastily capture this proud moment with their loved ones.

It’s the day when their loved ones who constantly supported them through this journey showed up to stand by their side and commemorate their years of effort which now, finally, had come to an end. A subtle reminder that as they step into the real world, their loved ones will always be with them.
The sound of immense clicks erupted when graduates gathered around to take photographs with family, friends and significant others. One hand tightly grasped the graduation scroll whereas the other balanced a delicately assembled flower bouquet, warm palms of the witnesses of their milestone placed across their shoulders and their eyes glistened at the whir of the cameras.
From small talks with the parents of graduates to spectating the proud smiles on their faces as they glanced at their children, I was able to notice their unconditional love and attempted to comprehend their hidden sacrifices. A sudden realisation hit me that this was also an important moment for them – what had started with sending their child away for a brighter future, giving them an opportunity to become independent and vacations that they looked forward to finally meeting their kids again but also constantly worrying about them.

Similarly, I appreciated the graduates who left their families behind in their home countries to build a life and community in an entirely new country where they were given the privilege to dream, be passionate and rediscover themselves.
Homesickness. Freedom. Responsibilities.
Anxiety. Pressure. Adaptation.
Hot snacks were served, used plates were taken away by swift hands of scurrying workers. Many graduates remained at the Sunway Hotel’s entrance which was accessible to everyone, thus, leading to them being engulfed by bustling crowds of excited friends, family, acquaintances, relatives and juniors.
Many other graduates had made their way back into the campus to revisit the spaces that initially saw their nervous beginnings, which now they trod across with familiarity achieved from practiced experience. A silent prompt that now they will be referred to as Monash Alumni.

Countless memories they made here.
Countless lessons they learnt.
Above all, friendships that will last a lifetime became invaluable gifts they received alongside their academic achievements.
One cheeky friend came along with an eye-catching bouquet assembled using two eggplants, four carrots, four bell peppers, one broccoli, beans and chillis. This was undoubtedly the most humorous gift of the day, and had lifted the spirits of all bystanders.

The small drizzles of rainwater that sneaked into the sunny day had finally ceased allowing soap bubbles to take over the sports ground, creating a spellbound ambiance for the perfect graduation pictures. The once silent ground, deprived of any attention, ultimately received its chance to invite a rejoiced bunch of graduates who revived the entire space with their symphony of laughter.
Corridors. Monash signboards. Rooftops.
Not even the library was spared, enthusiastic glees rang spontaneously as they huddled together for their group photoshoots.
Caps in the air.
Hugs, kisses and playful poses.

When there was less than ten minutes left to return their graduation gowns, all of them bolted back to the hotel. Once their gowns were returned, they at last acquired the tangible piece of paper that certified their dedicated endeavours at Monash.
Was this the end?

Their graduation may have marked the end of a chapter, but not always the beginning of a next one. For many, the future remains uncertain. Yet, surrounded by love and support, they can move forward with a quiet confidence that they are not alone – and that, in time, everything will fall into place.
You still have the whole book waiting for you!
Monash Graduation 2026: Gradually Letting Go by Deena Kamran

Love was in the air. More accurately, a sharp pang of it upon the nose as bouquets of roses, peonies, and hyacinths streamed in, held by graduates clad in forget-me-not blue sashes and sharp black gowns. They had the disposition of runners who had crossed the finishing line, smiles triumphant and the adrenaline of the sprint not forgotten. The years of tireless work were behind them, degree in hand, graduation cap long-tossed into the air.
The graduates of 2026 descended the stairs and entered the hall in streams, swarmed by their families. The hall was warmly lit, soft jazz music playing in the distance, and golden arches casting a dream-like glow about the room. Except that the dream was over, or more so, it had come true.

It was apparent in the misty-eyed gaze of parents and grandparents, as they trailed their child who was now a university graduate, the manifestation of a dream. Though these dreams are shared, they are contextually different. For one, it is the completion of university and the excitement of a promising career ahead. For another, it is watching a loved one get the education you never had. As a proud father put it, ‘the feeling is indescribable’.
Perhaps the common undercurrent entwining some of these dreams is being reunited, reunited with the people and the place that made Monash memorable. At the graduation event, it felt like these memories lingered in the background, overwhelmed by the glimmer of a hydrangea-blue degree in hand and the presence of proud family members and friends.

Those memories were revisited shortly after the event came to an end, when the Monash campus managed to pull the students from hours ago back to its grounds. This time, it was not to cram in the library or attend a 9 AM lecture bleary-eyed, but to say goodbye. It was time to let go of the hangout spot of multicultural friend groups (the field), the poppy-yellow benches that became study spots when the library was unsurprisingly full, and the place that shaped so many. As one graduate said, ‘It was one hell of three years, I enjoyed every moment of it.’ Other graduates made similar comments, though their nervousness about the future was quick to follow. One said, ‘I can feel my feet trembling from the adrenaline, but I’m really excited about what’s ahead of me.’
Even in the hall, it was a subliminal message represented by the ‘Future First’ career fair posters scattered about, signalling that as fleeting as years at Monash had felt, so would graduation. I couldn’t help but think this when the graduates first descended the stairs onto level 10, which, oddly enough, is below the lobby of Sunway Resort Hotel, where the event took place. It felt like Schrӧder’s staircase illusion in a sense. The same stairs that led them to the hall where they could celebrate with their families, take pictures, and capture the moment, also brought them to the start— the start of professional life.

Perhaps this feeling was best symbolised by the most popular choice of flowers—Lilies. This trumpet-shaped flower with its dual-hued petals symbolises new beginnings, putting a name to the feeling that was teeming within each graduate. The same bouquets that represent congratulations seem to forebode gradually letting go of Monash, as the lulls of a promising future loom ahead.
The family you never planned to grow with by Nupriyaa Grihapathy
Graduation day means something different to everyone.
I attended Monash University’s graduation not as a graduate, but as an observer, listening, and sharing the story of a day full of emotions. I found not just one person’s triumph, but a celebration of love, family, and every quiet act of perseverance behind the moment.
Monash University’s graduation and what it means to grow up together as a family.

This all begins at the start of university orientation, expecting to find what is now called an “accidental family.” This is a group that comes together through shared experiences rather than blood. These bonds don’t form instantly. Instead, they grow over long lunches and late-night talks. These talks become unexpectedly meaningful. A quiet trust appears. Someone will always be there when you need them. “Accidental family” describes relationships that develop as we keep choosing to show up and support each other. We weave an unplanned but lasting connection.
Therefore watching the graduating individuals, you’d notice it in the faces around them. These are people who have both relied on others and been relied on themselves. Here at the university, “counting” isn’t just about statistics. It isn’t about being part of a tally. It’s a metaphor for trust. Where when challenges arise, the university helps you discover who truly stands by you. These people are there in difficult times, not just in easy ones. They offer a steady pace of presence, even without being asked or asking for anything in return.
From the line of blooming friendship would stand the love and pride a mother holds for their young one now graduating, wearing the mortarboard. If you really want to know what graduation means, do not focus on the stage, watch the parents in the crowd. A mother’s pride is neither about grades nor awards. It’s about the quiet relief of finally seeing her child make it safely into their own life. I saw it that day. It doesn’t need words; it’s all in the eyes.

There’s also a family not far from the graduates heart that gathers not just from relations, but from belonging. Friends who supported every late night and tough moment took pride in it just as much.
Some in that hall had not merely driven across town. They had crossed oceans.
Tucked into the rows of that graduation hall were families who had booked flights weeks, sometimes months, in advance. They came from across Southeast Asia, the Middle East, Africa, and corners of the world where Malaysia is not a short trip but a serious journey. They navigated airports, time zones, and the exhaustion of long haul travel. They did all this for a ceremony that would last a few hours. The moment was worth every bit of effort to them.

Thinking on what the meaning is, for years, these families watched from a distance. They received voice notes, not conversations. They made video calls, not dinners. They saw photographs on Instagram of a life being lived far from home and family. They celebrated birthdays across time zones. They worried quietly through exam seasons, they could only follow from afar. This distance never made them less present in spirit. It just made moments like this even more precious. After all that waiting, they were finally in the same room with the person they adored, now adorned in the prideful graduation coat of green.
Furthermore, there is a particular kind of emotion that comes with this reunion. It is not just pride, but relief. Relief comes from seeing with your own eyes that your child is well, whole, and standing tall in a place they chose to build. No photograph could have prepared them. No video call could match the feeling of watching their name be called. In that moment, they knew: we made it here, all of us, together.

Outside the hall, you see parents holding cameras a little too tightly. Siblings are dressed up for an occasion they know matters, even if they aren’t sure why. Relatives who had never been to Malaysia before take it all in with wide, grateful eyes. They weren’t just attending a graduation. They were completing a journey that started the day their child first left home with a suitcase and a plan.
That is what makes graduation moving. It is not just one person’s victory. It belongs to everyone who loved from afar and, when the time came, it closed the distance.
Behind every name called at graduation was an unseen story. Early mornings, late nights, doubts, and perseverance defined the journey. For these graduates, the answer had always been yes, they just had to prove it.
Perseverance rarely looks heroic. It means showing up, day after day, even when progress feels invisible. These graduates did just that , through their undergraduate years, which tested their foundations, and their postgraduate years, which tested everything else. Their presence was not just about academic achievement, but about refusing to stop. That deserves celebration more than any title.

Lastly it is not only a graduation but also a moment to lean in and see the bigger picture. Standing outside after the ceremony, the Malaysian afternoon sunlight insisted on being noticed. People watched as fresh graduates were welcomed by those who love them most. There was laughter. There were photographs. The hugs said “I am so proud of you” without a word.
In that moment, I understood the day’s true meaning. It is not about the scroll, the stage, or even the degree. It is realising you have grown into someone ready for something bigger, quietly prepared for in those lecture halls. The accidental family, those who relied on you, a mother’s pride, past growth, and departures all here. This is the beginning.
“It is not the mountain we conquer, but ourselves.” by Edmund Hillary
Overall walking away from that ceremony, I carried something I didn’t come in with. A reminder that the most important things in life are rarely found alone, they are built slowly and imperfectly, with the people who choose to stay. The graduates who walked that stage didn’t just earn a degree. They proved something about themselves that no certificate could fully capture.

And to every family who crossed an ocean, every friend who showed up through the hard years, every mother whose pride lived quietly in her eyes this day belonged to you, too. Graduation is never just one story. It is all of yours, woven together, finally arriving at the same place at the same time.
Photos by Brandon Y., Faith L., Rida Khan, Kristine C., Yuto K.
