The First-Year Student

Time Stamp: 30-01-2025, 6:45 PM

Before I walked into the department, I already knew the weirdness waiting for me. It wasn’t a mystery. I had been here once before, during my undergraduation. But after that, despite visited the campus few times, I made a conscious choice to stay away. I had my reasons.

But things don’t always go as planned. And I never quite understood the grander scheme of things. Life has a way of twisting the paths we pave so carefully, leading us to places which we never intended. And so, here I am, back in this department when I least expected it.

There are n number of reasons why I never wanted to step in here again without a proper answer of what I am doing?. But now, after 124 days of my post-graduation,sitting here thinking about it makes me feel. Is it even relevant to write about that strangeness? I still wonder.

The moment I entered, the air around me shifted. I could feel it. This wasn’t going to be easy. N number of eyes dissected my every movement—analysing, scrutinizing, judging. Their gaze followed my walk, my talk, my body language. It felt as if they knew more about me than I knew about them. The silent jury of seniors had already passed their verdict.

The first 30 days of my post-graduation were nothing short of hell. Not just because of what was happening in the department, but because of what was happening within me. My own inhibitions suffocated me—the things I saw, the words I overheard, the thoughts that spiralled endlessly in my head. My emotions, my beliefs, my very perception of myself felt distorted, trapped in an unfamiliar reality.

Paranoia crept in like an uninvited guest. My own mind wove a suffocating cocoon of doubts and anxieties. The breaking point arrived, sharp and sudden. After years of holding back, I cried. And surprisingly, it felt good. A fleeting moment of relief in the storm. For that, I am grateful.

My thoughts twisted around absurd yet inescapable realities: my junior was my super senior, my classmate was now my senior lecturer, my junior’s friend’s wife was my superior. The web of hierarchies entangled me, and every day, I was forced to answer the same relentless question—Why now? The silent judgment was deafening. I had no choice but to listen in silence.

On one side, I was battling my own thoughts. On the other, some seniors found amusement in making my days harder under the pretense of authority. And then there were my old UG classmates—constantly messaging, their curiosity sharp as knives: How does it feel to be a student when your classmate is a staff member?

It took me a long time to break free from the suffocating comfort of my own carefully constructed thoughts. The walls I had built so intricately around myself now needed to be torn down, brick by brick. But how do you erase years of internalized beliefs and replace them with new rules? New norms? A new hierarchy?

I kept myself busy, but no matter how much I tried, the bigger war raged within me—the struggle of adaptation. The realization hit hard: This is a women’s college, and here, drama reigns supreme.

I told myself to focus on the present, to let go of the past. But how do you move forward when every single day drags you back? Every conversation was a minefield of the past, forcing me to relive it in loops. And yet, I couldn’t live as I had in my UG days. The present wouldn’t allow it. The past wouldn’t release me. I was stuck in the in-between.

I knew the problem. But the solution? That remained elusive.

Days passed. I slowly absorbed the truth of my surroundings. I learned what to call everyone. Aishwarya didn’t want me to call her ma’am, though I was perfectly fine with it. Other things unfolded just as expected.

Yet, deep inside, the struggle remained. The questions from my UG classmates still echoed in my mind. Their relentless inquiries—What are you calling her? What’s happening? How are things?—were never satisfied with my answers. And I was exhausted. Physically. Mentally.

On my 105th day of post-graduation, I broke down again. This time, there was no anger, only exhaustion. All I wanted was a break—some soup, a few days of rest, a distraction. But I never took that leave which I needed the most.

The comments, the opinions, the judgments—they didn’t stop. Nothing changed. But something within me did. My personal responsibilities grew, and I could physically see my health deteriorating. It was time to take a stand for myself.

If I didn’t, I would sink.

I forced myself to step out of the cage of my own thoughts, the self-imposed walls of my comfort. A part of me still resisted, still refused to fully accept this reality. But the truth is the truth. I am not above it. I cannot fight it.

And so, after mentally crying over it, after collecting and reflecting on every positive moment from the past 115 days, I finally emerged from my cocoon. And I realized something simple yet profound:

I AM A FIRST-YEAR POST-GRADUATE STUDENT.

Preface: Human Hirudin

Post Script: Empathizing..