I picked up the blog pen again!

My bottom was numb. I was sitting motionless on the cold stainless steel stool from the past one hour. But my brain was hyperactive with a hundred thoughts hitting me at the same time. I could see my identity card clipped on to my soiled apron making a tiny leap every time my heart ejected and got filled. I was almost hyperventilating. It felt like somebody had put a hand into my abdomen and was churning and knotting my intestines. I was dizzy with glee and nervousness. And I used to think only romance could do this.

In not more than an hour my 2nd MBBS would get over. My last viva and I could grow my wings again. Only 272 still, 10 more people to go. I could relax for a while. My mind drifted to how I had spent the last few days of my teenage. The one week hostel confinement because of the curfew, third sessional, the very forgettable volleyball tournament, preparatory holidays, the break downs and of course the terror-1 month long university exams.

“Oh this is nothing. Wait till you get to final year.” I hate it whole heartedly when people belittle my emotion. Final year might be something else but I am writing this exam for the first time in my life and it is BIG for me and for anybody else who is writing it for the first time.

Last 2 months have been the longest months from as long as I can remember. I had never been so stressed out. I could not hang in there. I could not see the light. The tunnel was never ending. It seemed like falling into a bottomless pit. I just wanted to land or maybe even just crash. Gracefully, ungracefully, on all fours, on my butt, I did not care. The preparatory holidays are unpleasant, to say the least. I have had more coffee in these prep holidays than my entire consumption in 20 years. I developed gastritis.

It was particularly bad for Micro paper 2. I hadn’t slept for two days straight. Even earlier, it was not more than 2-3hours/day. All the deprivation cumulated and showed up. I was sleepy, neuroglucopenic symptoms were showing. I could not answer 10 mcqs in a row. I calculated if I could cross the border. I sat back and wondered if things could get any worse. This is just another test that thousands have passed, I tried to tell myself. This too shall pass. But ‘When’ was the big question. I got out of the hall and I was throwing up.

The day I finished my theory exams I came back to my room and with full vengeance I ripped off all the post it notes from my wall, except the tiny rectangular fluorescent pink one which read this quote by Benjamin Franklin. “Energy and persistence conquer all things.”

279. Phew! Almost there. Few more minutes for my turn. But why am I this nervous? I have crossed so many hurdles, this is the last… Maybe because I hadn’t read anything at all the previous day. I was too happy to do anything. A friend and I were struggling real hard to stay with the books. During one of our ‘short’ breaks we decided to watch the recorded CD of this year’s interclass. Interclass is our annual inter batch college festival. It goes on for a month and they are some of the best days of every KMCite’s life.

I wanted to see how badly I had embarrassed myself. I had taken part in the fashion show. I simply wanted to be a part of as many things as I could. Keeping busy crowds out worry from the head and I precisely wanted to do that. Fashion show in our college is a blog topic. There are innumerable fights, politics to be a part of it. It is hugely popular with the staff and students. Our one month fest ends with this. Like they say, save the best for the last or whatever. More than half of the funds are spent for it. It is a mindless extravaganza. Most people are air headed pigs. But I wanted to be in it. For the heck of it. The auditions were great fun. Forget about being my natural self, I don’t do a single thing right when I am being watched. So my friends were amused when I started walking. I myself was surprised that my super self consciousness hadn’t taken over yet. So far so good. I had reached the end of the ramp. I had to turn and get back. How the hell are you supposed to turn gracefully? I flipped my hair and struck a pose. I was extremely sure if I was in the audience watching any of my friends do this I would have poked fun for atleast a week. Still they were there cheering for me. I got selected.

The actual show was a big chaos. Few girls took the initiative. We did not have a choreographer. We were short of funds. Even the props could not be hired. So it was just us. The girls were acting like they had conducted Lakme fashion weeks earlier. My favourite timepass as always is to sit behind, comment and not do anything productive at all. They were all wearing sexy halter necks, tube tops, flowing elegant frocks and I was this Arab girl who had to wear the belly dance costume stitched by this local tailor who doesn’t do a good job even with something as simple as our aprons. I don’t know why I agreed in the first place. That wasn’t all. At the end of the ramp I had to do this Arabic jig with a tambourine. I knew I was the scape goat.

On the stage, adrenaline dazed me. The cat calls, the batchmates cheering hysterically, the spot lights, all the attention.. It was awesome! I could understand what the big deal was about. I thoroughly enjoyed it although I felt like I was in fancy dress more than a fashion show. At the end there was a model introduction round. I had to walk with this 6 footer who is quite popular. More cat calls, more cheering. I was smiling this time and I did not bother how I looked or walked. I enjoyed the moment, went to the rest room and flung my trinkets.

The CD got stuck. We got back to books. I am still the butt of my room mate’s ‘fashion show jokes’. So that was how the last evening was spent.

282! Here I go.

Now it is a wonderful luxury to sleep without having to keep an alarm. Spirits are soaring high! Feels like my life has just begun.