In the past 2 years, a lot happened, that altered my perception and convictions in a way, that my whole life taken together couldnt have measured up to.
On one hand.. it has been beautiful, learning to trust again, finding my way back into Faith. . spending days of peace and happy adventure with sire, my very own royal charm.
And on the other hand, its been a living hell of painful hospital trips; learning-losing-learning-losing-patience with a bunch of strange, close-minded, orthodox, prickly, slave-driving, moronic people from the dark ages with bad-attitude; and morbid (mainly, academic) frustration.
I do understand it all began with my own choice of taking up this course. Dad had asked me (several times) to apply for higher learning in literature; despite my parents cribbing always that they dont understand me, they did understand afterall. . and well enough to know my area of (enormous love and) interest. . . but instead of listening to him (and to my better side of the brain) and applying at oxford, i came here, hugely wasted his savings, learned barely anything, earned a name in my (current) professors’ bad books, rebelled enough to earn an ER, acquired PD, oh and now pretty damn tired of all the confusion in my head. Just about every other day, sire inspires me so well.. and so good of him to help me out every way he can. . and i think, oh yes ! i can do it ! and i guess i eventually, probably will. . but being human, i do miss the life i nearly missed. i spend sleepless nights, and then zombied days wondering about when i’ll get a (proper) job, how long until then, what then, what if the professors avenge their grudges in the final trimester papers, what if sire were better off academically without me, future financial worry, old friends who’re professionally scooting fast ahead past me. sometimes a thought crosses my mind about, “what if!” . . i could go back to 2007, and undo some things, and instead of brooding over wasted friendships and virtual arseholes, would’ve studied ! and not failed the CAT. . (oh) some days, it kills me worse, to realize that in all the rush of the last year of college, i did jump into the potential trap-trench of MBA, following the mass exodus of all my friends who happily chose to dive in . . and are perhaps (hopefully, good for them) are rolling in pots of money as they hoped they would. . maybe they didnt after all sell their souls. I pretty much crib here every waking moment cause somehow i know sire and i cant live a day without our soul and heart in lieu with our mind… and we dream. atleast i do. still do. perhaps, i will always do. . that we will know happiness every morning while going to work. and we will know happiness every night when we return home to love.
but then after this whole roll of flashback and “what if” i think, its good enough. like sire says, “we would know when we connect the dots in future.” And then it strikes me already why i came here. And so far (for always) the best reason would be sire himself.
“And indeed there will be time
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate;
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions.
There will be time, there will be time
Time for you and time for me. . .”
- TS ELIOT
(Credits to weasel, for waking me up this morning to dear ol’ Mr Eliot)
