Time Out in a Space-Time Bubble

09 August 2015

19:33

"It's the first day of school, it's freaking me out…" from Undercover written by the Class of 2015 when some of them were still shorter than me (Grade 7)… I caught myself humming the tune as I made my way out of the usual bubble I occupy into a brave new (ad)venture.

Just outside the back gate, "I'll send the leopard your way," I called out to Ila and Namita, as they braved the elements in the holy quest of good health. 7:15 a.m. on the clock face and I was on my way to the Univ for my first day of Master's in English Literature.

Within seconds it was coming down in sheets (poor Ila, Namita, I thought, will be like drowned rats). Considered ditching the metro plan and driving all the way. Nah, veto, take the metro. Get more reading time.

The metro was crowded (for a Sunday??) but I found a place, pulled out said reading material, and sank into it. When the low-pitched emotionless voice articulated perfectly the name of a particular metro station, I surfaced for a bit as the memory of a recent magical day spent at a place nearby slipped in cautiously. I smiled faintly at the thought of how a moment can stretch to eternity and yet never quite reach out and touch infinity, how if wishes were horses…

About an hour later, absorbed in Benjamin's Reflections, nearly missed my station! [Yes, this has happened before!] Grabbed umbrella, the bag, the other bag, and jumped through closing doors.

And met the deluge. The Sky poured onto the Earth, and she, not to be coy, rose up to meet him in an embrace that rivaled every fairy tale. Through this Marriage of Earth and Sky, a brave young warrior on a three-wheeled iron horse drove, not even attempting to stay dry [and while I saluted his bravado, I realized that it was the greatest need of all that drove him - food, shelter…]… while I clutched at an ineffectual umbrella trying to hold it over both of us, drenching water met wet clothes from all four directions. Then the splash from passing cars that did not have the courtesy to slow down but ah, what difference would that have made anyway?

Twenty minutes late, dripping a river in my wake, I paused in the doorway, smiling at old friend, Sharada Akka, who was well-settled into her lecture already. Without pausing or even breaking thought she smiled back, said, "Hi, Anubha!" and waved me to a seat.

That was the first lecture where Solas met Sentence, Chaucer did not pass judgement on the Wyf of Bath and Aristotle did his Poetic thing. A soul starved for such a delectable confectionery of words, phrases, idioms and verse, an hour floated past, two hours, and a second lecture that was evenly peppered with philosophy, humour and very useful trivia on how to clear the unreasonable NET exam. Did you know, for example, how many plays Shakespeare wrote, and that three of them were classified as "Problem Plays"? Very important for a future educator to know such stuff!

The director of NCWEB showed up during a lecture, told us to elect a class rep, and appoint some spies (really?!) who would go and check out how the courses were being taught in the Department. She also ordered us to work hard and get Univ positions before smiling sweetly and letting us know when and where we could find her if we had a problem.

Off I trotted for lunch with old friend and long-term soulmate, PK, who had promised to cook me an allergen-free meal. Of course, I ended up bunking lesson 3, all under the heading of "If you don't bunk a few, what's the point of going back to Univ?"

PK looked up from the frying pan and immediately launched into "I finally read your blog, babe, and I was completely (blown away? I thought, hopefully) - you know, your seven degrees of separation made me think; but the seven degrees of togetherness had a lot of bunk!"

Moved to defend my thesis I retorted, "Well degrees 1 to 4 I have witnessed! And degree 5 is documented by none other than A. Maslow! The rest, yes… possibly bunk!"

In short, we caught up on everything and he spared me another drenching by dropping me back.

Once there, I walked up to two extremely young people and asked, "So did you attend the third lesson? What did I miss?"

"A really handsome guy," one of them replied.

Jesus! What rotten luck! But the grapes are sour, remember? "I bet he's about half my age," I remarked.

"Oh no, no, not at all. You'll like him. He's about 30 years old."

That moment when you employ a mental meme with the strangely shaped smile!

And in spite of the aesthetic appeal of the lecturer (or because of it?) she had five pages of notes to share….

Lecture 4 was equally enchanting, the prof anatomized the Anatomy of Melancholy within an hour and a bit, leaving us speechless when he concluded, "That's it for this text. Next week we will take up Jonson's Alchemist." True efficiency!

The rain had mercifully stopped - but the bizarre had not - and I found myself offering a tampon in lieu of an s.t. to a complete stranger (well, she was in my class but we hadn't even exchanged names!) and instructing her on how to use it. [Ahem, since Kiran Gandhi, I now feel able and willing to reveal all such stuff - feel almost duty-bound to do so, actually.] The discovery of Crystal, the famous photocopy place with solutions to all courses, and coffee with PK, and the metro again in rapid succession.

As I pulled out my book, a young girl seated next to me asked, "Is this a book about science?" Not really, though can we really classify…? "Oh, I thought it was about science because it is called reflections." That meme again! Thereafter, she proceeded to read each page with me with such absorbed intensity that (I am certain) had her stop been further away she would've engaged me in deep discussion.

Finally, I suddenly realized that another young woman on the other side had felt comfortable enough to use my shoulder as her pillow as she caught up on her beauty sleep. These are the little joys of travelling by the metro! You actually meet hang-up free, real, people.

Not that my usual bubble is devoid of them, but you know what I mean.

As I drove into school just a little while ago, I realized that I have prep next Sunday and so will need to hotfoot it back immediately after class. And now, to make the most of time, I will open the Crystal-provided Paper No. 103 Literature (sic) Criticism-1 - starting with good old friend, Plato, and ending with Matthew Arnold. And I have to confess, although I will be condemned by all my kids (distraught as they are with the IBDP), that this so exciting that blood rushes about, adrenaline pours, and I will spare you the rest of the purple prose!