Expectations

As I saw my house pass by, I looked forward on the same road I had been traveling every day, longing. I recall how a few years ago, I completed my post-graduation from Pennsylvania State University, ranking sixth in a class of a hundred and fifty. As the day of the campus interview approached, I had started feeling anxious and fearful. I couldn't sleep at night, and my throat would constrict whenever my fellow mates would talk about the recruitment and the companies that were going to participate. I had so many expectations regarding the job, the work environment, placement, salary, quality of the interview, and stuff I wanted. Apprehensive attachment with the results had gotten me so perturbed; I couldn't focus on the work at hand anymore. I had been so stressed out that for some time, I kept whiling away days and nights. I had no account of what time it was, or the day, or the date, or any significant events that were coming up. It was like I blacked out. Days would pass by, not talking to my mom. And then she would call, scolding about how busy I had become, that I had utterly forgotten her. My primary survival was based on excuses. I had even distanced myself from my friends. Some thought that I had become bloated with attitude because of the good grades. Only a few understood and decided to give me some time to heal and work on myself. I had to get away. I had had a lot of fun with my friends. I can safely say that I had enjoyed myself to the fullest. I found a new, unexpected beginning. I got admitted into my dream university successfully, I secured a pretty good scholarship, and thankfully I was eligible for all the courses I wanted to study. I quickly made so many friends; I worked at a local firm, loved all the subjects I was studying, partied every Saturday night, went shopping with my girlfriends, clicked pictures, and posted them. Fortunately, I even got selected for a minor in dance. The timetable was so cool. Dancing was scheduled after all my study subjects would conclude, giving the perfect high schooling vibes. As a part of the Performing Arts community, we would have so many concerts throughout the year, and therefore fun and laughter would be tremendous; you couldn't get enough. There would be hectic schedules, students complaining, boys from different college blocks slipping in to flirt with the girls, costumes and DIY stuff scattered around, girls teaching each other makeup tricks, modeling, and so on. Students participated in so many events it would become difficult to keep track. Not to be a cock-a-hoop, but it was flattering to be treated as royalty amongst the many girls with a degree in Indian classical dance, mastery in circus hula hooping, and substantial experience in other western dance forms. It was all perfect. The only error in my way was that I had become too comfortable with it; I started taking it all for granted. I became greedy and yearned for more. I would complain if things didn't go the way I wanted them to (or expected them to) and had forgotten entirely to appreciate my circumstances. In my defense, this resulted in the biggest boo-boo leading to the most awe-inspiring life lesson. It all started when I began to wish for a job according to my dim perception, something that met all my expectations. Throughout the two years of my masters, I worked just for this one thing, and I felt like there was nothing to stop me from getting it. Moreover, I refused to even consider any other possibilities. It felt as though I would spiral and collapse if I didn't secure what I wanted; so was the height of my vanity. I was terrified of the way around. Subsequently, I resolved to at least secure any of the first five ranks in my last semester. I had pretty much managed to come in the top ten in the semesters before and keep my head up. Though this time, I had to buckle up because this wouldn't only boost my resume; it also felt like this was my last chance. Everything else seemed pretty bleak other than my deranged resolution. My mind was clouded; my judgment obscured and my thoughts delusional all because of this one immaterial desire. There was no getting back up. Never had I realized that this entire time I had been running a race with my paranoid self to reach an unrealistic finishing line that appeared meritorious to the naked eye. Now that I talk of it, to even harbor such thoughts seems imbecile, and they bring out the ungratefulness, immaturity, and impracticality of my character. For the same reason, I have concluded that the brain can either be the most trustworthy friend or the most unreliable and devious foe. It can create heaven out of hell or hell out of heaven. In my case, the second one reigned superior. Growing up in a rigid educational background had forced this thing into my head that nothing matters other than an eyepleasing mark sheet, though no offense to anyone involved. They were looking out for me. However, my inability to question the authenticity and genuineness of my belief system started this cycle of lunacy. Even though I always knew something was wrong and an undeniable need for correction was omnipresent, I was still stuck in the mode of ignorance.