..End of year one..

Often people look back an say 'Hey, it wasn't so bad at all'. My thoughts are slightly different; 'Down with the fucking bastards. Rot and burn in hell and i hope the devil farts in your face while you're at it.'(apologies but one needs to be informal for that impact). I have to admit the year has passed rather quickly. I had heard that days spent in jail are long and painful, so i am naturally surprised here. But i guess the pain made up for it. 

I have never in my life seen such incompetence, irrationality, arrogance and lack of organisation. Except ofcource in the government ID card office. The same lack of interest in the work being done, the same unexplained arrogance. Like a clerk who is over-worked and under-paid. I still don't get where the arrogance comes from. I have to admit, the college is teaching us how to face the world because this is what the world is like. Suddenly there is a serious deficiency of air conditioners, everyone is unnecesarily rude to you, you have to stand in line for everything and, most importantly, nobody gives a shit.

I remember the first week so well. The first two days went by with a general excitement that comes with new things. I was prepared to put everything behind me and take Kinnaird up as a challenge. I wore a constant smile, ignoring the shit thrown my way. On the third day came the realisation. It struck me like a knockout punch from a heavy weight boxer who had a special reason to be mad at me. Four years. Four years. Four years.

I will never foget the day i sat near the fountain and cried like the sky was falling. The free bird had to wait a little longer. I just sat and watched from behind the big iron locks with rude guards patrolling and unneccesary rules to keep you in line. This couldn't be right. Couldn't be.

Rules. rules. rules. For every move i made, every word i said, every turn i took. Teachers telling you what to wear, guards telling you where to sit and where to go, aunties telling you what to eat and where to eat it. I was in grade school again. A frown here and an abuse under the breath there and all was fine. Every day i went home thinking 'I won't come tomorrow'. I did though.

I passed the first semester with 3A's, 1B and 1C. Grandma called from pindi, Khala from peshawar, to congratulate me on my great achievements. All I had achieved was a trophy for using 1 brain cell and still passing everything. I just waited for inspiration to come.

I must be blind for I fail to see the bright side. First year is over and i'm at home, knitting mufflers. I'm wishing to attend art lessons but the decision now neatly lies in my Dad's file of all things his daughter isn't allowed to do. *smirk* i'll have my way one day.

" Nobody said it was easy. No one ever said it would be so hard"