When I first arrived here, I was a wide-eyed naïve girl filled with dreams and aspirations. Along with my truck load of luggage I had brought a ton of hopes and dreams as well.
Though things happen here at prison pace, my expectations and aspirations were crushed within the first glance. My optimism and vigor evaporated from the sub-conscious like a shallow pond on a hot summer season. Ghastly hostels filled with haunting faces, leaking classrooms, egregious costume-made formals were enough to defeat any enthusiasm if it had still survived. In my new monotonous life, where my jokes unacknowledged, sly remarks unoffended, spirit defeated and my reserve labelled as arrogance, I tried to resuscitate thinking it was just for four years.
Though time moves at a constant pace, our thoughts have the potential to accelerate and decelerate it. With the passage of time I was now in my second year. Now I was the proud owner (more or less) of the title of MA’AM, seemingly as any blue-collared worker who was given it’s first perk. I wore it with my head held high (no pun intended). I wanted to play this role to its perfection and become an epitome of it. Expectedly or unexpectedly, I failed at this juggernaut task miserably and turned out to be the exact opposite of what I was aiming to achieve. Here I started my endless and futile campaign of winning other’s hearts. The warrior was dressed in all its finery and armed with the best weapon a mind can afford. Despite my high tolerance, I couldn’t survive the constant onslaught of merciless comments. Thus, I did what situation demanded and sued for mental peace.
With a broken spirit, defied conscience and a long string of defeats to my name, I crossed my halfway mark. In my penultimate year, I was now superior to most, inferior to rest and equal to none. Hence, I decided to block out all the cacophony from the stands and focus on getting ahead in the game. Alas ! How that could have been. In the end I was distracted and was back to where it all started. As it is commonly said that practice makes one perfect, I perfected the art of making wrong decisions by doing the same mistakes time and again.
Now In my final year, I have turned into an Army veteran – my wounds hardened into scars, my mouth filled with ashes and a traumatized anxious mind to deal with. Here I did what I should have been doing years ago – restrained myself, held my tongue and watched things from a distance.
To that naïve girl, who I can’t even remember anymore, I have only one thing to say “nothing you did was worth it, but don’t change yourself because others don’t deserve it”.
Finally, when I have completed my Shawshank redemption in this asylum/prison, I have only one thing to say that now I am institutionalized and used to this cruel place. The outside world is going to be worse and I fear that I would face it as the same naïve girl that I used to be.
Originally posted by : Adhishree, Chemical Engineering, 2k14 🙂