stitched with its color

Going through an old notebook, I came across a verse I had jotted down a few years back, in my initial blogging days, when I had come across this verse on some blog. It's by W.S. Merwin, from Separation

"Your absence has gone through me, like thread through a needle
 Everything I do, is stitched with its color."

Absence imagery generally associates with leaving a hole, making one inside you, that someone's not being there takes something away from you, something that you previously owned, and held dear. It leaves a void to be filled, a gap waiting to be replaced.

But this, someone had written, this brings up the idea of a sort of positive absence. An absence which enhances your being, not in the sense that you are better off without the person. But that somehow their absence has enriched your worldview.

Is that even possible? Someone whom you love, can their absence ever be better than their presence? In the courtly tradition, the poets used to believe that requited love was the best thing to have. Next best, they would say, is making a sonnet out of love which is unrequited. So how can absence possibly trump presence?

There are complex shades to words and phrases, and I rather believe that this verse implies something slightly different.

It purports the idea of how someone's absence creeps into every single thing you do, every activity you carry out and every word you breathe in. From how they would react to each scene of Breaking Bad you are watching, and your urge to call them up and narrate the thrilling tale of how you were today THIS close to hitting into a car, and your wonder about what they would say about whatever new activity you take up to distract yourself, their absence is everywhere, glaring into your face, reminding you constantly of what was once. That is exactly how absence works. A person just doesn't cease to be if they are gone, because if that was so, how would memory make one immortal?

No, absence weaves into every aspect, and the use of the word 'stitch' is what brings in the wonderful complexity of the situation. It's sowed into every idea that is born in your head, that is how insidious it is, tinting and coloring all the sights around you.

But experience, and the world, which is made up of millions of stories, teaches us that it fades.

The world, which is made up of tiny, little stories, tells us

that

it fades.

Watermelons.

It was our last evening in Singapore, Dad and I. My dad wanted some chai, so we walked along the Beach Road, looking for some nice place. We chose a nice table, outside a restaurant, and my dad picked up the menu.

Hmm.

Chai.

Where is it?

No.

Not this chai.

I don't like it.

I won't have it.

Wow! Watermelon. I will have watermelon instead.

We looked around, and an Indian guy came to take our order. "Watermelon, " my dad said happily, and he got us just that. Slowly, they got to talking and we found out that

that

this guy was brought to Singapore from India on the pretext of a 'good job' and was ordered to wait tables then. I did not think much of it then, but I have never forgotten him, for some strange reason. I can imagine his excitement, of moving to another country and working, seeing new places, having a good life. And how shattered and crushed he would be with what he got.

Treachery.

And my dad, like he always does, my dad gave him the most fantastic advice.

He told him to stick it out.

He told him to be strong.

He told him, that sometimes in life, we do come across such situations, that the best thing to do is to face it with all you've got.

And when you have no other option, then be very, very strong.

He smiled. The kind of smile that said, I'm trying sir, I'm trying. It's very hard, and sometimes I want to give it all up, sometimes I want to quit, sometimes I completely break down. But I'm still here sir, meeting you. I'm still trying.

That smile said it all.

Said it all. 

I'm smiling too.

Hello I'm Srishti, my country is Maldives o_O

So I am sitting behind the wheel, one twin sitting next to me on the passenger seat and the other one at the back. We are thinking, and we're thinking, of what to do next.
College has gotten over earlier than expected, and thanks to our wise (ahem) decision of choosing LSR over North Campus, we are isolated from the rest of the campus.

I have started the car and the engine is revving. "Okay, let's just go and meet Sikka in C.P.", I said, resigning to the boring, original plan.
They agreed dully and we started.

But you see, I'm still 18 and still a bit, umm, unaware of the roots around Delhi. And well, laughing and talking, I take any road that appears, taking random turns, as we all exclaim about how we have no clue about where the hell are we going.

I keep driving and I spot; Dyal Singh College, Air Force Bal Bharti School, "Oohh, we're going towards Khan!" I tell them, secretly relieved. C.P. is not so far from Khan. And then on our left I see the beautiful India Habitat Center.

We looked at each other and agreed without even discussing; we were going to India Habitat Center. We went in, and after finally discovering a parking spot, we parked and entered, all geared up.

We decided we'd go to the main hall, look for the notice board which had a list of all the events taking place at IHC at that time, choose something and attend it. Who knows, we might end up learning something new, or maybe come to develop a new interest; anything could happen. As we roamed around, we saw an exhibition going on, called Trucatech or something.

We had no clue what it meant. There were people there, at least twenty years older to us, passionately debating the pros and cons of whatever the agenda was, irrigation or something, and the twins in their pajamas and multicolored attire, and I in my blood red t-shirt and wild curls, could NOT have looked more out of place. We were about to leave when we saw something else, something which made our hearts beat a little faster, which strengthened our resolve to stick it out a  little further.

Food.

A huge buffet had been laid out, and we saw several men piling their plates with so much, so much food, that it made our stomachs rumble. The main problem, you see, the main problem that we ended up in IHC in the first place was that the twins were short of money and I didn't have enough to sponsor all three of us, and hence we couldn't go for a nice lunch.

So when we saw all the delicious food being gobbled up by people in front of us, we just couldn't...look away. That's when we hatched the plan- this is the cool thing we will do today; somehow, somehow, we have to have the free food, which was being shamelessly wasted around. This suited all our needs- a sense of thrill, an end to our hunger and doing something new for the day.

We walked around the exhibition, pretending to take notes, telling everybody that we are students of B.Sc. from the University of Delhi and that we are researching for our project, while all the time having no idea what the exhibition was actually about. Some guy asked us if we were there for the exhibition or the conference, I quickly answered with exhibition, in case we were actually expected to attend the conference. But when later we found out that the food was only for the people who were attendees of the conference, it came as a huge blow.

With a heavy heart, we moved further in the Center, suddenly losing all interest in Trucatech and to our utter delight, entered a hall, where four doors opened to rooms from which wafted delicious smells of...more food. Excitedly, we moved to the washroom to fix ourselves when Sikka called and we instructed her to reach IHC. I explained to her that we are hungry, with no money and that we HAD to SOMEHOW have our lunch here. As I was on the phone telling her all this, we heard the sound of a flush, and a lady came out of a stall in the washroom, clearly, somebody who's in one of the conferences, and all that we could think of was, shit, did she just overhear us?

She washed and dried her hands and exited gracefully, and the twins later said that she had a secret little smile on her face, but I never saw it.
But with new-found confidence, we jumped in again.

This time it was Economic Crisis and Peoples Alternatives in Asia and Europe- the 9th Asia Europe Peoples Forum (AEPF), South Asia Preparatory Conference.

Whatever that means.

Ignoring the fact that we were at the LEAST fifteen years younger than any given person in there, that we were dressed for a hookah bar not an international conference, and that we had absolutely no idea about what one is supposed to do there, we marched inside.

It was lunch hour and there were tables and tables, laden with scrumptious food, and that was our catalyst. To be able to eat, we had to have id's for the conference. I confidently strutted towards the sign up desk.
"Hi, " I said smiling widely, as if I have always known her. " We are students from Lady Shri College, the University of Delhi and we study Political Science. We are here has representatives of our college, and we are required to attend the conference and report the event for our magazine. So where can we sign up?" I didn't give her a chance to refuse.

"Ohh," she said, glancing at her colleague, looking for a suitable reply. " Wait, I'll just ask somebody..."
She explained this to her senior who told her to not be silly and help us sign up, so on the registration sheet, she made a separate column for 'STUDENTS' and beneath that, we wrote our names and numbers.

Later, I realized that we should have probably written fake names and numbers to make the experience even better, but well, this is how we learn.

"You know what the agenda is, right?" she asked.

"Yes, of course!" I replied, nonchalantly, well, as nonchalant as one can be in a situation like this, and walked in the conference room. People were arguing and debating, some were eating, so mostly we walked in unnoticed. We got our id cards and it asked for our name and country; quizzically, we stared at each other, trying to think of a country.

I chose Maldives.
Payal chose Sri Lanka.
Nupur, Bhutan.

 Straight faces? Oh well.

Finally, when we had our id's, we came out and focused on the food around us. Unfortunately, by the time we had managed all this, the main course was almost finished and we didn't want to draw unnecessary attention towards ourselves, so we went straight for the dessert.

Then, we had the world's most wonderful brownie, mousse and ice-cream and because it was hard-earned, it tasted even better. All the while we were there, we couldn't help giggling, which probably blew our cover. This one serving boy, probably he had an eye on us, went up to his manager and spoke to him, maybe hoping to be praised in return for exposing our true intentions in front of everybody, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw him. I saw him. They were totally staring at us, more than everybody else, and pointing and nudging; I knew what was about to happen and told the twins so, as they panicked, but I beckoned them to stay there.

I averted my gaze and pretended to be in animated conversation when the manager came to us.

"Are you a part of the event, ma'am?" he asked us politely.

I knew what I had to do, it has always been in my blood; my dad is a superb improviser.

"Yes, obviously!" I said, with feigned confusion, obviousness, amazement at the stupidity of the question with just a hint of being offended, holding up my ID full in his face the whole time, but shaking it, so he wouldn't be able to read what is written.

"Sorry ma'am, " he said apologetically, and walked away, cursing the serving boy under his breath the whole time. He was not convinced though, the serving boy, he was a smart one; he followed all our movements and we realized it was time to leave.

With great difficulty, we managed to dodge him and eventually escaped, gushing about how FANTASTIC it had felt!

So I learned three very important things today

1. People will believe almost anything you say, if only you say it confidently enough.

2. Very often, people are confused and directionless, doubtful and ambiguous about what they are required to do, and what falls under their profile or jurisdiction. All they need is a sure voice, to guide them, and make things just a teensy bit clearer.

But most importantly, I learned that not EVERYBODY is a fool, that there are EXTREMELY smart people out there and if you are not CAREFUL, you will be trampled, and the only way to remain in the race is that along with the shrewdness, you need to maintain HUMILITY, which, no kidding, actually is the most essential trait of all.

Gods be good!

ohmygodohmygodohmygodOHMYGOD!

First day of college tomorrow. I don't know why I am freaking out if I truly don't care.

Turns out, I do. I do, I do, I do!

Ehh, girls. :|

Tomorrow is orientation (which was dead boring, as people of other colleges have reported) till 12, and then subject orientation from 12. I wonder what they will say for so long. There'll be a million boring speeches I bet, then some lunch. And I read in the paper that LSR has a

TREE PLANTATION DRIVE

for their freshers.

Yes, tree plantation. Like, each fresher has to plant a sapling, and as the sapling grows and nourishes into a tree, the same expression can be applied to us kids, that we grow into more mature people like that sapling and the school, oops college, will care for us and all of that.

I mean, yes, it's very sweet, but...tree plantation.

If you ask me, the orientation should have that dance thing that AIESEC had when we went for it's induction.

Like, here we are, going for it's first ever meeting, and we enter this basement. On the way, we can hear loud music and claps and hooting and I raise my eyebrows at Sikka. 'Sounds like a party.'

We enter and the organizers are dancing and the rest of the volunteers are facing them, following their dance steps. As we look around baffled, somebody nudges us to go in the back and join them. So we do. We dance for a good 10 minutes, and dance and dance and dance, doing what they do, asking around, do you have any idea why we are doing this? No one did.

And honestly, I still don't, they never told us. But I'm assuming it was an ice-breaker of some sort, and if it was, it really did fulfill it's purpose.

That, if you ask me, is an excellent idea for an orientation.

URGHH butterflies!!

TOMORROW.

Of the matters of the head and the heart.

There will be many, many occasions in life, important occasions, when I will have to take life altering decisions. These decisions will determine almost every aspect of my life, as a result of which, I will become what I will become. For that one decision, I will reap or pay for a long, long time, and once chosen wrong, it’s not so easy to amend.

These decisions are not for me to take alone; they will involve the circle that we build around ourselves, the circle of love and friendship, of family and madness, of mentors and affection, and those plain simple people, from whom you need nothing but for them to just be there as they are.

I have learnt, these past few days, and I have learnt well, about the matters of the head and heart. 

So many people say it so many times, philosophers and thinkers, inspirational icons, wise men and women, your best friends, and even Oprah. Always and always they say,

Follow your heart.

In times of conflict, follow your heart and it will not disappoint you.

I used to love to hear it; such a heart-warming, optimistic, and genuine advice. If you seriously want it, so bad it makes you ache, go for it. Stop hesitating and go for it. And because it’s your heart, it will not disappoint you. So soulful, I could not wait to try it out.

But well, things turn out to be a little different from what you imagine and what you read. It’s kind of disappointing actually. But true nonetheless.

It is very easy to tell somebody to follow their heart, very convenient to imagine being so brave, so confident and spontaneous, you feel as if you’re in a movie.

But when the stakes are high, I’ve seen, when the stakes are very, very high, sit yourself down and consider; battle with yourself. Go through a horrible four days and cry yourself to sleep. Be overwhelmed and disturbed, indecisive and argumentative, unsure and irritated, but consider your choices carefully, again, and again, and again.

You never realize it until you face it, head on, almost slapping you in the face.

It is always very good to listen to your heart, people say, but when you’re there, following the winding paths that lead to obscure crossroads,

when you’re THERE

it is impossible to ignore the overwhelming logic.

It is impossible to overlook the clarity of the situation.

It is impossible to quieten the rationality of the head.

Why would you not choose something so obviously the more suitable, logical and appropriate option?

So when you do sit down to think about it, I told myself, it is not so easy after all.

                                                                    *

I knew I was screwed the moment they announced the result for CATE. Although with my result I was already getting the best colleges, I wanted to pursue English, the intensive, literature based course, which required a good CATE score, leave aside Hansraj college, where I was getting in already.

But this is not where it all began. It all began when St. Stephen’s College, the college which thought too much of itself, the ‘snobby’ college, where allegedly, Stephenians deemed only fellow Stephenians fit to keep company, released their cutoffs, way ahead of everybody else.

And it hurt. Like some angered, hunger driven spaghetti maniac was twisting giant forks in and around my intestines, it hurt like that. Okay, maybe not quite so much as that, but still it pinched pretty bad when I realized that I missed the cutoff by exactly 2 marks. The English cutoff was 95.25 % and I was 94.75.

Oh, if only!

I used to sit and think. If only I had not forgotten to answer that one question in Maths. If only I had not made that one silly error in Economics. If only I had guessed those two countries correct for UN Peacekeeping Operations!

Things would have been a little different. So the most revered college in India was off the list.

But I quickly got over that and the CATE result came out.

All India rank seventy-eight.

I was overjoyed (especially when I remembered the horrifying place we had been made to take our exam in, Jil, Riti and I, in some godforsaken part of Delhi, with crumbling walls and sandpits on the floor. It was a traumatizing experience, really) but at the same time, I realized what it meant.

If I got into LSR, and with this result, there was a good chance that I may, I would have to make that extremely difficult choice, which generations before me also had to make, not that THAT made it any more easy for me.

LSR…or North Campus?

North Campus had captured my heart the first time I had set my eyes on it; I somehow knew that I belonged just there. I could picture myself, hopping from one college to another, and being the cool, college kid that I always yearned to be. And the best part was, I had it all! I had every college for the course of my choice in North Campus, except for Stephens.

The problem here was, I also had LSR. And the India Today survey that ranked it number one, which made it impossible to ignore LSR.

Oh, believe me, countless tears were shed, because in some corner of my heart I could feel, that I may not go to North Campus after all. All that I had envisioned, my dreams about being in North, were beginning to shatter.

Why, everybody asks, why did you choose LSR if it made you so unhappy? You should’ve just gone with a nice college in North, just followed our heart!

As I mentioned before, it is not so easy. It is not so easy.

When I lay down all the facts before me, LSR was emerging to be a clear winner, although Kirori Mal College put up a good fight, a college which is becoming increasingly hep these days.

Sometimes, you may just have to choose the head eventually. It is a bit sad, and anti-climactic, but you may have to do it anyhow.

So here I am now. I’m going to Lady Shri Ram College for Women, for B.A. English Hons.

It’s very different from what I had expected, but everyone who has heard this has said (incredulously)

SO? What is there to be so bummed about?

To which all I can say is,

Give me a chance to find out.