A world waiting to be explored

Aye Aye Professor!

I stood on the podium in front of vacant benches forming steps and aligned in a semicircular fashion. In full capacity, the room housed around 200 students. And that was the sight I procured maximum utility from. On other days, I'll talk to the students, scribble on the huge green-board, think of multiple worlds together and push our thoughts to attain 0% cohesion. I always thought they had much more to teach me than I could teach them, after all there were 200 minds against one of mine. But whatever statistics lead to, the pin drop silence when I spoke always testified that my students thought otherwise.

This place has had me for 3 months now. During the day, the academic block is one of place most frequented in a university. Though my cabin is on the other side of the campus, so I have to take a long walk to reach here except the times when I flex my thigh muscles on a bicycle. I begin my lectures by talking about the thing that held a little more than an ounce of my attention en route the academic building. To see their mouths gap in amazement made me wonder how many different ways can the same pair of eyes see the same campus?

Today, however, is different. This vacant classroom induces a strange void in me. Absence can be very conducive to change. For the first time in my career, I wrote more than I spoke. The green-board became witness to a story I put down after a long long time. It took a lot of other paraphernalia to reach the corners of the board which usually went uncharted. However, at the end of it, the board had no more room and it took a fair share of my classroom time to read through it. That ensured my students wouldn't have a class wasted if I didn't turn up in my next lecture. Half the time would be spent reading the story, rest half in amazement and amusement of watching the board scribbled all over.

I wrote about a guy who enjoyed his sports and played violin until he realized that his calling lay in wandering and learning about folks who lived in the other part of the world. This was a euphemistic account of what I was. And this was the maximum I talked about myself in a decade. The story was anonymous, firstly, because I was writing about myself and secondly, because people form perceptions based on the past.

Amidst my intertwining thoughts and sense of wonder, the bell boy rang the bell. I am sure he knew there were going to be no classes today. Not many people in this world like changes. And that's what I try to do - subject them to changes. Next time when this batch of 200 enters the classroom, they're going to experience this.

There's gonna come a time when they'll realize changes are good. That's the most inspirational thing someone's ever said on a deathbed. My mother had the heart to make me look forward in the face of adversities. I came a long way since she fueled me moments before her final call came.

Though not all changes are good and my moist eyes are a testimony to that, not all changes are good.


  1. Superbly put forth.

    Changes are good but not all changes are good. :-) :-)

  2. Very well written
    Keep it up

    1. Thank you! :)
      I hope you are following up on this thread. Do you mind shedding your mask for me? ;)


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