Hello, new life. I kinda love you already.

When I was a kid, the afternoons used to be long. Mom and dad would return only in the evening, and I would have the whole day stretched before me. Of course, I didn’t know the value of all that time then, but I did have a few things I loved doing.

One of my favourite pastimes used to be pedaling my little yellow scooter back and forth in our porch when the cars were not parked inside. I would do it for hours. Making my tiny feet push against those pedals and go taka-taka-taka across the length of the corridor. I would think of many things then. Or maybe I didn’t. Sometimes I just hummed one of the latest Bollywood numbers.

Another thing I loved doing was plucking the ripe, green leaves off the Gulmohar tree outside our house, adding water on it, squishing it under a stone, and making chutney! I would sit on my favourite blue plastic chair (I’d know it was mine because it had a shiny Betty and Veronica sticker on it, right in the center), and I’d just keep grinding the poor leaves under an unfortunate stone and make a dangerous amount of chutney that no one in their right mind would ever even attempt to eat.

But one of my absolute favourite hobbies was to listen to Westlife, Backstreet Boys, and all the other popular ‘90s bands on my cheap Aiwa Walkman, and note each and every word they sang in my ‘Songs Diary!’ Then sing it over and over again, in front of the mirror, copying Britney Spears’ expressions.

Now when I think about that time, I can’t believe I’ve come this far since then. When I think of that version of myself, I can’t believe that was me. And yet, it was.

I am a working class professional in one of the best cities in India. The IT hub. The ‘Silicon Valley’. The city which has the good weather, the good jobs, the good places, the good culture. I have begun my fourth week at work. I’m learning new things, trying to absorb everything like a sponge. I have begun to almost love some of my co-workers, who are rapidly turning into good friends. A couple of them, one absolutely crazy, and one not-so-crazy, have been especially encouraging and helpful throughout. I cannot imagine office without them. It’s a cozy environment, not much different from a classroom, where you love everyone for their specific qualities and idiosyncrasies. I love having lunch with them, where everybody is random and where we can take a break from work and exchange a few jokes.

I went to I-Bar with some of them this Saturday, and we went bonkers dancing to all the Hindi songs we love to love, and the ones we love to hate. We danced so much, and for so long, I woke up the next day with sore muscles.

I even found a good PG to stay in, with a roommate, who is sweet enough to accompany me outside when I don’t feel like eating PG food, and who offers me alphonso mangoes she got from Bombay :) And this is just the beginning. I can’t believe it has only been 20 days. I feel like I’ve gone through a time warp in this time. A new city, new home, new friends, colleagues. To think about how nervous I was on my first day at in Bangalore. (Will I find a good place to stay? Will the work people like me? Will I be able to do what they ask me to do?) It’s almost amazing how smooth this transition has been, and how comfortable I’ve started feeling in this new skin. It is incredible to think how things just start falling into place one by one. In the beginning, I used to just tell myself, “Take it easy. One step at a time.” And now it seems like I’ve crossed quite a distance without even realizing it.

(View from my new balcony)

Today has been one of the best days here so far. I got up way before time, took a leisurely hot water bath, had breakfast, plugged in my earphones and played Queen’s OST (Man, Amit Trivedi!), and walked to the bus stop. I always smile seeing all these people around me walking hurriedly to catch their buses. I read the work tags hanging around their necks. Accenture, TCS, iGate, SAP. All these young people, in their prime, including me, just starting off with our lives, with our dreams. I feel so united with them. Crossing the road, though always a tricky business, was relatively smooth today. I barely waited for the bus for 5 minutes and even got a seat! Oh, the joy. Otherwise, on some days, the buses are packed, with you barely managing to stand in the teeniest spot you can find, jostling with the other women, trying to reach into your purse and managing to find exactly fourteen rupees without falling hard on your ass, or on the road (since sometimes you have to stand precariously close to the door).

I reached office way before time. I knew exactly what I had to do during the day, and I think I was having a good hair day! What more could you ask for? But wait, it gets better. My boss, who is supportive and very approachable, told me I am performing really well at work. My insides were inflating like a balloon, but I think I managed to say ‘thank you, sir’ very gracefully. He told me he thinks I have been working for a quite some time. Now THAT, is the perfect ending to the day. But right now, I have a lot to learn. A LOT. So, without focusing on the feedback much, I would just like to take baby steps, and improve every day. Bit by bit.

I feel so good writing after so long. Even though I worked for ten hours today and I am dead tired. A blog post was long, long due. Please excuse the disjointed post. I tried to contain the scattered thoughts into cohesive sentences. I have a lot more to share. And I will be back soon.

P.S. I still sing in front of my mirror acting like a big-time pop singer. Some things never change, do they? :)

Our time is running out

The concept of time is a funny one. We have divided our lives into seconds, minutes, hours, days. We count our age as the years pass us by. We desperately wish to never grow older than 30. We make time tables, calenders and five-year plans. We celebrate anniversaries, birthdays and silver jubilees. Sometimes we feel time whooshing past us, and sometimes it crawls like a snail.

Do we know any other species that does this? Animals never look at the time, or wear watches or make schedules. They never feel scared that their time on the planet is getting over. They never have to be 'on time' or get reprimanded for delaying anything. They simply live. They take one day at a time. And it is this timelessness that makes their lives richer than ours. They do not fear old age. Or deadlines. Or death. And this is one of the many reasons which defies the human belief that we are the most superior of all species. 

I'm coming back Lavale!

So another stint at home comes to an end. It’s funny how time just keeps on rolling and rolling like a ball of yarn going down a slope. No matter what happens, it just keeps on frickin’ rolling. My stay this time was all about spending quality time with my sister before she flies off to Singapore, watching Breaking Bad relentlessly all night, trying to edit videos and dealing with all sorts of technical stuff (I swear to god Premiere Pro is sucking the soul out of me. What’s with all these codecs and softwares and formats and pixels?! Urgh! ) and lots and lots of unhealthy food binges at night.

On an unrelated note, does anybody know how to get rid of tummy fat without going through those painful sit up exercises? I just gulped down two huge slices of cheese burst pizza WITH, mind you, WITH a big glass of coke. Why can’t the fat just spread out over my arms and legs instead of settling down in my stomach?

(The previous two lines were said with a lot of enunciation, gesticulations and tone changes. I wish I could say it out here.)

This is my last night at home where I don’t have to worry about the next day. And where I have uninterrupted internet access all night. Back at the hostel, mostly all fun sites get blocked at 2 AM, so you pretty much have to go and sleep. But I’m so looking forward to college. The monsoons are in full swing there, what with those erratic rain showers and the lush green valleys I so love. And the peacocks are dancing around and little chocolate frogs are going to muck about in the pools of water! Fun!

I’m also looking forward to meeting everyone after so long, listening to their internship experience, attending guest lectures again, complaining about the time table and the whole shebang. Home is nice, but it starts to get boring when you can’t complain about how busy you are and how you don’t have time for yourself anymore. Taking time out for yourself then, is the best time you can have.

Even though I worked quite a bit during my internship, most of the times I was pretty much in this state:

My supervisor wrote that I need to be more outgoing in my evaluation form. Me? Outgoing? How did that happen? I know the people at work were not the friendliest people in the world, but at one point of time I stopped trying. Completely. I need to break out of my shell. I really do!

I want to go back with an empty mind. I want to experiences things in a completely different way. I want to be a better person than I was last year. I want to learn and grow. I have a good feeling about going back. Yeah I just realized, I say that everytime, right? It’s like all my going-back-to-college posts sound the same. And once I’m there, all the positivity and enthusiasm jumps out the window in a matter of days. But no more! I’m seriously going to make the most of this year. I’ll take part in everything I can, be pro-active and build my portfolio. (Okay, one part of my brain is already shaking its head. Oh boo! There’s no space for negativity this time!)

Okay fine, without making any grandiose promises to myself, I’ll just do whatever I can in order to squeeze out every good thing this college can offer me. And I will do a night out. And I will play at least one sport. (Does dancing count? No? Okay aerobics?) And I will visit the awesome plateau place everyone keeps talking about. Most of all, I’ll be happy. I will, right? Yeah, I will. Will I? I will!

Goodbye till then!

P.S. My next post will be from up those spectacular hills. And I’ll be sitting next to my window which hopefully (fingers and toes and body crossed) will have the sensational view I want. And clouds will be floating in. And my new roommate will get me a cup of hot chocolate (too hopeful? Okay man I'll make it. I just want the hot chocolate in the picture. And maybe some Nutella) and we’ll share cookies together. And life will be goooooood :3

How fickle my head and how woozy my eyes

Yeah you guessed it from the title. Been listening to a lot of Mumford and Sons. I hate it when music makes too much sense sometimes. NO, I do NOT want to relate to every song and apply it to my life’s problems and dilemmas.

It seems like the world has started to move faster and I am only moving slower than ever. Assignments, colleges fests, competitions, they all just seem to whizz past me. There is this dull sense of foreboding, and a callous indifference to one and all. Interviews and group exercises for our junior batch are going on. I just stood looking at the aspirants, standing in their queues, anticipation and excitement flowing out of them. One year back I stood where they stand today, nervous and energetic and bubbly. Too bubbly, I suppose, talking to everyone like an overexcited little ferret. But I was in love with the campus, and every fibre of my body wanted to get admission into this college.

Where do I stand now? I have no idea. I’m nowhere. I’m suspended mid-air between a mountain and an abyss, between a rock and a hard place. Everything is blurry. I’m not even the same person anymore. I’ve gained a lot, but I’ve lost so much more in the process. I’m wandering aimlessly, and I do not know if I would be found. I do not know if I even want to be found. It's such a sad age to live in when it's Facebook that asks you 'How are you feeling, Astha?' I honestly hadn't imagined life to take this turn. 

Moving on to less despondent topics, I would like to share our college news website with you people, where my aspiring Journalism friends and I write regularly. Do visit it? Here's the link: http://simc-wire.com/

Also read my recent article, the direct link to which is---> this.

Do read it and give me your comments! Here, or there itself.

I guess accomplishing little tasks is the only thing keeping me sane. Other than the dangerously increasing frequent cups of hot coffee, my journal which has finally resurrected, my blanket under which I can dissolve and shut out the world, and my blog, which has withstood catastrophes and whirlwinds, and traumas and disasters. And it still stands, through it all. I guess there are some things in life which manage to remain consistent, after all. 

Sigh.

22

“So, this is my life. And I want you to know that I am both happy and sad and I'm still trying to figure out how could that be.”

The quote is from the movie The Perks of being a Wallflower, and I can relate to it so well right now. I LOVED the movie. Before I watched it, it seemed to be like a regular high school movie, except that it wasn’t. And it has a beautiful soundtrack. I’ve been listening to Heroes by David Bowie since I saw it (‘The Tunnel song’) and my head is swimming with so many thoughts.

I am 22. I’ve always wanted to be 22 since I was a kid. 22 always felt like the most fun age. The ideal age. Not only is 22 my second favourite number, but this is where I always wanted to be! This. Right here. It is like a big cross I had made on the map of my life and I am standing right on top of it. But I realized I had forgotten all about it. I find myself so busy lamenting over my past or worrying about my future that I end up feeling really morbid all the time. I am 22 and I feel like sleeping for a thousand years. I feel like not being aware of the fact that I exist for a while. Till it all gets better. How did it all become so haywire? What happened to my ‘living in the moment’ plan? What happened to all my plans in fact? Wait, did I even have any plans?

Recently one of my most admired teachers randomly walked up to me and said “You’re not alright in life, are you? You’ve lost the twinkle in your eyes. I know something is wrong.” And I was speechless. She had noticed? Is it that apparent? And since then I have been questioning myself. Why? How? I am only 22! I’m still in the phase of my life where I can fix things for myself. I should be able to get over stuff. I need to admit it that I am human, and I am stupid and that I hurt people. And I need to learn from that. I need to grow. I need to accept the fact that I will not get over some people I have lost, and just live with it.

There is a dialogue in the movie “I know we'll all become somebody, we'll all become old photographs and we'll all become somebody's mom and dad. Right now these moments are not stories, this is happening. I'm here.”

It just made me think. It’s okay that some plans didn’t work out. It’s okay that life took a completely unexpected turn. Things happen for a reason. And in the end everything somehow turns okay. Even if right now it feels like life will never ever get any better, come on, it has to. Life still is beautiful, with endless possibilities spread out before you. It is exciting. You don’t know what is going to happen. You don’t know who or where you are going to be. This is really the time to make it all happen. We cannot choose where we came from, but we can choose where we go from here, right?

It’s not too late for anything. I need to find my way. I need to step up to things. Accept my mistakes. Move past them. Maybe life has a different plan. There is another world. A better world, waiting for me. There has to be. And what will I do? I will keep all the memories deep inside me, close to me. I will just embrace life, and walk towards it. That’s my plan, for now.

“The scent of a flower,

The colours of the morning,

Friends to believe in,

Tears soon forgotten,

See how the rain drives away, another day.”

                                                                            --Dusk, by the Genesis

Mind over matter

You know what?

The mind is a vile, corrosive, self-destructive time bomb just waiting to lead you head-on to your doom. It fills your head with despicable thoughts, it makes you stay awake all night thinking of all the abysmal things you have done and are doing in life, in compels you to lie in a foetal position all day watching mindless, borderline funny sitcoms huddled up inside your blanket like a cat, and it makes you gulp down cups of coffee hoping it might put some energy into your system.

 You know what else it does?

It secretes all the wrong hormones at all the wrong times; it makes you stare at a million open tabs on your screen without making you do any sort of work; it makes you want to cry out loud for the sheer impossibility of the situation it has put you into; it makes you feel like the days are long, but secretly the evil thing makes the time seem to move faster than ever. Why we had to be the ‘superior’ species with more intelligence than all the other animals, I fail to understand. I would rather be frolicking about naked in a jungle hunting for food, scratching my head, infested with termites and fleas with predators lurking around me than be in this situation. Or you know what? Maybe we are not as intelligent as we think we are. Seriously, is any one of us completely happy in this concrete, swarming, claustrophobic, noisy, blood-thirsty, stinking world we have created around us? A quote by Douglas Adams comes to mind at this juncture:

“On the planet Earth, man had always assumed that he was more intelligent than dolphins because he had achieved so much—the wheel, New York, wars and so on—whilst all the dolphins had ever done was muck about in the water having a good time. But conversely, the dolphins had always believed that they were far more intelligent than man—for precisely the same reasons.”

Let’s get back to the vicious little thing the mind is.

It makes you write down pretentious text-book words like ‘juncture’ that you had learnt in high school; it makes you over-analyze things so much that you end up taking the wrong decisions; it makes your very survival on this planet seem almost impossible; it makes you want to scream, and say horrible things to people, and screw your life over. It makes you cry. Oh my dear GOD how it makes you cry.

Rock, paper, scissors. If only it was that simple. If only there was a Backspace button. If only people had a better control over the devil that resides inside their skulls. It also plays tricks on you. As a friend put it, it makes you feel “confused, angry, dejected, randomly optimistic and happy, then suddenly completely blah and fucked in the head a few minutes later”. It makes you go back in time and repeat scenarios differently over and over in your head till you feel you’d go insane. It has the potential to make every situation, every face, every song seem hollow. It is the one that makes you write such optimistic blog posts at 6:45 in the morning when your sleep-deprived body screams for some sleep.

And then it has the nerve to slyly sneak up on your shoulder and whisper “You got what you wanted. Are you happy now?”

Dilli diaries: Part III

This is the first time in five months that I’m sitting on my own bed, I’m sleeping in my fluffy blanket, and the first thing I see when I get up is my purple wall. I’M HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOME! Coming home after staying at another place is quite indescribable, and only the person who actually experiences it knows what it feels like. When I sit in my room now, it’s like I had never left home at all! Like the five months in college never happened! And yet at the same time, it feels so different.

I still remember how I felt a few days before I left home, the apprehension, the excitement, the hollow pit in my stomach. Now I feel like I’m not the same person anymore. So much has changed since the last time I was here. So much. And yet, all these little reminders in my room tell me that I’m still the same person, and perhaps will always be. Talking to mummy is still refreshing, making tea in the kitchen feels so warm and homely, uninterrupted internet connection is bliss, waking up to the reassuring hum of the washing machine and going through all my old books and diaries. Sigh, it’s brilliant to be home. I needed this.

Delhi was absolutely wonderful to me. And because Diwali is around the corner, it was gorgeous and exciting. I turned 22. Yes, it hurts to say that. I had JUST turned 21, and I wasn’t even over the shock when BAM! I turned another year older :/ I just wish I could stay 22 for another five years, and then move on. Time just whizzes by, it’s crazy!  Anyway, you always have people around you who make you feel so special on your birthday that it all seems worth it. People who gift you amazing, thoughtful books, and people who write poems for you, and people who get you toffee eclairs cake, and people who take you out on a drive on the highway and you can just sit on the window of the car and scream like a banshee against the wind. Also, people who make you have something so amazing as a Banoffee pie. Mmm!

I miss Delhi now. I miss travelling in the metro, counting the stations, standing till my legs felt like they would fall out. And I miss the brilliantly lit up Select City Walk with its fountains, and music and having warm chocolate donuts sitting in the chilly winter breeze. I miss working for the NGO, Vidya, and the little kids with the big sparkling eyes and the innocent grins. I miss walking on the roads, in the malls, I miss how there were always so many places to go to, and so many things to do. I miss the vibrant, shining, shimmering city. I really wish I get to visit it again soon.

For now, I think I’ll get back in my fluffy blanket again.

“If I lay here,

If I just lay here,

Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Let’s waste time,

Chasing cars, in our heads.”

Dilli Diaries: Part II

"Ambar pe milte hain kadmon ke nishaan, tere hi har shaam,
Khidki pe likhe koi os ki boondon se, tera naam."

I cannot explain why this song makes me feel the way I feel when I listen to it. It brings back a lot of memories, and stirs emotions which I am always trying to hide.

It's the magic of music, I guess.

My blood test results are out, and turns out, I only had the sniffles, and not dengue. So I won't die. Yay? Yay.

Delhi is beautifully silent tonight. I'm so going to sleep. 

Let go

Days are just passing by. You’ve hardly opened your eyes and it’s time to close them again. I’m thoroughly enjoying the classes and I’m bonding well with my batchmates. Touchwood.  The discussions we have and the documentaries/films that we are shown have deeply moved me. I have felt the change coming within me, frothing and bubbling underneath. I saw a dream which was related to a documentary we saw about the Hindu Muslim Gujarat riots which disturbed me to such an extent that I couldn’t move out of bed for a long time. But it’s good. I want to be disturbed. I want to know what’s happening in the world. I look forward to the next two years' worth of knowledge that is going to be shared with us.

It’s surprising how much you can accomplish on some days, and on other days you hardly move a muscle. And how both of them can be equally fulfilling. There’s always this electricity running around this place, people running around, people with a purpose, participating, competing, all of them striving to achieve the little somethings in their everyday lives. All of them talking, speaking, shouting over the babble, trying to stand out, to find their identities, to get noticed. I think it’s great, and it gives me inspiration. But sometimes, as I’m walking along on the road leading from our classrooms to our hostels, and I look at the green hills on my left and the lush valleys on my right, and the endless cloudy sky above, I feel like slowing down. I feel like receding, like being silent, like not being noticed at all. Like, being invisible.

It is a scary thought sometimes, when you think about where you stand amongst the thousands of students studying in the same college as you, getting the same opportunities as you, doing the same things as you, eating the same food as you. I sometimes panic at the thought of you being a small unit in such a huge college, and your college being a unit in the city, the city being only a part of the world. And then we know how limitless the universe is. It makes you feel how puny and insignificant you really are. You’re just a speck. And what are you doing? Striving, surviving, trying to find happiness in relationships and learning ways to earn enough money to have a family. Sometimes when I think about all this, it seems very absurd and meaningless to me. Then I feel like letting go of everything, and going on a long soul-searching trip. Yeah right.

Anyway, I’ve decided not to think about it much and immerse myself into the innumerable activities here and grow as a person. So that when I pass out of here, I pass out as a better and wiser individual.

I’m sharing a video my friend made here. It sums up our first month at SIMC in the best way possible. Yes, I do feature in it and no, I didn’t know she was recording when I was, ahem, doing the things I’m doing in it.

Here it is: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W_DJx7hS8qI&feature=youtu.be

Enjoy and cheers :)

We can't return, we can only look behind

I’m so happy today. I’m just so happy. Maybe because Chee shared this article with me and I realized how much it resonated with how I’ve been feeling lately but haven’t been able to put into words. I haven’t even comprehended how much I love the campus and the weather here. I was just existing, floating from hostel to mess and mess to classroom and back to hostel. One month went by in a blur. I still haven’t gotten over the fact that I live on a hill and amidst hills and it’s always breezy and green and rainy.

I’ve been singing ‘The Circle Game’ by Joni Mitchell since evening. Please go and listen to it?

After dinner I spent my time with friends and soaked it in. Took it all in. I want to make the most of my time here. I want to know people. Make friends. Have crazy times. Difficult times. Go out. Travel (especially to Bombay) Write. Laugh. Live. I never realized before today how many possibilities exist now that I’ve moved out of home. I can do anything. Walk wherever I want to, always be surrounded by so many friends, go out and eat with them, take on individual projects with them. Almost anything I want to! I felt so full of life and love today. I felt so alive. And the breeze and the little raindrops added on to the effect. Music was wafting through the air, emanating from different corners of the campus. People were laughing, singing, dancing, bonding. I looked at the campus and at the sky and just felt lucky to be where I am. I love college. Room 221. The trees. The frogs. The constant chatter. The familiar faces. The smiles. The midnight birthday celebrations. The noise in the mess. The cold coffee. Sparks flying in the air. The conversations that flow. The friendships that bloom. Even the bad jokes. And it has all just begun.

I want to be so much more than what I am. 

Tonight I choose to be sad

For all the relationships gone wrong; for all the misunderstandings; for all the broken promises and the failed friendships; for all the things that were never meant to be. For all the times I should have kept in touch but didn’t, all the times I should have called but didn’t and for all the plans that were never implemented. What idiots we all were. We never realized that things change. We never did think where we would be in the ignorance of being happy little kids. When we walked holding hands and snuck our little MP3 players in our pockets, earplugs in each ear, listening to our favourite songs, and when we lay in bed dreaming about the future and when we promised each other that our kids will marry each other. When we walked like old ladies in school, and skipped down staircases, when we wrote stories in college notebooks, when we made French toasts at night. 

How naïve we all are. Don’t we know things never remain the same? We sang songs and shared tiffin boxes and shared secrets and poured our hearts out to each other. We thought we would always be best friends, sharing each secret and each incident till we become old and wrinkly. We ran towards each other like lost lovers after a war, squealing and jumping. We talked on the phone for hours and plotted and planned and schemed. We made fun of people, and of each other. We laughed till tears spilled out of our eyes. We loved each other. How stupid were we. We should have known.

Times change. People drift apart. Maybe the only thing that changes is you yourself. Or your own perception about things. And it is okay if it is circumstantial. It is okay to let things go, because it is more painful to hold on to them. If it gave you enough warmth and love and joy to help you survive when you thought you could not cope with your life, then it was worth it all. Every relationship I have ever had has been special to me. I can relate to what Celine says in Before Sunset, “I feel I was never able to forget anyone I've been with. Because each person has specific qualities. You can never replace anyone. What is lost is lost.”

I miss the little things about people. I miss insignificant things about them, maybe the way they made a weird sound with their lips or maybe how they squinted in the sun or even the colour of their eyes.

Such silly little children we were when we painted bindis on each other's foreheads and laughed. When we made midnight meals and ate more than we studied. When we got Linkin Park trivia for each other or said that we were soul sisters. Little did we know that relationships are fragile. One slip, and down the rabbit hole they go. So I’m embracing the pain that comes along with losing friends. Morrie said that in order to detach yourself from a feeling, you have to drench yourself with it, dive head in all the way and throw yourself into the emotion instead of holding it back and being afraid of experiencing love or pain or grief. Because once you know you have fully experienced the emotion, you can tell yourself to get away from it. And finally move on.

So this is to all the friends I have ever had. I have never been good at keeping friends but the friends that did matter; I have loved them with all my heart had to give. KK has already put what I'm feeling into a song:


"Chal, sochein kya, choti si hai zindagi.
Kal, mil jaayein, toh hogi khushnaseebi."


So, now, as I move out and go into another world, I would like to express that each one of you were a part of my life. You've all had a role to play and you’ve all shaped me into what I am. I will carry little pieces of you in my heart, recalling only the good times. Times when we were stupid little idiots, without a care in the world. 

P.S. And maybe, just maybe, sit on a sofa again before a Maths exam, staring into space, bobbing our heads to a random song after having eaten a million packets of Blue Lay's.

The Teacher

Reading Tuesdays with Morrie has compelled me to go back into the old, school memories and think about one of the most influential people in my life. I still remember the burnt black marks on his hands. I noticed them first when I went to talk to him about my science project and I saw him closely for the first time. It was 9th grade. He had very dark, rugged skin, a thick black moustache, a deep, gruff voice, and a very serious expression on his face almost all the time. If it weren’t for his black, beady, affectionate eyes and his dimple, he would have been very unpleasant to look at. But he was not. He carried himself very well, was always well dressed, and every time he smiled, though seldom it used to be, his entire face used to light up, including his eyes. He was my Maths and Physics teacher.

 He believed in not only teaching us the subject and performing his duty; he used to make sure we really understood it. Every Monday and Friday we used to have Value Education classes. I never liked them, because before he started teaching us, Value Education classes were nothing but reading stories from Moral Science books and learning life lessons. But life’s lessons are not meant to be learnt off a book. I remember the first class with him. He taught us about the importance of behaving properly, dressing properly, and having manners. He gave examples from his own life, and I was so absorbed into his lecture, I never came to know when the class got over. At the end of the class, he asked us to dress neatly. Of course, I was a slob, and I conveniently forgot all about it. The next class, he checked everybody’s shoes, socks, clothes, ribbon, nails etc. He looked at my socks. They were dirty, their elastic had become useless and they fell all the way down to my ankles. He looked at me and said, “Have you seen the state of your socks?” I looked down, embarrassed.

He then explained to us, that when we dress neatly, it is not only for us, it is for the others. "If you go to someone’s place dressed shabbily, you are insulting them. You are saying you don’t care enough to appear clean and tidy. You simply don’t care."

And that was it. I had never thought about it like that. Since then, there was a considerable improvement in the way I started dressing myself up. He also taught us the right body language; he taught us compassion, humility, and punctuality. I began to love his classes and always looked forward to them. He also made a box where he asked us to write our suggestions of topics that we would like to discuss with him. And we wrote, oh, how much I wrote. We talked about relationships, God, spirituality, death, money, education, family, career, life, teenage confusions and a whole lot of other things. I never missed a single class. Every class used to leave me pondering, and compelled me to write about it in my journal. He used to solve our fights and conflicts patiently, like a counselor. He just had a way with words, if you know what I mean.

Though, I often wondered about those marks on his hands.

Years passed, and his classes were over. We moved to the 11^th standard and apparently, Value Education classes are not as important when girls turn 17. All the while, I never got enough guts to talk to him about something on a personal level. Although I really wanted to. I was a good student, did all my work on time, but never did I follow him any day after class to just talk to him. Or to tell him about my feelings about his classes. I should have. Really should have. I learnt many life’s lessons in that classroom; I became a better, more empathetic human being. I learnt how to be selfless and kind. How to believe in something. How to improve as a performer, and as a person. And I owed that much to him.

Finally, one day I got to know he was being transferred to another school. It was his farewell party in a week. I couldn’t believe it. Immediately, I got some handmade paper and made a card for him. A flowing river, with a lone figure walking on a bridge over it. Underneath it I wrote, “Whenever there will be trouble, your wisdom is going to help me through.”

It sounds stupid right now, and maybe a little too much. Inside I wrote everything I wanted to say to him, everything his classes meant to me, and how much I learnt from them and cherished them. Before he left, we all stood around him, holding flowers and banners. He came up to me, looked at me with those black, beady eyes and said “It feels good to know my classes helped at least one student. It means a lot, thank you.” And then he just left. Forever. And I still continued to wear clean socks.

After reading Morrie, I became sad. I wondered where sir would be, how he would be. And then it hit me! Hey, we’re not living in the ‘70s anymore. I Facebooked him! Yes, he was there! He currently lives in Ontario, Canada! He still looks the same :) At once, I sent him a friend request.

I hope he remembers me :)

I still often wonder about those scars though.

Suspended

I sit back in silence and watch the particles of dust sparkling and swirling in the ray of sunlight entering through my window. Meandering aimlessly, suspended in the air, as if not being able to make their mind up.. looking for answers, fighting with themselves. I look at them, transfixed, trying to find the answers to my own questions. I try to dig deep within my soul. What do I want? What do the others want from me? Strangely though, the only thing that comes to mind is.. nothingness. A strange, hollow, uncomfortable feeling which makes you numb. It makes you feel like the world is moving around you, while you are stuck. You are stuck into infinity, and waiting for some kind of emotion to engulf you. What if, right now, right this moment, the world comes to an end? Would anything matter anymore? Absurd though it may sound, the idea doesn't particularly horrify me.