Monday, October 5, 2015

Light at the end of the tunnel

As the air of academic rigour settles in, the earnest thoughts continue to subsist at the most unprecedented hour. Nicotine tolerances spike through brain while I struggle to conceptualize the primary aims of learning so that they become to promote wisdom rather than just acquiring knowledge. It is tiring. I am tired.

First few years and semesters as an undergrad were ignorantly blissful. Talking about things relevant to our lives, assignments were not much of an attention-worthy, party-hopping, singing songs that we really took a shine to, those were the golden moments or the treasured ones. Of course before the wild reality started to bite and deliver its early ferocious promises, sudden air of untamed perserverance slowly but surely crept in. 

However...

The mumbled verse of lecturers about subjects that are infinitely significant as "the" ultimate final authorization to the real world that lies outside the confines of my university and its ever-changing curriculum policy, I will miss. The struggle to perpetuate good CGPA and imbecilic strategies to fulfil above average degree requirements, I will miss. The perpetual nag about how we were tormented by the wrecked system administrators, I will miss. The petty quarrel and altercation from the first, second and third standpoint, I will miss. The sticky note that I pasted on my very last major project report that went "Please, Madam, give me decent grade I really need this" came in handy, I will miss. 

Along the way, my desire to become a perfectionist, when pushed to the boundary, were aspects of me desiring to become God. In my striving to be acquainted with some profound otherness, my self had become a stranger to me. Not only was this undesirable, it was totally ludicrous. If the distinction between "me" and "not me" is depicted as a square, the "me" is not, as I ordinarily assume what lies within the square. It is rather the line of the square itself, also means there is more to life than just focusing on the distinctness of getting an A or ace every class that I take, college life is a whole lot better than that. I have been downcasted, demoralized and disheartened by means of endeavour. Yet the aforementioned absences of hope are what drove me to be better. As of now I am enjoying every social aspect of being a student and I sincerely, in every sense of the word, do not want this to end. One day you will see the light, you will indulge in retrospection, and you will genuinely smile with unlooked-for warmth rushes through you.

Don't let demotivation give way to persistent black despair. I long for the final curtain call, and that ultimate standing ovation.