Flawed.

Semester wise epiphanies seem to be becoming more of a trend for me. I spend an entire week having vague and varied revelations about everything from Donald Duck’s pant-less existence to the presence of an excessive amount of green in my room. But overanalyse I do, and the end result is a long, endless rant, and sharp evidence of little or no progress in the studying area.

I have come to the recent conclusion that University life is all about mistakes. I’m pretty sure that I did not make even ONE correct, useful, right decision in the last three semesters. I’m not saying that I regret all of it. But wise choices have failed me ever since I first stepped into my dorm room last year.

Maybe that’s the point of college. If you make all the right decisions... well, perfection, unflawed as it is, has no scope for inadequacy of any sort. And with no imperfection, all that you have to look back on are boundless green pastures of happiness- which sounds like a good thing, but let's say that I've been there, done that- and truthfully, these green pastures can get boring. Besides, they don’t last forever, and sooner or later the storm comes. But, however scary the storm may be, when you live through it and look back at it, more than the noise, more than all the thunder and lightning and cold, you see yourself surviving. Most importantly, you see the rainbow after it’s passed.

I don’t intend to sound preachy with this, but what I’m trying to say is- make mistakes. Make lots of them, and don’t be scared to make a single one of them. It’s alright to make stupid decisions, and sometimes being embarrassed isn’t such a bad thing- even if your Diwali outfit makes you look like an oversized pumpkin with a dark blob for a face, and makes you feel big enough for Cinderella to ride home in after her magical night; even if you spend three hours enjoying the latest Harry Potter film on the cusp of a week of tests; even if you write five-hundred words of confusion right before your exams.

Give yourself a chance to trip and fall- metaphorically, of course. You don't want to end up with four pairs of torn jeans like I have. But that's another story.

And it's that time of the Semester again.

Somehow, exams always inspire me to write. Or maybe it's just my way of doing anything but studying. After last semester, I realized that I simply cannot afford to get stressed, because honestly, in the next four years, I would be going through Semester exams seven more times. If I lost my cool each time, the world would be left with a dying lady by the time I graduated.

Exam time in NTU is quite an affair. Everyone finds their "study spot", gets comfortable, and in less than a span of a week, make this spot their home. Students have a wide choice range - any place in the Spines, the umpteen reading rooms, or a random toilet. From toothbrush to extra underwear, soon, this spot has got it all.

However, not all students are open to this concept. Some of the less nomadic people decide that they do, in fact, need a bed to sleep on. This set of students are the Library People. A band of strong, valiant students who brave the long walk from the library to their rooms every night. Some fight for place in the Quiet Zone, despite the rather large, and slightly scary security guard who seems to assume that dropping a pen makes a thousand-decibel noise.

But, truly, after a few days, even the Library People get incredibly attached to their new homes. Personally, in the last few weeks, there seems to be nothing that I haven't done in the library. From watching episodes of FRIENDS ( laughter therapy, in my defense. To de-stress, see.), to giving out a high-pitched scream when poked in the back by a random passer-by (okay, not so random), I seem to have done it all.

Study sessions with fellow sufferers are quite amusing. The latest gossip is dutifully discussed, with "Oh my", and "Really?", being the most used punctuation. Lists are made: post-exam fun, inheritance lists (if the exams kill us), and back-up lists (with so much to study, we may never have time to meet The One). Facebook stalking becomes an hourly activity, and chocolate becomes a necessity.

And when we're not freezing in the ice-box that is the library, the benches outside are our refuge. Soulless and depressing as they are, the Library People aren't called brave for nothing.

So, I sign off, with frozen feet (the Hall 15 reading room has the ability to freeze anyone who dares to walk in), and a dead brain.

Nothing Changes

What difference does anything make if you can't change what you want to change about yourself, about the world? Care strongly for something crucial, something life-changing, or be fascinated by the trivialities of the world. It doesn't matter. You can silently live in this world of consumerism and materialism and nothing will be any different from living away from all the superficiality.
Maybe conformity is the only way.

Hope, and some sea water.

She stood there and thought back - from where she had been then, to where she was now. Two years ago, she had stood at the same shore, heard the same waves lap fervently, and gazed at the same horizon.

Again, she was thinking of how so much had changed in such a short span of time. Maybe change really was the only constant thing in this world. Maybe destiny existed, and everything was just meant to be. She would never know- and though she did care, it didn't bother her much. No amount of analyzing would change anything, for better or for worse.

It was getting cold, the evening was progressing. But she had no intention of leaving her spot. She felt rooted to the ground. Somehow, it wasn't the helpless feeling that she had the last time she was here. Somehow, as she felt the cold breeze blowing her hair into her face, she felt hope. She felt at peace with herself, with the world. She felt that she had learnt so much, and had slowly, maybe even painfully, learnt that the only way to live was by accepting life as it comes.

Perfection is impossible to achieve, and inner demons are hard to kill. Last time, she was discontent. She wanted more, wanted her past back. She closed her eyes, and tried listening to the world. Now she knew for sure that she would never want the last two years, or in fact, any part of the last many, to be taken away from her - there had been struggles, there had been giving up. But nothing could teach her those same, hard lessons.

She had no regrets. Standing there that night felt so right. The place brought back so many memories, some sad, some happy. As before, she was lost in the moments that had passed, so long ago. But this time, the memories made her happy. Instead of feeling a loss for what was, what would never be again, she felt a strange happiness that, at least, they had once been, these things had once happened - such wonderful, beautiful things, at this very place, with the people she had loved but lost.

She opened her eyes and looked at the vast expanse of ocean. There was so much to look forward to, and it was only just beginning.

Fragile Things

Sometimes, the fragility of this world scares me. In his book, Fragile Things, Neil Gaiman says, “People break so easily, and so do dreams and hearts.” This one line had me stunned for hours, not because of anything but the truth behind this simple statement. I look around, and there are days when everything confuses me. Why is the world made this way? Happiness, sorrow, it all seems so variable, so very fragile. Is there anything that’s constant, and most importantly, is there such a thing as true happiness? Is it really this hard to find a place where we truly belong?

I have always thought that people who have layers to themselves, depth of a different sort, are the ones who lead the most complicated lives. But recently, I was proven otherwise, only to realize that truly, we complicate our own lives, irrespective of what kind of people we are, irrespective of the various layers we may or may not possess.

The world is made in odd ways. We all let differences take over us; we remain biased no matter how much we have been exposed to, no matter how much of life we have seen. Most of the time, I feel that we might spend our whole lives trying to understand the workings of the world, the minds of people, and still fail miserably at it.

I remember having some wild, crazy dreams as a child. I was so sure I’d end up doing something revolutionary, out of the ordinary. There was so much in life that I was passionate about, and I was eager to turn this passion into something real. But, I think somewhere along the way, things drastically changed. Reality sunk in, and reality is the most complex thing I have ever come across. Issues like world peace and global warming still affect me greatly, but I know for a fact that as a kid, despite knowing much less than I do now, I felt more for these things than I probably ever shall in the future.

But life can’t just be about wasted hours and broken dreams. There has to be a deeper, better meaning to everything that we do, and more importantly, everything that we want to do.

We all dream of touching people; of not only changing our own lives, but also changing the lives of others, in some small way or the other. It's definitely not as easy as it sounds - not all of us can give memorable speeches like Martin Luther King, or selflessly help people like Mother Teresa. But no one said that we have to do something drastic - a small thought or gesture to the people we love most can mean so much, and can mark itself down in history in a smaller, but equally important way.

I think one of the hardest things in the world is regret. Personally, I don’t think that I’ve seen enough of life to fully understand what it is to deeply regret something. But recently, after watching a Swedish film, Wild Strawberries, I understood that it is never too late to undo the things you regret- your whole life may have rushed past you, and you may feel like it's too late to change your life, but the truth is, it's never too late to change yourself.

I guess this post is just a compilation of my thoughts and feelings, these past few weeks. All I’m trying to say is stop and look around once in a while. Try and understand the things around you. It’s a hard, almost impossible task, but every bit effort and thought that goes into it is worth it, because whether you find your answers or not, the feeling of trying is the most satisfying thing ever.