Entrance mania- A fight of existence

Mine is a dilemma many girl’s this age face. 23, working, independent , but unmarried. While the world has grown to be more modern in a matter of saying, things seem to be at a standstill for us women even today at times. The details and stats look useless when faced with the harsh reality of existence in an ever stuck up society. No doubt that today we have more options than our mothers did. My being a journalist, considered to be a complete male domain previously, is proof enough. But the point still remains the same. Have things changed enough?

One sweet evening, on a weekend visit to my home in Panchkula, Chandigarh’s satellite city, while talking about things like job, people, future and all, my parents dropped a quiet bomb. A bomb that shook me to the core of my existence. A bomb that has me reeling under its impact till date. It had been hinted before that job means an end of studies, a proof that everyone needs to attach to a girl that now she is able and secure in the world, is earning her own money, is independent enough, yet tamable still, coz she is young, and hence, a prize-fattened sacrificial lamb for the marriage mart.

“Beta hamari society aisi hi hai. Humnein aapko poori freedom di padhne ki, apna career choose karne ki, jabki hamare yahan to ladkiyan journalist nahin banti, because it’s not a good industry na, sabne oppose kiya yet we stood by you, and now that you are working so marriage to karni hi hai.” That came form my mother who herself during her show the girl around to eligible boys, for marriage, scared them and their mama’s off by either scolding them or better still, by pretending to be cock-eyed. That when she had the most beautiful, big eyes an Indian girl can dream off!!! The same mother told me that now I am old enough, educated enough and anyway, the older a girl gets the difficult it is get a guy and then for the girl to adjust.
Another factor came to the forefront. Girls like me, staying away from home to pursue a desired career aren’t a safe proposition. Girl’s should stay under the wings of their parents and then should get married. The in between situation is very dangerous. Anything can happen (read guy friends, affairs, they still can’t imagine sex, so lets leave that out.)

My father as opposed to my mum saw the situation a little differently and gave me a way out, more of a buying time strategy for me. “The problem is that you’ve stopped studying. Now that you’ve already worked for a year and more, why don’t you study some more? That was anyway always the original plan of yours. But we won’t let you do just anything, anywhere. You either study in JNU or Jamia, or else you come back to Chandigarh. Then you want to study here or work, it’s up to you.”

So basically, they were totally paralyzed by the fear of unknown, vis-à-vis their only daughter staying away alone, and they chickened out. They could not stand the pressure from their respective cliques, “Aapki beti akeli dilli jaise shehar mein rehti hai. Arrey Chandigarh bohot modern hai, bohot opportunities hain. Use vahan mat chodiye. Pata nahin kya ho jae,” being the gist of all the will-wisher’s talk.

So, here I was, hyperventilating on 16th May, a day before my all-important life and death exam, JNU’s MA in Politics with Specialization in International Relations. It is supposed to be the best possible IR course in India. Some 10,000 odd candidates comprising of pol sci graduates, IAS aspirants largely forming the rank and file. That for a person like me who forever had her nose in a book, classic literature or romantic novels, who always ignored the political news, didn’t even know the names of all the Chief Minister’s of the different states in the country till last year, was like climbing Mount Everest and then going for a swim in the English Channel. That and much more.

So, that should explain my predicament, and then I took the decision. I will take a month’s break from office and dedicate it totally to the task of preparing for this all encompassing exam. Office is a friendly place at most times. People get leave easily if you want to pursue higher studies. So, after a little reluctance and cross questioning my boss grants me the leave.

Now I got scared with what to study. Clear-cut, regular incursions into the world of the 5 yr question papers from 2002 to 2007 clears out a pattern. 5 questions on recent current issues internationally with regards to India’s foreign policy and it’s take, and also identity politics, democratic politics, religious politics, caste politics etc, then 5 questions on history, World Wars, Cold Wars types, 5 questions on global economy and 5 questions on things like UN, NAM, Gandhian philosophy kinds.

I realized, history is interesting but can’t be done in 20 days, same goes for economics minus the interesting bit though. My best bet I felt was current affairs and foreign policies since the time of Nehru. I read book after book and did get intrigued. So, besides that how can I not mention the hours spent checking BBC World site for news, backgrounders and god knows what not. Made full use of office stationary and printer I have to say during that time.

Then I realized my crammed hostel room with two other ‘inmates’, that’s what we are referred to in all official documents of the hostel, was getting on my nerves and I was slipping back in the habit of reading novels. So I took the opportunity of going back home and studying in the lovingly familiar surroundings. But home was another story altogether. My mother was on a South-India trip with her friends, dad had to go to Mumbai for office work, so I became the guardian of my just-getting-over-jaundice 15-year-old cousin and grandmother (they stay with my parents). Dad was relieved as I could take care of my sis, and he would be hassle free, but life became a cycle of getting up early, preparing juices and glucose water, getting fruits and salads ready for tiffin, giving breakfast, then driving my sis to school, getting back home, study, sleeping a bit or just lying down after a sleep of 4 hours at night, study, getting her from school, study, have lunch, study, chit-chat, study, have dinner, watch TV, study and finally sleep.

After full one week of that bullshit I got tired, the day before dad was to return, I dropped arms and returned to Delhi. Then began the usual trips to Barista, (have been studying at that joint for 4 yrs now, be it in Chandigarh or Delhi), study, go to JNU and study. All throughout my partner in crime, my wall of support, my punching bag, my mood-swing bearer and my ultimate source of knowledge and study material Saurabh, gave me refuge in his JNU hostel, Brahmaputra. The pan wala, omlette wala, magi wala, coffee wala, all know me by now, after 17 days of hounding those guys with my ever there presence.

Talked to an MPhil student of IR and he gave a few more questions to prepare. Life felt good. For the first time in my life I studied, studied like hell’s fury would break open if I didn’t. I enjoyed studying and couldn’t care less that I had started resembling like a little French man coz of the growth of Moochi on my upper lip. Life felt good, I had a purpose in life, and I knew I was preparing well.

Anyway, back to the 16th now. Studied all day, knew my answers and the matter and felt confident. Didn’t sleep at all, or rather couldn’t sleep at all, and then morning dawned with the hint of a clear sky and sweltering sun. Got dressed and decided I can’t do anything more, so lets go to Barista. It was a strange experience. Trying to feel the warmth, the ease and the calm that always envelops me every time I walk into that familiar orange walled café. But not so this time. All through out I had #$@*&! much more than I should I did so despite the heat. Just to compose my jingling-tingling insides under control. Felt I wanted to puke, felt I wanted to go shit. But even those basic of human activities deluded me.

So I bade good-bye to my long-standing friend and prepared my self for the 3 hour, life-changing battle. Stood outside the center, and #$@*&! one final time. The guys around me though got a cultural shock, they were the seedha saadha types. But I couldn’t have cared at that time. Then after a long hug and much-needed wishes of luck I went in. Reached room no. 116 and saw that I was the first in the row. Fair enough, no point in even thinking of cheating in such a competitive exam.

Sat down and prayed. By the way, although I don’t pray regularly I do feel a proximity to Ma Durga and kept a constant chatter with her throughout the preparation. Kept making promises and such things so that lady luck smiles on me. Anyway I prayed one last time, stopped thinking and then saw the question paper. First page, of 10 questions, and I wanted to CRY. I didn’t know a single question well. Not even a single question from foreign policies, international issues or so. No ten years of Pokharan, no Indo-Pap, no terrorism, no nothing. I turned over and heaved a sigh of relief. Thank god I knew at least 4 out of 5 questions decently well. They weren’t the best one’s prepared by me, but I decided to put my current knowledge, my feature writing and 3 yrs of sociology to use.

At first I had thought my paper would get over in around an hour, but as I began to write, rhetoric and twisted writing won the battle. The answers I thought I would complete in 4 sheets took 7 to 8 pages. I felt better. Didn’t feel suffocated, on the verge of tears. By the fifth question my hands were aching and the forefinger had a blister, out of practice being the reason, the keyboard was now my best friend as opposed to the pen, but I persevered, and wrote some innocuous 4-page answer. Then I stumbled out of the room, out of the building.

Saurabh was as surprised, and might I add scared as me. I told him that this way I am never getting through. I might not go back to Chandigarh, but pitch my battle tent in Delhi, but JNU will delude me. He told me to keep faith. And just like that my story, my one month of hard toil, labor came to naught. It was an anti-climax. A sickening anti-climax.

I am nervous, a wreck as of now. Every time someone mentions where I have been or how was the paper I feel suffocated and very sad. What if I fail completely? What if I don’t succeed? Will this mean that my happy free days in Delhi are over? I know I’ll fight, but if I don’t get through, then there is some tough sailing predicted for me.
So now I am back to the office grind, still not used to it though, but happy. Content that I studied and gave my best shot. That is something new. Knowing that I studied. No guilt over not studying. But just one last thing. My friend was right when he said, “JNU and randomness go hand in hand. What else did you expect?”