#56: Roads

Yesterday, my seniors finally graduated from college. We had their farewell party. It was fun; there was dancing, laughing, a bit of crying, too, if I’m not wrong, and everything, at least for them, I’m certain, had this imbuement of nostalgia about it. Like everything was coloured yellow. An antique yellow, you know. But that might well just be me blabbing, or maybe it was because the lighting was actually yellow. Either way, it was there.

So, I being the pretentious shvantz I am, was actually caught up in thought several times as everything went on around me. It was probably the last time most of these people, if not all, would see each other- possibly for the rest of their lives, or for a very very long time, at least.

Maybe, in, like thirty years, one of them’ll be walking along the aisles at a grocery store, and, they’ll see someone from their class standing across from them. Skin wrinkling, hair-greying. And then maybe they’ll chat, about old times, a minute or two, holding their kid’s hand as they do. But that’ll be it. They’ll say their goodbyes and part again, pushing their trolley back into the mundanity of daily routine. So, that’s probably what time most of them have with each other, now. Two or three years of senile conversation, thirty odd years from now.

But that’s probably just the romantic in me talking, isn’t it? Que Sera Sera, it is, then. Whatever will be, will be. The future’s not mine to see.

Fin.

#55: Dream

So, today, I seriously started thinking about university. Before I continue, you should know that before too long ago, with the way things stood, I was destined to become a doctor. You see, both my parents are doctors, and, living in Pakistan of all the places in the world, it’s always been their dream to see me become a doctor. A rich, respectable profession, yes. Society approved.

They did, but, I suppose they never counted on me. Me not wanting to be a doctor, that is. A year ago or so, I was like, alright, Mom, Dad, if you want me to become a doctor, if it really means that much to you, then fine, I’ll become a doctor. For you. Even now, I think it was a noble thing to suggest, but at the same time, it was the most stupid thing I could’ve said. At the time I felt I’d never have the heart to tell them I didn’t want to be a doctor even though I probably won’t ever be happy as one, and, because I don’t love the profession with all my heart- what’s the point? I’d be a terrible one, most likely, too.

Then, something happened. I suppose I’m being vague here, but, let’s just leave it at that. And the very same day this thing happened, my mother said to me- yes, my mom herself- said to me that I should pursue whatever field it is I want to pursue, whether it be English, or otherwise. It was okay if I didn’t become a doctor. Now, if you’ve been reading carefully you’ll know how big this is. It’s massive. Needless to say, I’m, I’m, I’m… excited? Ah, that’s too tame a word, isn’t it, though? For now, it’ll do.

And thus, today I sat on my laptop for the first time, looking at universities, genuinely interested about where I want to go. It’s made me happier than anything else for quite a while. Even just thinking about it: U of T. NYU. Stanford. Berkeley. Any one will do, thank you very much.

Where to from here, though? Where to?

I challenge you to make your life a masterpiece. I challenge you to join the ranks of those people who live what they teach, who walk their talk.

-Tony Robbins

Fin.

#24: Waving This White Flag

Math,

I hate you. Nay, I despise you, nay, I loathe you! No synonym is complete enough for what I feel when I think of you, my most bitter foe. You, with your factorials, differentials, binomials and what not, are too much for me. I surrender.

I surrender. Yes, I’ve said it- twice. I shout it to the heavens! You’re too strong. Despite all I do, I can’t fathom even the slenderest sliver of your Grace. I flourish my white flag against the azure skies: you have won. Savour it.

Fin.*

*What dropping Math in A’ levels feels like.

#18: Yesterday

Don’t you miss yesterday? I do. A’ Levels is murder. I miss my O’ levels. The tests were easy, the hours were short, everyone was together, no one had to go away to some other school on the opposite side of town, no one had to enter another field and leave altogether. Sigh. Looking back, the last few years were probably the best years of my life so far. And the thing is, it still seems as if it was only yesterday that I was sitting in Grade 9 on the first day of O’ levels, meeting our Physics teacher for the first time. For some reason, that memory stands out among everything else that happened on that day.

I could never, for even a second, have imagined how amazing the next three years would turn out. It was such an experience. We, all of us, changed so much: some for the better, others not. As time passed, we became good friends, then best friends, confidants, and, eventually, inseparable. There were fights, sure, sadness, of course; you can’t bypass all that. But it makes you stronger, believe me. You know who your real friends are. But I wouldn’t say we’re friends. They come and go. We’re still whatever we are, only scattered around the world. And here’s to a reunion.

Fin.