A work of a muddled mind

Once upon our lifetimes, we stumble upon a high minded individual. Often it results in severe consequences. I consider myself lucky, for I am only being made to write this article for my readers to waste their labor on. I rather wish, H.G. Wells had invented the Time machine. So I may have gone a few days back and saved myself all this trouble.

I am just another Alice who prefers to live in her wonderland, whose intellect stubbornly refuses to succumb to any material thoughts. Thus this demand, that I, employ my masterly mind in bringing a sensational change towards betterment of our already good lives, is but a hollow bargain. But my friend here chooses to emphasize, that it is my duty as a resident of the world, that I strive to contribute towards improving it. So I am hereby writing this article to give you, my practically no good ideas, in a great harangue.

Memories need messing so they may highlight things, you never knew existed. Pursued by my friend, as I sat down to question myself, "did I ever, in any point of my life, join hands with revolutionaries?", the answer was only in an affirmative. Back in time, when I had been struggling through my graduation, I had joined the theater society of my college.

I hoped to hog the lime light with some extra-curricular activities. Since I flopped bigtime in my academics, this was the only way, my professors could take notice of me. But my expectations were turned head over heels when I stepped into my first session. A young girl stood in middle of a vast room full of students, directing them as they sang Kajra re in chorus. It was then I learned, our theater society was a small group of students, and only students. (That throughout its seven year history, the society had fought to resist granting admittance to any of the staff members, teaching and non- teaching alike.) Another aspect of its intrigue, was the fact that, they invited students without any formality of auditions. Thus, the theater group was perhaps the only theater group on this planet where ninety percent of its members didn't know how to act. It was only after months that I realized that the theater was never interested in acting or bringing to the college, laurels from inter-college competitions. It only meant to give a platform to students, to rediscover themselves.

In course of my years in college, I discovered many dimensions of my character. It was in this theater, that I met students from different religious, cultural and economic backgrounds, who had different natures, abilities and ideas. I may not have experienced the world, but the exposure the theater gave, helped me fairly, to estimate my capabilities and limitations.

Nothing is devoid of glitches. You may say with such an assistance, all the students in our college were living in heavenly bliss. However, the truth is, the theater never got an overwhelming response. Many people stayed out of it, for they feared ridicule.

Can't blame them really. There are so many things I know I can't do. Take mathematics for example. I still need a calculator to do two plus two. I know its my little secret which if spilled in public will only buy me humiliation. I would never join a maths club, even if there were seven others like me there. I am just too scared.

Call it my oddly wired brain, I believe, had my college had, a club called "what you can't do" club, by the students, of the students, for the students, things would have been different. This club would invite students to any activity they felt they couldn't do. Shy students would spare time to perhaps practice some public speaking. The club would organize painting workshops to entertain students who felt they sucked at drawing. And genius mathematicians like me would be given some sums to palpitate upon. These activities held by the club would only aim at encouraging students to overcome their fears. To make them realize, they can do, what they think they can't.

Believe me, it is more fun to see people sync with your inabilities than what you think is your strength. This way, its easier to bond with people. Losers bond better than winners, for they have within themselves, no competition.

The WYCD club idea may sound fickle, but it is a better way of exposing students to the harsh realities of the world outside. Since overcoming their own fears, is the only way students can equip themselves to face the challenges of time, nothing I believe would work better than the WYCD club.

This is just a hypothesis. A work of my muddled mind. It would require a lot of patience, energy and time on the part of the volunteers to run a group like this. But I am sure, we all need an excuse to bunk classes. Don't we?