It’s dark when I wake up. There’s no way to tell if it’s 1 a.m. or 3 a.m. or the end of the world. I fumble around for my phone and it says 4 a.m. The bright light irritates my eyes, but I’m happy, for two reasons. One, I still have an hour to sleep. Two, it’s not the end of the world. Because I don’t want the world to end right now; not when my resumé would say “Richa, ate some chocolate, took bad selfies, prepared for JEE. The end.”
With a sigh of relief, I fall back into the bed. My last thought is that if there is such a thing as heaven on earth, it’s the moment when you discover there’s time for a little more sleep.
As usual, I think these thoughts on the way to college (or school, if you prefer): (1) I should have slept earlier; (2) The education system stinks; (3) Someone needs to change it; (4) Kids’ dreams are being crushed every second, so someone needs to change it asap; (5) I haven’t read a book for so long that I can feel my brain growling in hunger. Don’t you dare tell me D.C. Pandey is a good substitute for Jane Austen. That’s like saying Kachcha Mango Bite is a good substitute for dark chocolate; (6) Forget change, the system needs a revolution; (7) This is a rat race, and I’m a rat. I don’t want to be a rat when I can be an eagle, or a mermaid, or a unicorn; (8) Unicorn! That would be so cool!
As I walk in at the gate, the real me silently leaves my body, and another version takes its place. I don’t like this other version. It doesn’t feel right somehow. It thinks of math problems not as challenges that stimulate the mind, but as four marks in the Mains. It looks at ideas and sees “topics”, looks at people and sees the last test’s ranks. But this version finds it easier to let it slide when an English teacher makes a mistake so gross that it’s half revolting and half hilarious. When Maya Angelou is reduced to some lady who wrote some poem that will definitely come in the board exam. When people look at me and see my last test’s rank. Everyone I see probably has these soul-sucked versions of themselves activated. My reverie is broken by “You! Pink shirt. Which hydrogen atom is replaced by the nucleophile?”
What I say is, “Para position.” What I think is, “Which past sin made karma throw me headfirst into a pile of organic chemistry?” The word ‘organic’ is ruined for me forever.
Unreal sights
A bell rings and everyone starts shifting in their seats. If telekinesis were real, the teacher would be on Mars. But it isn’t real, and we have to content ourselves with giving him significant looks which he effortlessly ignores. After fifteen minutes, he leaves. I turn away from the frightening sight of a guy propping up a textbook against his dabba and consuming both food and H.C. Verma gyaan at the same time, and focus on trying to remember what I used to do when I didn’t have to study so much and what multi-tasker guy’s rank was last Thursday. Sometimes both versions go to war inside me. Forget the quintessential fight between good and evil, the two cartoons talking in turns over my head. The new fight is between Soul Sucked and High on Idealism.
But I’m not a condescending smart soul making condescending jokes all the time. Most of the time I’m scared. This is the serious part now. What if I fail at this? What if every hope everyone has ever had for me is dashed to the ground and buried by my laziness? What if that girl gets a better rank than me? What if she doesn’t? If I think I’m too good for this rat race, why do I care anyway? Why am I even here? But that’s the thing. Just because I know better doesn’t mean I can make it better. Do I want this system in place 20 years from now? No. Do I accept the fact that this is the way it is right now, and that nothing I say will change it? Yes. Problem solved – I become a rat, run the race, hope for the best.
There’s a reason this place has almost no windows. No sunlight streaming in, no dust particles suspended in the air made golden, no cool breeze making the air new once in a while. Just tube-lights and air-conditioners and unsmiling faces. This is where the soul-sucked version thrives. When you see some nature you can’t help but feel that there’s more to ideas than their utility in problem-solving and more to people than their worth as a competitor.
The two years
Just two years, they tell you. Work hard and your life is made. Pour your heart into it and don’t look anywhere else and you’ll be fine. So I made the deal. I still worry, however, if I will still be the same person I was, or if somehow that other version just won’t leave. Dump targets, will I still have dreams? At the end of it, will I still believe that someday I’m going to write a book that the world will read? That I will travel the world, make faraway lands home and make complete strangers my dearest friends? That ideas exist for their own sake, and that every person I meet is an incredible entity full of fresh feelings, perspectives and experiences?
Fortunately, I find that I do. But for those two years, I wasn’t so sure I would. I did learn some stuff though. One is that there’s no substitute for hard work. That’s it. Just got to accept that. Another is that you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. I shouldn’t form a lasting opinion of a person based on the first impression they made on my conditioned, prejudiced, flawed, human self. People will surprise you – do yourself a favour, let them. A third one is that the system needs a revolution, yes, but it’s no use complaining and ranting when I’m a part of it already. It just makes more sense to make the best of what I have. Once I’m through, I can try to make all the change I can. If you have to do something, might as well do one hell of a job at it. One other lesson is that no matter how sure I am that four hours is enough sleep, I should go to bed when I still have six ahead of me.
Relief
The two years are over, and they’ll never be back. Oh, no, there’s nothing bittersweet about their memory. Nothing I miss even though I hated it at the time. I knew I would be relieved and nothing else, and I am relieved and nothing else. The soul-sucked version is gone now; it left the moment I clicked “submit” on the last examiation. I’m glad. But I’m also glad for the experience. It was something new, something challenging. I look forward to the future.
Now is the time to make a real difference to the world, to live outside of myself and find something to cherish every single day.
The world is your oyster. Make a lemonade. The sky is the limit. Keep dreaming!
So, now that the rat days are over for some time, I can go back to being a human. I still think being a unicorn would be pretty cool, though.
richakulkarni.98@gmail.com
