“Wake up, it’s already 8. What happened, you used to get up so early beta….”, and the monologue goes on while the protagonist is lost in the warmth of the blanket. That’s the beginning of the last day of my vacations. Oh God!!! How I dread this day… My king size life is again going to turn into a mouse trap. It’s like emigrating from Utopia where everyone cares for me to a wonderland where everyone seems to be as lost as I am.
The moment I open my eyes, I find a big air bag with its mouth open as if it were to gulp me down mercilessly. “Come on you moron… its time to go back, enough of laziness”, my mind cries out and I sit beside the lump of clothes wondering where to start from. Looking down the to-do list, my eyes get watered … Why does the time fly by like this? Being in tears doesn’t suit an undergraduate student. Does it?
The only thought that travels down my mind is how I can possibly postpone my return. It’s for sure, I can’t. When I sit down to pray, my imagination goes from fanciful to tragic and I wish things go worse there so that I be saved from leaving home. Another new semester is there to devour my energy and enthusiasm. If world is a stage, life is a drama and I am a character then, these semesters are acts where I start as a hero, tragedies turn me into a comedian and the descending curtains witness my miserable end as a villain …and the results, simply “comedy of errors”.
My frustration becomes fourfold and I tend to turn from neurotic to psychotic I must acknowledge my thanks to the stupid vocabulary book which I used to pretend I have developed a reading habit. At least, I know the terms for the mental disturbances I am undergoing. Being neurotic means wasting a good amount of time in worrying and idiotic imaginations. A psychotic person is someone who has lost touch with the reality. But, my favourite word is “psychosomatic” which counts for all the headaches, stomachaches, nauseas and fevers that I had during exams. This is the magician wand which has won me sympathies and for that matter, excuses for my poor results. Where’s my thermometer yaar?
Before, I really get bogged down by fever; I would like to admit that sometimes, I give up before the kid within me and let the childish attitude take over…. but homesickness is something that takes toll of maturity and can even make my fifty years old father yearn. And then, college life is not that bad as far as there are things like bunks and velaapanthi…Now, its 11 o’ clock and the macabre morning is over. I indulge myself in preparations.