An account of disjointed emotions... by Sania Mumtaz Tahir
AN ACCOUNT OF DISJOINTED EMOTIONS
by Sania Mumtaz Tahir (1st yr)
The morning you wake up and you don’t even remember yesterday is the day when you learn a new life. No matter what you went through, it’s through; striding ahead, with no regret because of the simple fact, “No one else cares.”
Being away from home, in a hostel gives one the only lesson that family has no substitute. Life doesn’t cease for anyone even for a fragment of second if you fall. They won’t look back and wait for you, if you are left behind and they are running late. Bitter but true, they aren’t our family.
The first year here is the year we make reputations that will last for the next four years. It’s a time when we sit by the side of window and stare at everyone, observing and assuming, then see something else and forget about the first altogether. It’s a time when you do something; people talk for a while and shut up as soon as they find something better to talk about. It’s a time when you make friends, some that you yet don’t know might last forever and some who leave you for a better thrill in life. You see people changing good 18 years of life in weeks just to run in the race of desirability, pomposity and liberty.
In your dorm, you see the faces unravel and bang! The contrast from the apparent outlook. The thing that always makes me laugh is that Thanks Heavens!! People don’t really know what you are made of. Fun for the sake of fun, things you have never done in life with occasional bouts of sorrow and best part, you share it all with your friends.
Friends?! You can never really tell who is or isn’t your friend because the only being you have to trust is yourself. There are people who are your friends but you can’t bear them and there are people you like and you haven’t even greeted them. But friends! The only life saving factor in a place filled with familiar strangers. In a sea of two-faced humans, the few friends of yours stand out for you. Sometimes you don’t mean to do it but you one nice smile gains you the respect that you learn to cherish and sometimes a simple act of ignorance makes you lose your respect. All in all survival is strife.
Opinions and judgments are feared deep down by all. Some are striving hard to hold up their lifelong reputes just to see them being shattered and spilled like pearls sprawled on the floor. Still others are trying to take a fresh start, build new faces and even succeeding a little at first. But as it happens, in the end all of us have a story to tell of broken dream, a mortifying humiliation, a regret in past and cause of courage that kept the going.
Charm of getting ready every day, looking good and having your friends compliment you needlessly and truth-lessly, ends in a few days. Getting ready? Ekh!! In the end you don’t even comb your hair. And seriously it’s a fact, no matter how gorgeous a girls or how cute a guy looked one day, it will all be swept away by the wind into the abyss of past. What remains is the way you hold yourself up. Yeah! Sure, don’t care what others say, yet they will talk all they can. The image you leave being is what this place makes you. No one is going to care at the end whether you wear “Chinyere” or “Prada”, it’s only your personality that matters; for the sole reason that we have to live together and that is not a joke.
At times when I descend the stairs that lead to Patiala block and see the pathway, sometimes crowded and at other times deserted, there is one thing that is always there; the gray prints of those who have gone behind us. Walking through the corridors is like living 151 years of history the people who have had the privilege of being written in the history of this eternal legend.
Life teaches you so much at each step and just at the moment when you are sure as hell that you are mature. Maturity is nothing else but to live without a past. So sadly, you can never be mature enough.
8 comments
Never read an article I could relate so much to.. as this. Hope U keep sharing such stuff sania cuz for some, it's more than words assembled, it's feelings mutualised.
ReplyDeleteits an important phase of life that teaches us more about life.....true faces of people and most important how to live a life
ReplyDeleteAbsolutely splendid Sania!! Very true, every bit of it!!
ReplyDeleteVery mature for a first year ! Way to go !
ReplyDelete:) loved the way u explained such a complicated issue so easily....:)
ReplyDeletelearning from life be one thing: but where to apply when time has gone and a new day dawns with a totally new manifesation ....what i have learnt so far is not to learn but to "teach" yourself as your heart says.....
ReplyDeletesania, nice ideas but you can do with some more intertwining kind of orientation in presenting your thoughts. 2 things in your article especially appealed me a lot...first,the rush life seems to be in at hostel, blowing away all deep associations, imbibing all ruthlessness and ever-on-the-high gusto for indulging in mere pleasures forgetting the worth of real happiness. and i agree with you on this that ever so many times,you are entranced by some influencing person but feel so over-awed that exchanging a plain greeting becomes an arduous challenge, it is so typical of maturing phenomenon....that span of our lives we spend in hostel. but i think the closing words sounded too dreary; maturity isn't that cruel a process to demand your getting demented and letting go of nostalgia...rushing ahead like a ferrari is not maturity; learning to co-ordinate and stabilize your slow stumbling walk in the speeding gusts of life is what makes you mature in thought, infallible in dealings besides keeping you robust in health and spirits.....for you see speeding with life might age and wither you sooner.
ReplyDelete... and you'd learn, and see a lot more in the years to come :) but yes, learning from past is definitely included in the process of maturing. You can't exactly forget the past that takes you to those lessons, but shun the emotional attachments with the past.. and you're good to go :)
ReplyDelete