When I first left home for hostel at the age of seventeen, it was very difficult. I wanted to run away back home. I would cry when my father would go back after meeting me. I didn’t have many friends either. It was one of the toughest phases of my life. It took me almost a year to settle, accept, and adapt to hostel life.
Fast forward four years and I am in another hostel. I had been at home for the past fifteen months, so I had expected it would be a little difficult going back. Thankfully, it wasn’t. I am rather surprised how I could get used to and settle rather quickly. Reflecting upon my old hostel days, I just realize that I have grown up. The problems are the same but I have cultivated some maturity to focus on the things that matter. I have set my schedules and stick to them. I don’t care what the others think. I go on with my life as I want to. Maybe this seems to be very easy because I have undergone tough times earlier.
I am not at a great institute and miss my previous one. But I was emotionally and mentally prepared for this and that is what I kept preparing myself for since the past one month. The problems here are quite evident and they do disturb me. But I do not feel connected to this place either. My classes begin next week and I hope I find good professors who can guide me. I am here to take the best out of everything I can. I am not focusing on anything that will not matter in the future. I am here to fulfill bigger dreams and achieve greater goals.
I am grateful to god for giving me the strength to deal with all these challenges. They have made me stronger and helped me nurture my inner self. It is a bad world and it is quintessential to be strong enough to face them all. I pray and hope that I may continue to be dauntless throughout this tumultuous journey.
I have always had problems with scolding as a form of negative reinforcement. Contrary to popular belief that it is important to admonish if someone commits a mistake, I believe there are more patient ways to deal with an errant child, student, or any person.
Scolding does not deter people from repeating the same mistakes. It will only ensure that they will not let you know whenever it is repeated. There have to be discussions, maybe elaborate ones so that they understand where they went wrong and why they should not repeat it. Reprimanding might avoid the recurrence of the error, but it might be out of fear more than realization. It is a common tactic used by many people when it is difficult to console someone who is depressed. When initial consolation does not help much, they speak rather rudely or harshly so that the person is forced to become ‘alright’ again. I fail to understand what purpose does it serve, except instilling fear, dislike, and sometimes even hatred.
On a personal note, I thought of this today because someone I love a lot scolded me a lot yesterday. I do not doubt his intentions and I am aware that he has my best interests at heart. But words, like accidents, leave scars. A few days from now, that conversation will not matter anymore; but I will never be able to forget the harsh words he told me. I will think twice before letting him know when something happens because I will be reminded of this day. I will prefer dying to hearing such hurtful things again.
I think of my father and how patiently he handles me. I trouble him the most, but not for once have I seen him lose his temper with me. He explains things to me over and over again, giving me hope when I least expect it. He has never scolded me for being sad. I feel so grateful to him for all his affection, love, and most importantly, patience.
Scolding is not the right thing to do, especially when someone is depressed. It does not help. Please do not take it up as a tactic or anything else. If someone seems inconsolable, please be a little more sensitive and try again. And if you have lost patience, give up. But don’t get mad at people for being upset, sad or depressed. Don’t be rude or harsh because people are more vulnerable during their worst days. Maybe they need some more time. Your words can harm as well as heal; please don’t do more harm than good.
Signing off with this pearl of wisdom from Dumbledore:
I was in the middle of a very sad post here when I randomly checked my Facebook. There was a notification. One of my favourite people in the world tagged me in a post he shared, for the first time ever. It made me feel better and I deleted the sad post.
Was it god’s signal that a miracle is still possible? That this is not the end of the world and things might get better? I don’t know. Maybe something good is just around the corner, waiting for the traffic to clear. Hope it comes soon.
It is perhaps one of the biggest ironies that we have no say in deciding our own name- something that remains our biggest identity throughout our life. I feel bad for those who don’t like their own name. I’ve often felt we must be assigned temporary names upon birth. It should be a practice for everyone to change one’s name as per one’s OWN choice upon attaining adulthood. If you like your name, you keep it. If not, fashion yourself a lovely new one and change it!
Firstly, my name has got nine letters that makes it too long. It’s complex and has got many syllables. I wonder how old was I when I could pronounce it correctly myself! It must have taken me ages. The length also implies that I’ve hardly found people who spell it correctly at the first instance (despite the fact that I was named after a celebrity and I spell it the same way as her). I mean, you read her name every other day in the papers and everywhere else- how can you get it wrong? It’s a rather common name. I feel a surge of affection every time somebody gets my full name write (my last name causes more spelling blunders, but let’s not digress and stick to my name for today).
My name means wealth or prosperity. Maybe my mother thought I’d be lucky for them and bring in lots of both. But that’s not been the case and honestly, I have never felt the pressure to live up to it either. I think we should be named based upon our personalities, celebrating the good in each of us. Everyone has certain good qualities, why not use it as a name? It’s like all paying you a compliment every time they address you! Also, you feel obliged to live up to the name.
So I’ve found a new name for myself- Mishti. This is a Bengali word that means sweet or sweetness. It’s such a lovely name and also suits my personality. I’ve realized it is also very pleasing to hear. I can’t get over it! I love writing letters and like to imagine signing them off as Mishti.
Imagine being huddled in a corner of a room, sad about everything that’s going around you. Those times when you’d give anything in the world to run away to a distant land where nobody knows you; you’d be perfectly fine to live alone than endure the torture you’re undergoing right now. Suddenly, your phone lights up- you’re getting a call. Your screen shows the picture of the one you love the most in the world and your heart does a somersault!
Although you might not be able to share exactly how you feel, how soothing does their voice sound! Even if you’re talking about the most random stuff, you hardly realize that you’re smiling and laughing now- well, weren’t you on the verge of crying minutes ago? It is strange how some people are so magical; they don’t have a magic wand but they can just set everything right. It is astonishing how it comes so naturally and effortlessly to them, merely by virtue of their being. They help you get up again after every fall. They keep you going.
And then you know that not all angels have wings and that there is indeed something called magic! They’ll always help you fight the Dementors. Expecto Patronum!