Tabula Rasa Part 1

Tabula rasa (/ˈtæbjələ ˈrɑːsə, -zə, ˈreɪ-/)

Blank Slate

New beginnings, fresh starts, clean records. All of these give people a chance to turn over a new leaf; to make a fresh start. Initially I used to look forward to them, in hope to escape from my current shackles. I always viewed new beginnings as a second chance, bringing with it a utopian scenario. A model plot, where everything went by the game plan without experiencing any hiccups or setbacks; where there was a fairy godmother who could transfigure you into Cinderella; where the hero always vanquished the villain; where a little bit of pixie-dust could resolve all complications. As the famous saying goes, ‘ The grass on the other side is always greener.’  Thankfully, it didn’t take ‘life’ too long to disprove this theory and saying of mine. The saying soon changed to ‘ The grass is greener where you water it’.

Uncertain on whether it was advantageous or disadvantageous, the one thing that I did realise for certain, was that my rose-tinted shades would no longer work. They had been brutally exchanged with high power cristal lenses. The world no longer appeared roseate, but now it appeared with all its vibrant hues and sombre shades. As much as there was positivity in the atmos, it was countered by an equivalent amount of negativity.  Happiness was balanced by sadness, good by bad, peace by distress, and black by white. My utopian view of new beginnings was soon trashed for a more realistic, pragmatic and diplomatic view.

Quite satisfied with this new found realization, life surprisingly took a rather untroubled pathway. But as is the case with every realization, this realization of mine also has a story to it-my story; where I am the storyteller, not my parents, not my friends, not my teachers, not my relatives, but me-with all my perfect imperfections.

The plane touched down, taxied on the pathway and finally came to a stop. The seatbelt sign turned off, but as usual passengers were already up on the alley lugging their suitcases down from the overhead compartment. I was glad to be back. The destination provided me an unexplainable comfort, but the purpose of visit always balanced this with an equal amount of concern and apprehension.

‘Would I be able to settle in? Would I be able to make friends? What if I’m not able to make any friends? What if, I don’t like the food? What if I fall sick? Will there be medicines available there? How will I cope with all the work alone? Will I be able to understand all the new accents I will have to encounter? What if, I don’t like the course that I’ve taken?’ These thoughts kept me preoccupied the entire journey to my, soon to be, home.

The uncertainty and dilemma that plagued my mind mysteriously vanished upon sight of my University’s name written in huge, bold, black letters at the entrance. I finally found the missing jigsaw piece which completed my puzzle, and everything suddenly fell in place. All the ambivalent thoughts in my head suddenly didn’t seem that consequential. I knew that my journey had just commenced and that I would encounter problems but the adrenaline rush inside me at that moment gave me an unfound burst of confidence.

It was with this confidence that I set out on my first day of University, which was also the first day of orientation week. I will admit that I was very elevated and tense at the same time to meet my coursemates, as I would finally get faces for the various characters I had made up in my head for the cliche university scenarios, which I derived from the countless blogs, books, documentaries and movies I devoured on this topic. Like every freshmen I had very high expectations of orientation week, but my first impression didn’t turn out to be a very promising one. On reaching the stipulated venue ten minutes late, it didn’t take me long to realise that I was the odd one out. Being the only one with a different ethnicity and nationality, I felt a bit like Banquo from Macbeth.

Concern and apprehension slowly started to bubble up from the deep, dark abysses of my mind and soon, my mind reverted to its inceptive state. Similar thoughts of uncertainty and dilemma started to plague my mind, as I approached the group. Scared of rejection, I was a bit cautious at first; but soon the caution wore off and I actually started to enjoy myself. Gradually over orientation week; concern, apprehension and all their relatives were sent back home, as I quickly settled in and interacted ably with all my orientation group mates.

Among the many important lessons that I learnt from orientation week, the most important one was that the more stupid the activities get, the more stronger the friendship gets and the more dirt you gain on the person. You never know when it might come handy, you simply never know.  But in all seriousness, I have managed to surprise myself time and again during the journey of orientation. Being an extroverted introvert leaning towards being anti-social, it came to me as a shock when I took part in voluntary interactions with people, involving genuine, standard conversions that extended beyond five minutes.