Carpe diem

So this morning when I was lazing around checking updates on Twitter, one question tugged at my heartstrings. Thank you, @genderlogindia for reminding me of something that I should not have delayed this long. However, better late than sorry. :) There's a reason why this is not typed out and you have to read the letter in this illegible handwriting of mine (personal opinion), I wanted it to be original. In every aspect. And of course, hand written notes are the best, aren't they?  If I don't make any sense to you, (I don't remember the last time I was sensible) excuse me, I'm still learning. I hope this makes you, my reader, pick up a pen and write your heart out for that child you have left behind in the course of time. He/she will be glad to hear from you again. 

When I was 10 years old if anyone had said to me "why are you studying?" I would have looked at them as though they were asking me why the sun rises in the east and answered plainly, "because I have to" and went back to watching Shinchan on the TV. It seems too obvious to have said that because really, in my world I was told that I had to study without giving a fair explanation as to why, until I was old enough to analyse. To someone like me who has always heard "what are you studying?", "where are you studying?" and "how are you studying?", the word 'why' was alien. Do you have a better answer? I reckon most of us will agree on one point - to earn money and do well in life. That is exactly what I came to think of when I was no more a 10 year old. But then a certain boy whom I spoke with a month ago did have a different answer and I daresay it was a better one. Me: What's your name? Boy: Tom Cruise (sorry, I forgot his...

I don't remember how many days it has been since I was born, or rather I don't know how to count. All I remember was the morning I came to this world was a very cold one; my mother pulled me closer to her and I slept happily in the warmth that radiated from her body. When I woke up after a sound sleep I saw someone who looked exactly like me, except that it was of a different colour. And there were three others to my right, all were similar yet, their skin didn't match mine. I didn't know what to call them. My eyes refused to open wide, but somehow I tried to peek through half-open eyes. As far as I remember, I first saw my mother; she was huge but weak. Then I saw my look-alikes.Most of the time mother was busy feeding us and this one look-alike who always slept on my left bit my tail once, mother got angry and made a loud noise. She used to leave us where we slept, which was a road as mother told in a quiet colony, and roam about for sometime searching for food, I ...

It's been almost two weeks since I wrote my last paper, and voila, I'm a graduate now. As soon as I submitted my answer script, I found my way to the canteen, found one empty chair (unfortunately not under the fan) and sat down. There was nothing unusual about that day. I was quietly looking at what was happening around me. The same ambiance, the same canteen guy taking our orders, the same stereo playing some random Bollywood song which you don't get to hear over the loud voices shouting "Masala Dosa" or "Fried Rice" Why don't you serve Sujon Sticks during the exam season man, "cause oily food is not healthy?" Of course, the hustle of people going in and out of the canteen won't change. Never. Amid all this chaos, waiting for my juniors to come down, for a moment my mind stopped processing, and then, it hit me, straight and hard in the face. It's all over. Little did I know when I stepped inside the premises of St. Francis Girls...

                                                                 Pretentious Advice.  A few months from now as the final year students graduate, they will walk back into the dusty compound (most probably to collect a million documents stating that they are finally out of the graduation rat race) and meet  an old teacher, realize that time hasn't touched her one bit. They will smile wisely at the first year students who are struggling to find classes , trying desperately to fit in and are still unaware that the queues in the canteen can be fatal and decide that those were really the best days of their lives.  But the environment will also seem strangely alien to them, they will be surprised to learn how missing somebody isn’t immediately alleviated by their presence, how uncomfortable it is to imagine th...