So what's the date today? 2nd of March, right? One of the advantages of being regular is that you are well oriented in time :P Which I find so difficult usually, that is, to remember the date and also, being regular to school. I AM well oriented in all time, space and person Alhamdulillah, I just don't regard knowing the dates that important. And yes, I am awesome like that! :P

I keep being struck by the settled depression on and off, the horrible feeling of being 'forever alone' is so difficult to deal with that it's not even under my control. One moment, I feel as if everything's fine and I am doing good, the next moment it becomes unbearably suffocating. Secondly, I am finding it impossible to keep up with my online tuition, I have to get up every morning by 4 a.m. And I could do that easily if I don't have school, but with school it seems almost unthinkable now. I have been teaching for about one and a half year and with school. I don't think I'd be able to be regular with my tuition on, by the time I get done, it's 7 a.m. - time for school. And I am practically SO tired by then that I literally have to drag myself to school. I guess, this is my test. And I hope I pass. But with Allah SWT's help.

Now, there's another twist, not a new one though. And I am SO much fed up of 'this' one, that I don't even want to talk about it. Mere mentioning of 'this' makes my head spin, my blood boil, my nerves wrecked and emotions destabilized. I just want to ask Allah SWT to settle everything before my head explodes or I have a nervous breakdown. I can't deal with 'this' anymore. I don't think I can.       

A Broken Warrior

I must record how I felt on my first day back to school. As now, I am to be a part of the sophomores enjoying being the new third year, that I was last year, it felt awkward. It was awkward but not necessarily bad. Or bad at all though sadness was the only feeling that I sensed myself filled with, surrounded by hopeful, cheerful, confused and excited juniors, greeting, meeting and reuniting with their friends after holidays, I felt the needlessness of my existence in that hall. I was not part of this picture. And would I ever be? I dunno. Anyways, the day began, I was welcomed in the van by one of my previous batchmates and one of my present batchmates as well, as for my old friend and colleague we smiled and shook hands and talked about how her finals went. Not very pleasant for me. Then, I was accompanied by the present batchmate to the Lecture Hall, I shall call her Squirrel from today onwards, as she's small and gullible yet smart. Like I said, few of the juniors who I knew were very glad to join me, for no other reason than I could be their guide through this roller coaster ride of a third year, also they know me well enough not to die of shyness or ego/pride (?) while greeting may be. Few being two. May be that's because my best friend's cousin is still visiting her family in Riyadh. Also, because I know, something is always better than nothing. Either way, I am prepared. I must confess even after all that complying stress from my friend that her cousin would be of help and I should hang out with her since I am stuck with juniors that I dun like, I am pretty much looking forward to not being part of her group. I don't know, I just feel like that.

Minutes before the first lecture started, one of my Survival Rules were challenged. Since, the other of the two present batchmates, let's call her Zany, who was sitting in the very first row of the second segment of seats, asked me to join her and insisted that everything will be alright, while I stood confused amidst aisles, trying to figure out should I let my guard down that I had on,in order to avoid any harmful contact with the teachers - I sat with her.

As I sat there, my heart kept pounding at a pace that was horribly slow yet panicky. The teacher arrived, to my delight it was CM's class. The teacher was none other than Dr. Fawwad. A student counselor and present day editor of the college magazine. Not to mention, knows me well. The fact that a reasonable person that she is, relieved me. But it was still awkward. Her gaze didn't affirm any recognition which was purely pretended, to not to make me feel uncomfortable, I assume. And I didn't, as per my resolve, answer any of her class questions except for the Autism one.The thing with me being nervous in interacting with teachers is that they remind me of the fact that I didn't deserve this, which stirs the settled distress, disappointment and rage. Also, the gaze in which I sense disappointment and sympathy. I don't like to be sympathized. As strange as this may sound, that's how I am like.

Second lecture was of Pharmacology, Professor Khaksaar (that's not his name, just my obnoxious way of referring to him :P) was there, with his hardly audible voice, messed up English and lots of Arabic translations of the names of the Pharmacological branches. Like Pharmacokinetics which was supposedly to be taught but wasn't, is Uroodal-Jismani-Haq-al Advia rather Harkiyat-ul-Advia, Pharmacodynamics means Tehrikat-ul-Advia and Toxicology is Zehar Unwani in Arabic. 0_0 How is that supposed to help us learn the subject? Was one thing echoing throughout that one hour lecture in which above mentioned Arabic translations and merely the definition of Pharmacology was dragged to be explained, and I'm not making this up. SERIOUSLY? I mean, it's a vast subject. And it's to be learned in a year only. Not enough time, Sir.

Then, we went to the Hospital. Where I found out that I was in the same group as Squirrel's. We were posted in Surgery ward. Since, I couldn't find my previous mentor, I went to the ward to take histories at my own. I collected few, showed Squirrel how was this supposed to be done. The next day, my previous mentor was accidentally encountered. And he was SO shocked, said I was the last person he could imagine in this situation. Inquired what led to this. And expressed his concern over the re-occurrence of such a thing and suggested to be vocal about this. I felt horrible, my popularity is actually being a curse. I just dun like being probed about something that I am already having difficulty in dealing with. I am already exceptionally sad. And wish I could disappear in thin air, whenever familiar faces are encountered.

They say time heals. I just wish it passes a little more faster than it usually does.

Return Of the Caterpillar

So it has been an amazing amount of time, since this poor corner of blogistan was given any attention. Why was this being ignored? I think, I had better things to do than to sit and pour my extremely mediocre thoughts on a pretty secluded and audience-less blog. But today, I could use that.

A little scenario is due. Since, I will be repeating third year of the course which I had taken up at college. This year, which should have been technically my 4th year of the course because of some reasons which don't make any sense other than this was 'planned' like that, may be, I will be staying behind and repeating the last year's subjects. Which means I am to face three things: firstly. my friends and my batch mates have all been promoted to the next level, secondly, I am to study the same books and bear the same teachers at least for this year and thirdly, on top of everything, I am stuck with the juniors who I don't really like for the rest of my time at school. :(

But I am a wise girl. At least this is the impression, that everyone who knows me, has of me. Tragedy is that I am not. I just pretend to be, and that just makes things worse. I have been numbing my brain for past couple of days to not to imagine the horrible-ness of what I have let happen to myself minus very obvious socio-environmental factors. And I am talking about the 'causes' that led to such a devastating consequence not about the 'super amoral powers' that could have successfully prevented it. I didn't think about how I am going to deal with the same teachers, some of whom fall under we-know-you're-smart-we're-so-dissappointed category and others are we-expect-your-face-to-be-here-for-a-single-year-only. Awkward and embarrassing. Not to mention, I have been favorably famous as a good student from day one at my school and all my teachers even those who have left school, if encountered by any of my batch mates, always ask about me. Hence, I wouldn't be excused of the lime light that easily. And it's going to be a little tough answering questions, the answers to which I dun really know. In my head, this has been my fault. I let this happen to myself. In my friends' heads, it's a trend, a setup, my fault could have hardly comprised 25% of the whole 'mess-up'. I dun want to believe in problems that I cannot fix. The solutions are harder to find. Doesn't make sense to me. So, I doubt if anybody could imagine the pain of the in-my-head thoughtful regret driven lashings that I have been giving myself since the curse manifested itself. I am bleeding and I am bruised. But I know, with Allah SWT's help, I can fix this.

I am not that weak, I have been through a lot of situations and this one is nothing compared to them. I know, it's fixable. I know, repeating could help me become better at my profession than most of my friends.It's good for me academically and long-run wise. I know that losing a year is nothing, time's already flying by. I know, that my decision to not to comply for something that could have saved me from all of this trouble, was the right thing to do. But I feel low and less energetic rather energy-less. I am finding it so very difficult to be patient. I have lost my confidence, my self-esteem is down. I am scared. I am anxious. I am nervous. And I feel like crying.

In an hour, I leave for my school, the commencement of the classes for the new third year is today, the 6th of February 2012. Being famous, I know a couple of juniors, who are very kind to me and respect me. They dun doubt my eligibility as I do, I guess, no one does. Last night, I had a disturbed sleep, nightmares of exams, being chased down by the teachers and again becoming victim of what has happened already. This happens only when I am extremely stressed out. Even though the earthquake has ended. Reverberations? Repercussions? Rehabilitation? I am worried. I can't deny that. But I hope I get out of this alive. InshaAllah. :s

To ensure my survival, I have come up with some rules to negate some of my previous behaviors, in order to avoid any mishappenings.

* Don't stand out in the class.

* Don't answer the questions.

* Never sit in front rows.

* No revolutionizing.

* Interact as little as possible.

* Don't get involved in other people's messes. You're no Samurai.

* Don't let HOD's know, you're there at least till the first stage has taken place.

* Spend more time in the library with books.

* Don't see your old friends, you're gonna feel miserable and unhappy which you're already anyways (you dun accept it, but you are...)

* Study, study, study and study.

Wish me luck.

Lessons Learnt This Week

(A series of "events"can change your thinking pattern -- can be labelled as "Personality Transformers". Your immune system puts up a fight against them because these PT's are foreign bodies and are actually opposite of what you had learnt and wanted to be like all your life.)


Lesson no 1:
Stop being nice and revolutionary. Avoid social work at all costs. Intentions no matter how well, mean nothing to most of the people. Leave them at their own.You have got your own problems to solve.


Lesson no 2:
Never get so angry that you shout back. Your pharynx isn't used to of this kinda of stretch muscle behavior and you are more prone to pharyngitis and recurrent regretitis than those who started the yell-at-you part.


Lesson no 3:
[Patients tend to lie (without any reason), that's what I've had all my fellows say, but I don't like judging people that's not my job -- unless there is a strong reason for it.]
You are headstrong and people don't like it when you insist on what you believe.


Lesson no 4:
In Pharma Lab, always drag mouse by its tail. Always roll up your sleeves while doing so. And if it twitches while you are holding its neck with the help of your thumb and index finger and its tail wrapped around your pinky -- remember not to throw it at your friend next time.


Lesson no 5:
Always carry your papersoap and disinfectant with you and NEVER use spirit to disinfect. Even the thought of its smell is capable of making you vomit.


Lesson no 6:
Listen to Richmish. Her suggestions though might sound rude and insensitive most of the times, are actually quite sensible. And keeps you on the safe side. (OH!You have NO idea how heartbreaking this discovery and acknowledgement is :P)

Hmm...for a lot of time, I have been trying to think of ways to avenge my Van Driver's brutalities against myself but I keep forgetting about it - until every morning. I have found myself and my van mates very creative when it comes to inventing names. Like, I remember, two years back we had a van wala who used to wear that freddy-like cap, so we referred to him (amongst ourselves of course) as Uncle Nightmare. Then, there was this other driver who had serious staring problems -- he was rightfully labelled as Uncle Taardhoo the other day .There was also an uncle who was as little as Lord Farquaad of Shrek -- I dunno why but soon he was entitled as Habibi. May be that had something to do with his shaikh styled goatee. So yes, that's kind of our tradition. Now, I do remember some of us discussing what could we call the present one while lamenting at his brutalities against us - the unarmed students. 0:) I guess that thought just evaporated everybody's mind not just mine. But today, I managed to ink it before it could disappear into nothingness. I think we can call him the Deadly Commando - the Spartan King of Today.

Now, Uncle Spartan must have been either a court martialled fauji or a reincarnated punctual Nazi or may be he is simply possessed by some grudging gora spirit. He could be a ROBOT too as everything he does is so calculated and accurate that there's no chance of him failing to achieve his target. For him success could be defined as 'getting to college the earliest'. And people who mess with his target, like pose potential threats in his way to success (Stop! pointing your fingers at me!! What about Sana, eh?) are either tagged as 'shout -ats' or preferably 'leave-them-at-their-doorsteps' aka 'make-them-miss-their-school' types by gracious Uncle Spartan. And, yes I have been pretty much honored as being tagged as both. He is also ultra sensitive for how his van gets treated. Now, you must have gotten the hint that Commando Sahab is VERY serious about time .....I mean he is NEVER late, not even a minute - he could come early but NEVER late. And I shall stop here -- I dunno if this pretty controlled description has entered into the Gheebat territory. So I'll just let it evaporate.

I guess that would be it. :)