I'm back in Bangalore for my last ever term in college. I checked my timetable today and even with a compulsory course eight hours a week, I have two days off, two days when I have two hours of class from 4 p.m. to 6 p.m. and three other days when the earliest I have to make it in to class is 11.20 a.m.
And yet, somehow, the promised land of fifth year, third trimester seems utterly pointless.
I received a message from a friend two nights ago that talked about a foreboding, an impending sense of doom. And though, as usual, I did the best I could to assuage fears, a very soft but decisive voice in my head told me I was making it all up.
I can hear construction motors smoothing over the new floor tiles in the hostel, I can feel the tubelight above my head flickering in disappointment and I look out my window into the other hostel and find two rooms with lights on and nobody home.
That last bit is exactly how I feel right now.
I'm not sure if there's a point to this story but I'm going to tell it again.
- Eashan Ghosh
- India
- I've been wilfully caught up in the self-defeating quest to get to know myself for years. I've never expected anything beneficial to result from such a quest. I tend to evoke extremely polarised reactions from people I get to know in passing. Consequently, only those people who know me inside-out would honestly claim that I'm a person who's just "alright." It's not a coincidence that the description I've laid out above has no fewer than, title included, eleven references to me (make that twelve). I'm affectionately referred to as "Ego." I think that last statement might have given away a tad too much. Welcome Aboard.
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