Med-school Chronicles

Chapter 1

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Reminiscence Post admission-starting first year

It’s a blur. Everything is happening at such a python pace. I lose track of time.

People. They are watching, liking to love or tending to wait and watch my every move, every curl of the lips, look in the eyes, tone of my voice and vibe of my being. They want to know more about me.Single syllables won’t do anymore. They want to know if I am as sane or insane as them. 
But for me it’s a blur. I am still anchored to my past. I am not over anything. People from my past. 
Those who paved several years of my life with me are too strongly etched in my thoughts to oblige further accommodation. It’s like my past is crying not to leave it unattended.Forgotten.
Yet before me a tower of future with an aura of unknown charm and mystery stands invincible.

Between working hard and meeting a deadline, between sleeping a fitful sleep and power-waking to a startling start, I still feel the pull. The soft voice of my memories. I want to run back into the arms of all things familiar and all beings familiar. Now a mere spectacle of anyone familiar shoots my thoughts to nostalgia. 
Just how much time makes one’s desire of relating to someone so much so strong, so dire, so longed? Gratitude to physical exhaustion, I give in to rest for many a while.

But what of the soul untended?

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Reminiscence First year mid-while

Life has accelerated to a pace, my contemplative mind has side-stepped the track. I haven’t had time to know whether I love it or not, but time has welded me to my university life. The murmur of past has muted to a whisper. But a pleasant whisper when heeded. The tumultuous winds of transition have slowed and I have come to grips with reality. 

It wasn’t that bad. 

Just way too different way too fast.

(|||)

Reminiscence End of First year

I have realized my internal coil. The self-grown tried and tested principals wound around it. And this entire year I had stuck to them. Transition does predispose one to change oneself and in the wake drift away into the noise of the universe. Resistance is potent. There was initial self-borne inertia and then the natural apprehension of other’s response. But the freedom of choice still lies with me. 

The question begged was:

Why introduce old principals, values and your opinions into seemingly perfect and brand new system?

The system is just about ideal to forgive you for sticking too hard to your core. 

Nobody will de-recognize you or condemn you. A new system calls for a new you- new to boot. 

But I decide unflinchingly just how deep the system must temper my coil. 

To the depth of principal tinkering? No. Period.

If I give in now I will have to give in for the rest of years. And I am not ready to alienate myself from my roots just yet. Not until I revise in lieu of a better principal. It makes me what I am today. Today I am the fruit with roots stretched far deeper the ground than my stem above it... 

Today I am met with a feeling that when my life will look straight into my eyes and say Another ride? 

I might heave wholesome and nod a Yes.