Four-Dimensional

It has been almost four months since colleges reopened. The third dimension of life that the pandemic had so brutally smashed down has gracefully picked itself back up from the rubble and brought with it another dimension I had never experienced before–college life. College life has begun, it has finally begun, and its new beginnings have changed how I defined life in the pandemic-ridden world of the past two years. All the expectations I had fostered are finally manifesting themelves in the form of the red brick building of my college; in the form of my friends; in the form of hot, dusty physical classes; in the form of freedom.

My college is a 68 old year building that radiates a sense of broken intellect, the kind of intellect that is buried under years of bad administration and mismanagement but is always waiting to be found by those eager enough to do so. As soon as you enter through the gates leading to the college, the first thing you see is the silver letters spelling “Kirori Mal” at the top of the main building, with the huge silver ‘I’ of “Kirori Mal” hanging askew, ready to fall. Students joke that the “I” is falling for the “M”.

The first day of college frightened me. During the pandemic, life had shrunk into the walls of my house, and it rarely dared to venture outside. But, as soon as I stepped into college, I could feel that the wind that blows here is created by the fluttering wings of the dreams of all those who walk its corridors. I could feel that every minute in this place would be laden with possibilities of things I had only imagined until now. Every step I took that first day was laden with an overwhelming urge to flee. It was as if I was a caged animal who, after finally being set free, had no clue how to harbour that freedom. I remember my heart beating too hard with the thought of the sheer scope of all I could do with my life here. It takes a lot of time to reconcile with the enormity of the potential that college represents; I don’t think I have still succeeded.

Back in school, I had very little in common with my classmates; oddly, I had found solace in my singularity. But, at college, I discovered that I wasn’t alone. I discovered that every person here is unique and shaped by a story I haven’t read. So I sought solace in people who told me their stories with a kindness I hadn’t received from strangers before. I made friends. I realised that some people are genuinely interested in your story. So I slowly, hesitantly read it out to them. They listened to the past chapters and became a part of the new ones.

College life in a place far from home is built on the pillars of independence and freedom. This freedom is the kind of freedom that leaves you untethered in this vast world and brings with it a lot of responsibility. The responsibility is not just that of survival; it is of creating a home for myself in a strange, new place; it is the responsibility of being happy.

My first couple of months in Delhi were tough. I understood what homesickness meant. It’s such a heavy feeling, homesickness. It’s like you are carrying the weight of all that meant home to you inside your body. It’s as if the world you see in front of you squeezes out all its colours into the world your heart craves, and the one you live in goes colourless.

Fortunately, the relentless pace of college life soon took over. Lectures, college societies, libraries, cafes—there is so much to discover and so many discoveries to talk about. But, the homesickness always managed to sneak in through dark corners and gave the silence of the night a voice. So, when I finally did go home for some time, I expected the feeling to disappear. But, what really took its place was an intense yearning for the shade of the old trees at college, the department room with its brimming creativity, and the time I spent with my friends. As frustrating as it was, this is when I understood that the foundations of my new home had been laid in the liminal space between my homesickness and the longing for college and all that it entails. I also understood that the unfettered freedom and potential that college life stands for can be a very heavy weight if carried the wrong way. College life, I have realised, is like a roaring sea—it takes you in with its enormous waves, and once you are under the blue of the sea, you can either build your own Atlantis or drown.