Navigating Solutions and Darkness

Written March 15, 2010 Apocalyptic title, you think? Well, think again. In less than 20 days, I say goodbye to what has defined my life for so long: School Life. Yes, indeed, it is the end. And as pictures of farewell ceremonies and farewell notes throng Facebook profiles... I find myself assailed by a curious kind of wistfulness. Now you'll think, "Oh man, there she goes again, emo talk and senti crap. When the HELL does she NOT feel wistful?" I'm not gonna blame you, but I do like to think that this time I have ample reason for complaint. 'Cause going through all the pictures and shit (and I am not gonna bore you with how I was not reduced to tears by them), one line that kept recurring was:  14 wonderful years with you people, thank you so much. Our own farewell was no exception. The same old Ramayana, minus the Facebooking. 14 years together, yada yada, and I think, "Where the hell are MY 14 years together?" Shifting schools hasn't hurt ...

Photo by  Matt Duncan  on  Unsplash I remember the first time I fell in love with a language. It was fourth grade, and we had to learn a third language in school - after English and Arabic, both of which were compulsory. The options were Hindi, Urdu and French. I didn't know any Hindi or Urdu and my parents really couldn't help me there. The scripts were a little difficult to acclimatize to, and I really wanted to learn French. Urdu was never even really considered an option (I wonder why). The kids who learned Hindi and Urdu actually spoke it as their first language, so I guess that was pretty convenient for them. The teachers for both these languages taught in said language, I would probably have been lost from Day 1, and that would have screwed up my perfect percentages.  I was eager to learn French - I connected to it as much as I failed to connect with Hindi and Urdu. It helped that Mrs. S was glamorous in a way teachers in that school definitely weren...

Photo by  Jeswin Thomas  from  Pexels Published on July 12, 2008. 30th June, 2008 It seems like the whole world is going on, while i lie forgotten, buried, locked away. Life is an unforgiving thing, and people are forgotten faster than the sand that blows over their graves. Long before final resting places merge into one another and earthly abodes crumble into dust, the souls that inhabited them are wiped from the memories of the living. And as each of a generation retires for good, there is one less reason to be remembered. In this vein, the song Leave Out All the Rest is thought provoking. Chester always seems to take great pleasure in tormenting people with his torments, and this one is no different. "...I woke with this fear What am I leaving, when I'm done here?" You know what, Chester? Good question. So.. locked up in a hostel and cut off from all lines of communication by the overzealous (and as I'm sure, well meaning) efforts ...

Photo by  Nathan Dumlao  on  Unsplash An old classmate messaged me the minute I sent her a friend request, and that was pretty unusual. Perhaps it shouldn't be, but it was. I came across her profile when a bunch of pictures were uploaded, featuring other old classmates who are on my friend list, and who were celebrating the engagement of an old classmate. I wasn't particularly surprised by the engagement (also unusual), but this was because I'd been told about it in advance.  And then I wondered who this D.M. was, who had uploaded the pictures. I certainly did not know any D.M. The profile picture wasn't clear, but as I went through the pictures and noted that D.S. was in them, the dreadful truth began to dawn on me. I went to her profile to see whether my suspicions were true, and realized I wasn't even friends with her on Facebook. I sent her a request that she immediately accepted, and thus we come full circle to how I came to be speaking to her....