The Laws Of Study Vacations

Day 13

Over the past few days, I’ve made a remarkable observation – the laws governing study vacations are as fundamental as Newton’s laws of motion. Here is a comprehensive guide :

Law of diminishing returns – During the study vacation, there is, on average, a 10% decrease in the total amount of studying that is done on any given day, as compared to the preceding day.

This trend, however, is abruptly reversed and accompanied with a sudden surge in both vigor and panic, at a specific point in time (the “break point”) which usually occurs no earlier than 48 hours before the start of the exam (by which time, of course, the outcome of the examination has become inevitable, and the probability of altering it tends to zero).

Law of failed adherence – No timetable, without exception, however well-planned and seemingly practicable, will ever work as planned or be successfully implemented. This holds good for timetables that extend over months, weeks, days, hours, or even intervals of 10 minutes.

Law of extraneous influences – In the process of attempting to study, all things unrelated to the study material become supremely fascinating, and the student feels an obsessive and compulsive need to stare at blank walls, update blogs and play Criminal Case.

Law of successful recollection (applicable primarily to science students) – If the student possesses the ability to recollect, with reasonable accuracy, just one paragraph from one page after intensive reading for one hour, then the period of study shall be deemed to have been sufficiently productive.

Law of wishful thinking – Every student begins to incessantly replay some impossible fantasy in his/her mind, always ending with some disastrous event (like a gigantic asteroid hitting the college) that results in the cancellation of the approaching exam.

P.S. No asteroid did, unfortunately, crash into my college. I checked.

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A Letter To Nobody

Day 11

So, I’m quite certain that I shouldn’t send this email because you’ll probably think that I’m a crazy person and kick me to the curb, but oh well. I’m bored and can’t sleep due to waking up about an hour ago thanks to a lovely dream wherein you made yet another appearance in the theatre of my mind.

I am not the type who places any stock in dreams, or thinks that they have any deep meaning. More likely it’s just my brain struggling to make sense of all the random shit that I conjure up during the day in this boiling cauldron that is my subconscious.

This dream however, was interesting, in the sense that I don’t recall having any thought about this certain subject in relation to you, at least not in a very long time. Its been more like I’ve just assumed the combo of our rapidly advancing ages, your aspirations, and our apparent contentment with being alone would make this an impossibility, so I haven’t even bothered to contemplate it. Yet, there you were, carrying my baby.

The first flash of you in such a state was of some intimate moment between the two of us, each laying on our sides, facing each other in a bed I didn’t recognize. We were naked, but it wasn’t a sexual thing. More so it was the comfortable nakedness that only two longtime lovers could share. We were laying there, simply talking, as our heads rested on our respective pillows. For some reason it was hard to take our eyes off of each other as we talked, maybe there was just no other place worth looking in our minimalistic themed bedroom? Or perhaps our respective faces were the best possible thing we could each imagine getting to drink in to start the day? I know for me, yours has always been better than a cup of coffee. Although, for you….I know you’d definitely choose your Morning Joe over my mug every single time. Nonetheless, drink we did.

The Saturday morning light sliced through a crack in our bedroom curtains and lit up your smile even more so than usual. Now, I don’t remember what inane topic we were babbling on about, but what is important is that as you smiled, I laughed, and while doing so I reached my left hand out and placed it on your side, resting on that smooth curve just below your ribs that leads ever so gracefully towards your hips. My fingers gently traced their way down your silky skin, and it was suddenly quiet, save for the chirping of some random bird in our backyard. You still looked into my eyes, you still smiled, but your topic of conversation had faded away into irrelevance, you placed your right hand on mine and gently moved it down towards your swollen navel.

“Feel her?” You said, “She’s kicking again, this one is gonna be fiesty.”
“So, just like her mom then?” I replied, with a smirk.
You nodded…

And then I awoke.

Voices

Day 7

Try as I might
To quieten the roar
the voices in my head
smashes through the doors.

To muzzle these voices
I must give up the fight.
Give up on love
If I’m to sleep tonight.

Give up on love?
I’d sooner face death
For a life without love
Is a life without breath.

So, these voices and I
shall continue this bout
for neither water, nor air, nor your love
will I survive without.

Final Exams : Because No One Deserves To Be Happy

Day 6
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This picture has been shared around a lot on Facebook. But from what I saw over the last week, I’ve realized that this is a gross misconception. The actual last five minutes (or the last thirty, in my case) were spent thusly:

ragecomic

I even tried asking one of the invigilators what was causing my fellow classmates to make such obvious physical effort in filling out the answers, while I was counting the number of fans on the ceiling. Perhaps there was some kind of a secret puzzle that had to be cracked in order to reveal another question or something. On the first day, I even tried putting all the letters of each line together to see if that would lead me somewhere, only to get “EDSHUI SSATPP MPPW”. How intriguing. It actually didn’t sound a whole lot different than the actual question they had asked, like “What is GQMWP?”

I finally decided that the most effective way to spend all my free time would be to take a quick nap. You’d understand my astonishment when everyone came out of the examination hall and told me that there was no time to finish writing everything they wanted to.

The way I see it, there are two possible explanations here. Either I’m selectively blind to some kind of invisible ink that they use to print the back of the question paper, or I’m just plain dumb. I’m not too sure about the invisible ink.

Anyway, that was a week ago, and then we went on to watch this random B-graded Hindi movie. After a week of not sleeping, you don’t usually care much for such things as quality when you select a movie. Plus, after this ordeal, my mind wanted something titillating.
But unfortunately for me, the one we went to watch got me worked up all the more. Rather than having actresses dance in the rain amidst a jungle, or censored impromptu sex scenes peppered adequately with flashes of cleavage, this one had some strong advice for the audience, delivered in typical Tamil-movie-style ; advice that no fresh-out-of-the-exam-hall college student wants to hear. Advice on the importance of education and studying hard.

Hope

Day 5

At times, hope is a double edged sword, consistently being parried and pushed back into you. Its finely honed edge deftly ripping you apart where you stand.

At times, hope becomes a dark sphere of bitterness, so full of resentment over its failure to come to fruition that you must crush it down into a tiny black ball of nothingness and hurl it out into the depths of the ocean that is life.

Yet somehow, even as you stand there, gazing out into the surf, pondering what you’ve thrown away, that little black ball of hope gradually makes it’s way back to you, rising and falling with each wave until it once again rests at your feet.

You can try once again to rid yourself of it by grasping this sphere of hope with both hands and smashing it upon the jagged rocks, ignoring your bloodied knuckles, endlessly dashing your hope into ever smaller pieces as the freezing water swirls around you.

Its simply something you must do. knowing its not healthy to hold onto these desires, knowing in your heart of hearts such dreams aren’t likely to become reality.

Yet, when you finally collapse into the sand, exhausted, certain you are rid of it, you’ll notice it’s all still there, intermingled with the sand, the seaweed, the rocks, and the surf are little pieces of that hope you once held dear.

You can never fully rid yourself of it.

Hope may change in form, you may even turn your back on it and deny it’s existence, you may trick yourself into believing that the clouds have parted and sun now shines upon you after so long spent in the darkness.

Yet, deep within you, hope still remains.