Category Archives: Revival from the Oblivion
If you dont tell your story, someone else will. And since the time I have not been blogging and my results are out and I am into college, it has always has been somebody else telling my story.
May: Mingling with best of fours and best of fives, people posting the best calculation they can make out of their marksheets, friends and relatives calling in huge numbers, calls waiting, proud faces around the house and voices all around you enchanting, “Xaviers! Xaviers!” Yes, results.
Relatives who did not remember your birthday which went just 2 weeks ago, very well remember that you have given your boards under CBSE this year and thus demand marks. “Kitna aaya Chetan ka?” Even if I would’ve scored a 97% which is like 15 marks more I have already got, I would have still said that I got lucky to get into the category, “bhot hi bariyo aayo” among relatives. It is that dangerous phenomenon. So, all my family members and relatives, close and far told my story. I was gaping at them, thinking to myself if 94.25 would be enough for any good?
June: One after another, lists were coming out. None featured my name. Suddenly, one list did – Narsee Monjee Economics Honours. Isnt that great? Mumbai! Economics Honours! One of the best management colleges! Certainly a package which nobody could put down. I did. I decided against going to Narsee Monjee. To fast forward the story after that, presidency and xaviers were not taking me and finally I had a screen open on my laptop, which I never considered navigating through – The Bhawanipur Education Society admissions page. It felt like giving up. I tried to settle myself with my shunned dreams. Delhi University, Mumbai University, Presidency University, Calcutta University, nobody adopted this homeless. I don’t even know if anybody or anything told my story. My story was finished.
July: Hopes saw their end just when Xaviers uploaded its third list for bcom. I still thought I would be going with eco hons at bhaggu. I was willing to take the road less travelled by, but xaviers just kept pulling me towards it. From dropping Narsee Monjee to applying for Bhaggu and being upset, then considering it against Xaviers bcom and finally settling with Bcom hons, it was just a reckoning of how safe and secure school was. It was always a shelter to all the uncertainties for 12 years. Being into Xaviers, did not make me as proud as it made others. I could never update a status saying, “Xaverian!!!” I knew how fragile pride can be. But my marwari family was as glad as they could be. “Xaviers mei ho gayo, chhorro” reached the world through my landline. My family told my story. Xaviers told my story.
Where was I? In a shell, pushed back further with each coming story. But I was not deterred, I was waiting. Waiting to tell people my story. Sooner or later, we all will have our own story to tell. It is about time. I want to become Xaviers’ pride. That is when Xaviers will be my pride. What you did in 12 years at school, college demands something similar in 3 years. Here, life just starts to get fast paced. Will time tell my story? No. I will. I will.
The header declares “The revival”. Though, I have only given it the name, I would say, “Struggling or Fighting with the Oblivion” and you may perceive it is hanging somewhere between. My diary’s situation is exactly like the one of some elderly person who lies in front of his family, yet he is not considered. In this diary’s case, it is lying right beside my computer now. I see it everyday, every hour but it is still lying there. However I realize it’s importance as I do realize the importance of those elderly people and I do realize it from the day I read Shakespeare’s Seven Ages. The poem where he almost termed it as a routine of our lives to get forgotten even while we are living. I’ve tried composing poems sitting on my computer, the keyboard in front, what are the keystrokes to follow? But I’ve failed to compose one. But when I sit with my diary, I dont have a screen in front of me, I have a pen in my hand and I have LIFE in front of me. Poems are not lifeless, they can never be. This is one point of time where I refer to the previous post and say, “Technology has won over pen and paper” and then, conclude by saying, “Technology has actually dominated and defeated our life.”
Writing in the diary, wrote it in a way as if talking to the diary and at the same time referring to it in third person. See Chapter #1
Chapter 1 makes sense, and Chapter 2 can only make sense when chapter 1 makes sense.
I really came to the realization on how ways are changing. This diary, with which I once thought of filling all the pages in mere time, the same diary got submerged in the very technological waves. And not just this, they swallowed almost everything. Human beings have always wanted bigger and better things. A Nokia X3 is still working, but I want a HTC and suddenly then in a few months I get attracted to iPhone. That’s the attitude. In one of my poems I questioned the humans on levels of their humanity. I am hypocritical now or should I say, I was wrong then. Today being greedy is humane and being moral is foolishness. I have to apologize today (Sept 16th) for two things. One, for completely forgetting about you, my diary and second for keeping you under the brown-covered books. Their companionship does hurt, but what to do, they are forced companions. “Har ek friend zaroori hota hain!”
I shall inform you this, that the attachment is for the blog today and lesser for this diary. Reasons being widespread publicity and fame – simple. I want the world to recognize my talent. But the anti-climax lies in the fact that, I feel something like proud when somebody reads the diary. And sitting with whoever is reading and then turning the pages for them to introduce new write-up as pages come and go – the feeling is amazing. Relationships are always complex. The example lies in front of you – My relation with this diary.