Most of what I write goes into drafts these days – it’s hard for me to publish things when I am overthinking them through. Is it writer’s block or loss of the freedom from the pen, I will never know.
Moving here has felt like a dream – Belgaum is a paradise for creative people, especially writers like me. The clouds hover in the sky artistically – if you visit the windmills situated at the city outskirts you will know exactly what I am talking about when with a short drive on the beautiful highway, then the road snaking up the hills you find yourself amidst the clouds that hover low enough kissing the turbines with fervor. It rains here so much, I have never seen a place like this – the umbrella has become an asset of equal importance to me like my phone. You can not leave your hostel room without it for it might start raining anywhere, at any time. The breeze hits you perfectly, exactly the ones you crave in romantic settings – but romance for me is far-off. When it rains too much you feel like Bella in Forks, minus the Edward to cheer you up.
I don’t talk to people back at home too much. There is a strange sense of missing that envelops me if I do – they won’t get it – I don’t talk to them not because I don’t miss them but because I do.
I try avoiding talking about residency, mostly because there’s not a lot happening due to the higher authorities restricting us to keep the COVID exposure low – but also because I am taking time to absorb and adjust. ‘Taking it slow’ is a phrase I use too much these days, but learning the meaning of it gradually. It can be applied to all arenas isn’t it? Take it slow to understand the pressure of academics so it doesn’t overwhelm and break you. Take it slow with all the new friends you are now surrounded with so that they don’t turn back in future and back-stab you. Take it slow with the guy you met, because he might hurt you in the same bloody motherfucking way every one else did before me. Deep breath. Take it slow.
I have seen with increasing age humans have become less and less dependable. They are controlled by their whims and fancies. Their own moods and their own situations. I understand them, I feel for them, but I will not entertain them anymore. My father always egged me – “communicate, Sanu, communicate”. I resisted him so much then, but now I realise how his teachings have seeped into me more than his words could consciously then. I hate a man who can’t communicate now. I am short tempered with someone who’s flaky. I have realized how I am more my father’s daughter with each passing day when I up my barriers before someone takes advantage of me since I lowered them. 26 years are a long time to develop guards and instincts from previous hurtful experiences. It will take a person of real grit to lower them again. Though before judging someone I need to incorporate such lessons inside me as well. I am so grateful to have found a bunch of friends here who keep checking on me. Life really does get better if you have people to share it with. For you can go only faster if you are alone, but farther together.
I understand now what my hosteler batch-mates in UG felt about me as a dayscholar – it’s hard to connect and feel close to someone who you see only for a few hours in the day when you have a bunch of stories happening in the night. Though I am still trying to understand why someone would two time me for that; since I thought I would be absolved from that area in dating since I live in the hostel – but funnily enough we have a curfew of 10 pm.
Dating is hard at this age – people come with a lot of baggage that I have no space to keep. They come with their moods, whims and insecurities and I have mine. I guess that’s what they say about love – it’s a miracle. Because it will be a complete miracle for me to feel love for someone again. Until then, I am happy with this life of my own creation. I wake up each day and I am grateful. Grateful for all the varied experiences every single day that keep overwhelming me. Grateful to have friends who make me chai when I feel low, or go on a scream fest with when we try to find spots to have midnight fresh air but end up getting scared by ghostly singing from some untraceable space. Grateful for a huge campus equipped with all facilities I ever dreamt of. Grateful for stalwarts as my faculty and people who guide and not just chide as my seniors – I can’t tell you what a blessing it is to have seniors who are sweet and supportive – it amplifies your learning in residency! I am grateful for Belgaum having spectacular food (but not the extra kgs it’s adding *Le cries*) and a waterfall or nature’s paradise in every direction. I am even grateful for my swollen sprained finger from playing basketball for I am finally getting to learn to play it after yearning after basketball courts I had no clue to navigate since ages; but most importantly I am grateful for myself – still standing strong after everything I have faced in the past 26 years. Every time I am on the verge of breaking down I realise why I shouldn’t – because I don’t. I am resilient. That’s my greatest asset, apart from my smile and other things – which the boys say 😉
That’s it. A bunch of sentences to leave you with on a Sunday morning. Find what makes you happy, and be grateful for it. It has taken me a long time to come back to writing again. Hope this doesn’t sound like gibberish. If it does, I am sure I will improve in the next post.
Love,
P.
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