The Times that Change

If I may reiterate Vincent Van Gogh, ‘I dream of writing and write my dreams’. Nearly a year ago from now, penning down my thoughts was never this hard. Was it because life at K was a new experience every day - A story that we would reminisce for the months to come? Or is it because, now, life has become the same old drudgery that we have been forced to get accustomed to?

But then again, what can be a better time to re-enkindle my nostalgia, my passion, my love for writing than the same old zephyr, the same old mountains and the same old winding road uphill that welcomed us back; that made us feel as if we had never left.

The 2 days spent on campus were pretty different this time. With us finding every opportunity to revisit the most memorable 2 years in 2 days, once again seeing those faces that we had last seen when we bid goodbye, meeting our favourite professors, those smiles and hugs that gave us back the warmth we had missed so much. And then again came those goodbyes, those teary-eyed farewells when we realized that it would be another couple of years before we’ll meet again, at this time, at the same place.

However, leaving campus this time was not that tough. Was it because we were more prepared for it than we were the last time we left? Was it because we knew that we were going back to the same old drudgery that we had left behind us just 2 days ago? Or was it because we knew each other better that we knew what to expect from them and what not to?

I have come to realize that most of my posts in the last 2 years have been about life at K and I was quite sure this one would be the same. ‘You always write about your time at K. What will you write about once you leave?’, they kept asking. I really didn’t know how to answer them then. I would, without any doubt, come up with a topic; there are so many. But today, as I write, I can’t help but feel the void; that something is missing, that the ink from my pen doesn’t flow as it used to back then.

What has changed? Is it me? Have I become too professional, too sophisticated, too mature that en route this voyage I let go of the juvenile, mischievous self that I was? Is it those around me? Have they changed? If I think of it, it’s just the time-the Times have changed.  

We have become so used to being in an environment where we are looked at with envy and jealousy that it has only made us tougher. We have become so accustomed to staying alone that it gives us solitude, sometimes boredom but never the sense of freedom. We have accepted with such ease the patriarchy in the society that we have learnt to live with those ogling eyes, those constant stares and those lewd remarks with our heads bent down in acceptance. They say, “When in Rome, be a Roman”. But, did they mean that we mould ourselves in a way such that people around us would begin to accept us; even at the cost of our own dreams, aspirations, lifestyle and behaviour? Did they mean that we accede to their unrealistic dictates without voicing our opinion just because, as they say, “Aaj toh ladki suna kar gayi!”? Why do they expect their female colleagues to behave in a way that they would never prefer a girl from their family to? Why are they not sensitive enough to understand what to talk and what to not, when to talk and to not, yet expect us to feel comfortable in their company? Situations like these only make one tougher, more aware and make us realize that life outside is very different from what we thought and that some learnings are best left within the Acad block-not because we are not adept enough to incorporate them; but because our society is not yet ready enough to accept them.      

Mitch Albom writes, “Man alone chimes the hour. And, because of this, man alone suffers a paralyzing fear that no other creature endures. A fear of time running out.” We have set stringent deadlines for our life - post-graduation by 23, marriage by 28, multiple promotions and a respectable position in the organization by 30, retirement by 60; but is life so predictable that the deadlines can be ‘sacrosanct’? College has made us adhere to timelines, has made us ecstatic, when, in trying situations, these deadlines were extended. But today, a miss in the deadline makes us anxious, makes us fret, makes us feel incompetent compared to our peers. We are so anxious about our future that we forget to live in the present, to enjoy all that we have earned, to give time to our family and friends, to live….

We all yearn for what we have lost. But sometimes, we forget what we have. We yearn to be a student back again, to be in campus for 1 more day, for 1 more year; to spend just 1 hour with the same people who we used to spend months with. We may not be in K anymore, but we have learnt a lot more from there, long enough to keep us going in this ruthless, lecherous world; long enough to endure the changes, the compromises and the adjustments that we are forced  to make everyday. We yearn to go back home, to go back to the coziness, the warmth and the comfort that we have taken for granted all these years; to enjoy the sumptuous meal at home, to pour out all our worries to our parents, to share a laugh with our siblings-to be ourselves, without worrying about being judged. But then again, they are the 1^st ones we go to in troubled times, we need them to tell us, “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine tomorrow.” And sometimes just smile when they say, “If you don’t like it there, come back home. You’ll fine 10 other jobs for yourself.” How we wish that was true! How we wish we could go back!

We all have awaited our ‘Dream come true’ moment. But once this moment passes, comes the slow, melting realization that this is not what we thought it would be like. This is not what we imagined our colleagues to be like. This is not what we imagined our managers to be like. This is not what we thought our friends would be like. And this is definitely not what we imagined our life to be like.

Life has changed in the past few months. There are a very few people with whom we are still as comfortable talking to as we were back then. It’s not about how often we meet them or talk to them, it’s more about how good we feel even in those little times that we talk. As they say, it is easy to talk to people, but hard to remember them. As the days pass, very few people would still remember you, very few would still be there to comfort you, very few would give you a shoulder to cry on. But as Rabindranath Tagore puts it,

If they answer not to your call walk alone

If they turn away, and desert you when crossing the wilderness

O thou unlucky one,

trample the thorns under thy tread,

and along the blood-lined track travel alone.

If they shut doors and do not hold up the light when the night is troubled with storm,

O thou unlucky one,

with the thunder flame of pain ignite your own heart,

and let it burn alone