The Question

There’s a distance, I can feel it almost fall through it, it’s so wide. You with your world, and me with mine.

Never the twain shall meet.

I sit and talk, but its taxing, pushing my brain to find something to say that will make you feel like it’s me again. I know you’re looking for traces of our walks to the fence, of the draining discussions, of the reels of notes we wrote in class. I see you scanning what I say, looking for a meaning that’s more than on the surface. I know it’s not possible, but thats all I am now.

You have snow, and I have sun in winter and rain in summer. You have classes I can only dream about attending, and I have home that you miss.

We never saw this coming. We knew changes would come, but never saw the gap between your meanings and my understanding of them. We never saw the question in our minds that we are too afraid to voice:

Who are you, and why don’t you understand me anymore?

Graduation.

When the entire school gathers in the amphitheater for an assembly, the youngest class (i.e KG) sits on the bottom most step. I can still remember my 4 year-old-self gazing up at the sea of senior faces untill I found the top most step, and I wondered when the day would come when I would sit on that top pedestal myself. That day came and went at the beginning of this school year. Today, however, I return to that bottom step.

Today, I graduate from school.

I know for a fact that my class has been looking forward to this day for a number of reasons, but we all carefully blocked out the thought that although today is a day we dress up (“prettify”) , and generally have fun this is also our last day together. Most of the people going abroad have already received their acceptance letters from their respective universities, and the rest of us who are staying home have begun our application processes to colleges in India.

The past few months have been filled with conversations ranging from what colour saree we’re each going to wear, to where to buy your grad dress from, to where you’re going to holiday, and most of all, of what we’re all going to do once our exams are done.

The last 14 years have been filled with drama, fun and most of all learning. Learning in the way education cannot teach you. My sociology book would probably term it as “informal education”. A majority of who I am today, and whatever I become, is what my school has taught me inside the classroom and outside. I’ve learnt to stand up for whatever I believe in. I’ve learnt that talking things out is most probably the best way to deal with an issue. And most of all, I’ve learnt that friends are the people who you can sit with in a tent, in the middle of a scary forest after a 3 hour trek up some godforsaken hills, and still have the energy to sit through the night and gossip !

So today, as I sit in the amphitheatre for the last time as a student of my school, the cycle will be complete. I will return to the bottom step, but this time, with memories that will last me a lifetime. This time, sitting beside me will be (mostly) the same people I sat with 14 years, but this time we are not going to be shyly saying hello in our scared and timid voices, but we are going to be saying goodbye.

Duhpression.

Does one have to be self-obsessed(ish) to maintain a blog?

Just something I had to ask out loud.

And you know what. My current “lack of depressing events” is affecting my ability to write. Go figure. Maybe I have to artificially depress myself? But then was I really depressed all those times I thought I was depressed? Or did I just subconsciously fool myself into thinking I was depressed so that I could believe I was depressed so I could channel my angsty and heartbreakingly whirlwindy emotions into something remotely understandable?

Some people need alcohol, some drugs and me?

I need to be stuck , bang-in-the-middle of a low.

Hahaha.

And because I’m bored and I have a taste for pink right now:

This graph sums up this entire post

writer.jpg

BLAH.

I’ve been having those blah weeks/days lately.

Must be the weather. But that’s horrible because I love this weather. It’s all nice and dark and depressing (yes, my father says I’m morbid person and I agree). But it seems to be doing not-so-good things to my life.

I tried doing some creative writing (voluntarily not part of school work or anything), and I simply cannot write anything I am even remotely satisfied with. And it’s not even like I have really high standards. This in turn leads to me to question my career as a future journalist because if I can’t write on demand then I’m pretty much.. toast.

Plus I have this horrible half-Flu thing that makes me tired but not sick enough that I have to stay in bed all day long. I tried studying, but that didnt work (when does it ever). I tried reading a novel, but I got bored.

BLEH. Life better get exciting soon.

I did take some pictures of my highly photogenic puppy dog at my photoblog.

PS: Scotland weather sucks.