Dear
Reader,
This is a story which I wrote for The Crowded Patio. It's for the
Voices section, which revolves around philosophy, opinionating, and learning.
You may read it here: http://thecrowdedpatio.com/wander-like-cloud/
As I walked out of my house to attend the first day of a new year
at college, I thought about a hundred others who were doing the same. It was as
if most Puneites were stepping out of their comfort zones, into a multi-ethnic
atmosphere where some of us would probably fit in easily, while the rest of us
would be wandering. Me? I chose to wander, not because I’m a misfit, but
because I like to observe others before associating myself with them.
Walking into college early, I patiently waited near the staircase
for a few familiar faces. During the wait, I carefully observed those who
appeared to be involved in something more intense; something which I wasn’t a
part of- socializing. All of them had stepped out of their comfort zone, into
an atmosphere where they wanted to be accepted. It appeared to me as if
standing without a group, for them, meant social suicide.
Searching eyes adorned their lost faces. They were looking
out for a world where they would meet people of their kind. Fidgety fingers and
cracking knuckles showed their restlessness and their desire to be in a place
away from their current company. While their group engaged in a whole hearted
conversation about the previous night’s “adventures”, they reflected the
expressions of the speaker, only duller and less enthusiastic. Others just
stood amidst groups, listening, while they were engrossed in using their teeth
to level their nails. I went on to ponder about the use of biting one and a
half centimeter ‘long’ nails, in public.
My chain of thought was interrupted when I noticed a girl walking
out of the elevator, her face festooned with a lost expression. Lost in
thought, lost without company, and lost within herself. Her wandering eyes were
in desperate search for some company. Drifting across the corridor, her eyes
caught sight of me, observing her closely. Without giving myself away, I
quickly smiled at her and waved politely. She did the same and continued her
search. Her eyes lit up for a fraction of a second when she spotted her
mates standing on the other side of the corridor. On the short journey to her
destination, she ran her fingers through her hair, cracked her knuckles, and
looked down at her feet a few times. Her hesitant eyes were continuously trying
to catch others looking at her, and her face exhibited a constant expression of
uncertainty, both about herself and everything else around her.
Since her friends were absorbed in discussing something seemingly
more controversial, they didn’t take notice of her arrival. Nonetheless, she
stood with them, turning around occasionally with those shifting eyes,
searching for somebody else to talk to. Occasionally, she would interject in
the conversation with expressions that were possibly suited to the discussion,
but didn’t seem to have much of a favourable reaction. But most of the time,
she just stood, listened, while she observed the other friends in her group,
their clothes and their body language. She would give a faint smile to avoid
the awkwardness when she accidently made eye contact with one of them. Unlike
the others, she seemed out of place, uncomfortable, and self conscious. I could
imagine her at a party, watching people have fun while she’d try to mask the
immense boredom arising from the burden and torture of socializing with an
expression that suggested condescension.
Even during the lunch break, her behavior was unchanged. Meek
attempts of interaction were made by her, while she followed her group, in
hopes that someone would turn around and reciprocate. That was when I lost
sight of her and caught sight of something more interesting. In college, we
were all new. I noted how someone who hadn’t quite found themselves a proper
set of friends, would fake smiles and kill a few minutes with strangers, just
so that they would not have to bear with the discomfort of lunching alone. They
would then abruptly stand up, and stroll off. I wondered where they went
because wherever their Secret Garden was, they seemed to be happier after the
lunch break, when it was time for class.
I also noticed how a lot of people out of their comfort zone
chose the easy way out and sat with familiar acquaintances. When I saw the
quiet person in the not-very-quiet group, I laughed, and thought about how
there’s always that one person in that one group who’s nothing like them, and
nobody knows why they’re even there. Yet, their group seems to be fond of them,
and they rejoice the appreciation, while they slowly and proudly make their
best efforts to turn into one of them.
I noticed that the extremely self-conscious ones showed their
discomfort simply through their body language. It wasn’t difficult to
understand their thought process. It just required some attentive observing or
sympathy, if anyone had been in their place at some point in their life. Their
slouching shoulders, hesitant actions, vague expressions and highly
uncomfortable way of walking because they’re conscious of the way others
perceive them, gave them away. They seemed to be constantly cowed down by
everyone around them. Watching their vacant expressions during the non-class
hours when everyone was mixing around compelled me to study how others
perceived them.
I saw a few pitiful faces, glancing every now and then in the poor
victim’s direction, to see what they were engaged in. I saw some empathizing
expressions on the faces of all the uncomfortable ones in groups, turning
around, just to look at their kind without having any eye contact with them,
and then walking off from their respective group, only to spend a while with
themselves in an unengaged part of the balcony. However, most of the people
were indifferent towards them. They continued their discussions or whichever
activities they were preoccupied with, barely looking away to notice the ones
who were lurking off to the balcony. I too found some space there, where I sat,
listening to ‘Yellow Submarine’ by The Beatles and continued to observe
everybody.
The nonchalant expressions provoked me to think: People are too
busy living their life and fulfilling their dreams to even take a glimpse of
those who are still struggling. Were they utterly selfish and self centered or
did they have too much to cope with which didn’t give them time to think about
others? The struggles were the bumpy rides on the unfinished roads of life.
Sometimes, the road would be so inhospitable, that its ditches would harm the
journeymen, and leave them stranded. Yet, most people would carry on, just to
reach the smooth end which they thought, would continue for eternity. The
stranded ones would have to pick themselves up, make everything right, and move
on, even though they lied behind the rest. If they were lucky, a few passersby
would reach out to help them. Otherwise, they would be stuck in the dark ditch
forever, envying those who were able move on and eventually hit the smooth
road. However, the ones who succeeded despite the unpleasant circumstances and
being behind the rest, would have gained something the quick achievers wouldn’t
have; which would ultimately make them the happier ones: the immense experience
of rebuilding themselves. Those would be the moments that they would look back
at, with moist eyes. It would make them realize how much they’ve grown, and how
they’ve come out as a better person.
As the day got over and I was heading home, I thought that a day
would come soon, when everyone would find the sort of people they were looking
for, and everything would be at peace. There would be no wandering eyes or
itinerant souls; there would be no confused faces, drooping shoulders and
tensed bodies. Everyone would fit right in. Those thoughts were the only
streak of optimism that day. I wandered, observed, and contemplated. I realized
that I knew myself and my batch mates much better than I did twenty four hours
ago. I understood J.R. R Tolkein’s words much better by then, “All that is gold
does not glitter, not all those who wander are lost.”
With
Love.
