Take a dip into my first
hand experience as a student; as an engineer, as an aspirant, as a dreamer. The
dreams that had actually positioned us to THAT corner of our lives, there was
no chance of looking back. The dreams HAD to yield results, they HAD to!
Imagine the day when a
student appears for his annual examination or a job interview; it’s critically
important to know his strengths and limitations because once the self-imposed
burden of expectation comes in the way, it might OFTEN lead to disastrous results.
The boy named Prithwish was
a dazzler in the first half of our Engineering course; he could argue with the
professors, attempt the uncanny questions of the paper, lead a laboratory
“daunter”, explore the Grand Viva lows, and head the protests but the very
prospect of a campus interview posed the toughest of challenges. It was perhaps
an onslaught deep within that corroded his intrinsic self; it was a challenge
that he formulated on his own….the challenge to surpass his personal BEST.
We could see the
transformation; his otherwise jovial appearance would turn completely pale at
the mere “sighter” of our placement officer. He used to scamper past the
notifications board posted near the placement office just because the “Slot 0”
recruiters’ list intensified his palpitation rate. “I’d crack my very first job
interview, it’s a promise”; he huffed as the sprint ended close to the
Department. The Numero Uno stampede had almost eluded him; the challenge had
transformed into an obsession.
On the long walk-down past
the placement cell, he’d appear like a dizzy athlete perfectly numb and drained
out under the load of self-expectation; under the impression of surmise. We’d
sometimes grab hold of him and attempt a reality check- “Dude, you are putting
excessive pressure on your shoulders”; I was choleric; “Did you even notice how
you look on these pre-recruitment days? Do you think that the companies would
actually come in and hire a person who has lost half the battle before it had
even begun?” Prithwish looked perplexed. Perhaps the hunt for the No.1 SPOT had
blocked off a certain active portion of his brain. His health wasn’t keeping
well either. We wouldn’t express.
He would avoid all these
questions; mind you, the pulse-meter would read a 130 easily on the D Day; we
had collectively deduced the state of his mind by then! It was NOT JUST about
the fear of rejection; but the standards that he had set for himself was way
too high to handle- the abhorrence of un-fulfillment had a detrimental effect
on his physical and mental health. The person who was a tough nut to crack on
the Volleyball court couldn’t reach out to the lobbed net-shots within the span
of 5 minutes from the whistle- That was truly alarming. Yet, he was a
charmer…he had a number of excuses to offer; the ones that included “Form is
temporary, class permanent” and blah. Somewhere down the line, he was
completely annihilated from inside. He never talked to us on these lines; never
shared his dilemma. Perhaps he was TOO focused on the numbers; the numbers that
dragged him down.
March 2009 finally arrived;
the month that made memories on one hand and smashed dreams with the other…it
did bring in showers of wondrous joy coupled with the sprinkles of deathly
silence. It was the “Slot 0 syndrome” that had grabbed the Engineering faculty
by it’s collar; it exerted it’s deleterious influence on a specific group of
students. Prithwish led the pack. Cigars and liquor started to dominate the
columns of his aberrant diet chart, sleep had already resigned from it’s job.
He did try to annotate this as “A battle to keep the “nerves away”! Sigh!…the
battle was lost even before it had begun.
Prithwish was admitted to
the AMC Medical College on the 15th of March 2009; he never returned.
A severe Hemorrhagic Stroke
knocked out his stumps, ripped his dreams apart…the nascent dreams that had
eluded him throughout the 3 years of Engineering.
I had seen Prithwish in the
morning; he was literally trembling on his feet as he staggered towards the “PI
Room”, claustrophobia was gripping his frayed nerves already. I wanted to stop
him; but he was determined to give it a crack. We had exchanged tensed glances
before he entered into the interview room; I was WORRIED.
All that came out of the
interview room was an un-conscious cocoon; gutted in the burden of his own
axioms. He had fainted mid-way through the interview.
“He never told us, you
people never...….”- aunty was completely shattered as she clasped on-to the
cold, lifeless body. Those were her parting lines.
That's what a Hemorrhagic Stroke is........
That's how the Hemorrhagic Stroke affects....
Yes. We made a deathly
mistake….in-spite of being aware of his mental torment, we never managed to
soothe him, we never managed to dissolve his notion….we never managed to help
him out. We were mere spectators in his journey to cessation. The glimpses of
this tragic disaster had revealed themselves right in-front of our eyes….we had
ignored them. We had ignored them!
MORAL of the incident (too real to be termed as story): Ignorance (in any form) is pernicious; you gotta respond to the warning signals that life sends across...you could redeem yourself and perhaps your beloved acquaintances.
* P.S. This post has been written as a part of the "The Moral of The Story Is..." initiative brought to us by Colgate in association with Indiblogger’s association to promote healthy living. Please do visit "My Healthy Speak" blog for some much needed tips and information needed to maintain your health. Stay healthy, stay fit!
MORAL of the incident (too real to be termed as story): Ignorance (in any form) is pernicious; you gotta respond to the warning signals that life sends across...you could redeem yourself and perhaps your beloved acquaintances.
(This is a true story. The name of the character has been altered after taking consent of the his family and respecting their views.)
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