Last week was an explosion, an explosion like no other. That of immense magnitude which awakened the summer slumber in me, that which brought me back to sanity. Welcome back to reality.
Last week was an explosion, a slow time-ticking dynamite of ostensible fear and pain, a bombshell for all of the weeks and the months that I have kept myself silent. It crept inside like a venom-inducing serpent in the hushed hours of the night, prepared to attack its careless prey with one jolt, one blow, and left the rest of the world in a shattering blast of astonishment. An armaggedon of human emotions.
It felt like everything was approaching its tragic finality when that particular week fell upon my shoulders. It felt like it was too late for the heart to look back and learn. Funny how in a course of a few days life could change dramatically from point A to point infinity, without the proverbial red light to tell you to take caution and stop.
It brought me an inexplicable dose of surprise when I first received the awfully painful truth that I was dismissed from my College. It’s ironic, though, how often we get such surprises from the things we have long known and expected. I knew it. I knew it all along. I dragged it under the orange lights of the city that smiled and welcomed me with warmth. I carried it through the lively days of summer, up and down the solitude of its bitter evenings until the rain came to awaken me once more. I haven’t forgotten. No, not even once. But I did fall asleep and choose to find an escape in a bottomless pit of my fear and denial, which left me ever more surprised when the truth broke out: I was dismissed.
Dismissed from College, they did say. But not from life, not from living, not from anything apart from the institution which only caters to those who are too frightened to break the boundaries and let go. Some do chose to fly, at someplace, some time. The price is the prejudice.
I went through an exhausting week dealing with various school officials; getting tossed at one office to the other, shoving to their faces my poor records, getting embarassed every now and then, getting the most indifferent remarks of my life, as if everything depended on a one-point-something grade. Well, for once, it did and I was on the verge of slipping away with my record, all screaming in a loud parade of D and W.
John Dewey once said that education is not a preparation for future living but rather is a process of living. And since I know that I am not dismissed from life, I shall carry on.
This experience has been a lesson in itself as there are certain lessons in life that we learn the hard way, the painful way. The birth of this realization was a long and tormenting course; it demanded my fragile heart as a pre-requisite for learning. Here, there are no measures of right and wrong, no digits that could equate to one’s own achievements and no numbers that could qualify one’s self. There is no dismissal in the course of a lifetime. All is a work in progress.
In the process, one comes face to face with life’s nuclear bombs and in the process too does one truly learns. How the heart suffers in the hands of the world’s most ghastly explosions; that I could not put to words. But how the heart overcomes, I guess that is even more unspeakable.