A short nostalgia of the past two years,
How I understood things and had overcome my fears.
Young in blood and just out of school,
Grades and accolades that’d make everyone drool.
I said to myself, “It had to be Science!”,
My solace in the theories and celestial bodies my compliance.
While I wasn’t aware of the turntables,
From memes and DOTA to dreams and KOTA.
That was probably the last time my self-esteem was that high,
And what followed was life since there was no catch after each try.
I made up my mind and read profusely on Quora,
Dream being the same, but institutions plethora.
I woke up early from a dreams filled nap,
A small prayer before I fell in the trap.
My parents bid me adieu with some sugar and curd,
While I silently appended myself to the herd.
You might be wondering why I sound so dull?
The rat-race was so pathetic, it left me empty inside the skull.
It was my first test as a part of this race,
I looked at my grades and wondered if I’m a disgrace.
There are these theories or are they rather laws?
Know it all to keep off from flaws.
There was panic where there was inorganic,
and a lot of practice if it was electrostatics.
Amidst projectiles and intersections,
There were rules and their exceptions.
I’ve lost the count of sums I’ve solved,
For this dream of a college around which my life has revolved.
While I was still struggling and working on my rank,
Every time I looked at the mark sheet it felt like a prank.
I couldn’t be accurate no matter how hard I tried,
A yearning so impatient I eventually cried.
It really made me anxious maybe it was my confidence,
It filled me with fear and some awkward incompetence.
Wondered if my struggle would end up as a fate of dime,
if I can actually make it to the dream place this time.
I recall the turntables,
Two years apart but the rhyme shifted from a topper to almost a dropper.
I have ‘the last supper’ and decide to sleep over it,
While I was under-prepared for the battle and emotionally unfit.
I woke up to this unexplainable panic,
Neither was it the JEE date nor was it an hour of inorganic.
Everyone talked about this virus that killed people,
A twist of fate and an end to my stressful prequel.
While the ones that were privileged lived their lives a little,
And the ones that built the country had their beliefs left so brittle.
While some baked cakes and posted pictures of their meal,
There were millions that suffered and unheard of how they feel.
I had been working diligently but had no purpose,
And it took a virus for me to understand this circus.
Maybe it made me rethink and I wanted to be a helping hand,
To the sweeper, the watchman and the boy my age but with a 16-hour delivery errand.
The deadly virus, the countries and it’s unimaginable rife,
Gave me enough time and motivation to turn around my life.
It was painful and scary yet all I did was strive,
It was a mere purpose that kept me alive.
While there is so much violence and communal hatred,
Why can’t having a life with purpose be considered sacred?
While we only listen to what pleases our ears,
The thing we shouldn’t turn a deaf ear to is our countrymen’s tears.
While everyone still wants things to be black and white,
Maybe it’s the purpose of life that’ll keep our country away from this fight.