After School To College

It felt like the first day of school all over again. There wasn't a single familiar face.



Only a little different. I wasn't six. I was nineteen. I wasn't the shortest. I was one of the shortest.



I wore glasses. I had longer hair. And I was very nervous.



Nothing new really.



My scenario? I was in my first day in a new college, new surroundings. I was entering a building filled with intellectuals, who might have created first-class working models for science fairs, and people who might be able to do calculus in their sleep. The only credit in my portfolio was a 'nerd' label that I had carried faithfully through my school years. I might be the only person in this college who would know the difference between a nerd and an intellectual. Oh well. At least I am good that way.



Sitting in my bench and watching people interact, I was lost as ever. These people were talking to each other as if they had known each other for their lives. Me, I was lost as always, adrift in my world of loneliness. I never had the courage to go up to people and talk. I had, in the language of science, high amount of inertia of mass. It was so hard for me to get started.



But I know if I don't make a start I wouldn't reach anywhere. I know.



So gathering up all my courage, like pieces of paper scattered on a wet floor, I stood on shaky legs, and assuming a confident stance, looked around to see whom I could antagonize. Okay, there were two girls standing near the window, and from where I had a vantage point, they were just warming up.



I breezed towards them. "Hi," I said, pasting a smile on my frozen face.



The two girls turned to me. Like normal, they had a curious look on this unexpected stranger.



"May I join you?" I asked politely.



One of them stifled a snigger. I cringed mentally. My tendency to be polite comes out unexpectedly, especially in front of people who don't expect it and people who don't deserve it.



Behavioural science. I should have taken that instead of engineering. At least I could talk to people without making a mess.



The other girl inclined her head, but she was also fighting a smile. Or was I just imagining it and becoming edgy?



"My name is Annie," I said, alternating eye between both of them. "What are yours?" Am I being too direct?



I waited patiently for them to recover the thread of their thoughts. "My name's Tressa," the one who sniggered said.



"And I am Isha," the other girl said, with a small smile. "So where are you from?"



"Muscat," I said, and as expected, got round-eyed stares and then a second later, raised eyebrows. Typical NRI reception. "What about you?"



"Oh, we are locals," the first girl said, before the second girl could reply. Now it was my turn to raise my eyebrows.



"Well, I do know my places," I lied, putting a confident expression on my rigid face. Then I smiled and nodded as each of the girls told

me the names of the places. They could have been from Greece or the middle of the Indian Ocean as far as I know.



The first girl wore a knowing smile on her face. I recognized that expression all too well. It was the satisfied expression, the result of careful stereotype, the arrogance of the people who think their first impression of a person had been confirmed. She had probably clubbed me as a selfish, self-obsessed, mannerless, rich Indian who had spent her life out of India, clueless about Indian culture and tradition. Also, I think she had hedged that I had no idea of the places they had just uttered.



Then the following conversation started.



"Hey, did you see that episode from 'Big Bang Theory'? "



"Uh.." I was sidetracked. What were they talking about?



"Oh, man, I nearly killed myself laughing. Sheldon...." And both of them burst laughing.



Big Bang Theory...I had watched a few episodes. Before I could utter another word, however.



"....and then Penny nearly killed him! That reminds me, in 'Friends',"



"Oh man, that was a killer!"



What the hell was a killer? I had no idea what they were talking about! Before I could open my mouth, however.



"Hell, I hate that guy. But he is nothing compared to Dave!"



"I know right!"



Now who is Dave? Should I ask them or just play along? Before I could make up my mind, however.



"Oh, 'How I met your mother' is replaying again on Star World," I couldn't believe my eyes. It was a guy, who was standing nearby.



I literally had a heart attack. Was that serial so interesting that guys had started leaving football games and watching it?



But the two girls were oblivious to this flipping of stereotype. "I already watched all the episodes in YouTube." Isha tipped an imaginary hat to both Tressa and the guy who were both looking at her, wonderstruck.



"You saw Episode 121?" Tressa nearly became a bat with her high pitch shrill.



"I did," Isha said smugly. I would have sounded like that if I had topped in all my subjects in school.



"The story, the story!" Tressa grabbed the hand of her future best friend who she had met less than an hour ago.



Isha started her narrative. The new arrival and Tressa were hanging on to her every word. I listened for a while, a sinking feeling in my stomach, a weird sense of deja vu. Finally I could take no more listening to what was Greek and Latin to me. I went back to my seat and settled to observing the people around me, meeting others and talking to them, estabilishing relationships. Why are people interested in talking about serials I don't even know about when I am around?



In school, it was the same scenario. It was some serial or the other which excluded me out of the conversation. Or an actor's recent marriage. The latest cine news. Events from tuition classes I don't go to. Stuff to which nobody is interesting in giving a novice like me background information so that I would know what is going on.



It's like a huge vaccum gap, between me and the rest of the world. I couldn't converse with a group of people without feeling awkward. I couldn't even get a word sideways. It was as if I was as invisible as air.



I thought I had left this demon in school. I thought I could make a fresh start in college. How wrong I was. This demon is not a type that would fade within a second, or by moving places.



I think I am bound to this demon with chains. Made of cast iron. Welded nice and tight.



And now what happened to school is going to happen to me in college. Total alienation. Totally out of place. Totally alone.



I folded my hands on my lap, and twisted my fingers, observing my peers and trying to gather my courage for another stab at conversation.



This is going to be my state for the four years I am going to study here. And like it or not, I am probably not going to be able to do anything about it. Pathetic.