Me and my Bangladeshi friend Tasin (who is as lazy as me) have this deciding mechanism of whether to go to class or not. We stand outside the building, pick a pretty, dry maple leaf, and toss it. “Light side we go, dark side we don’t” “Nature decided today we should not go to class” But when we really want to (have to) go to class, we surely come up with excuses to ignore the leaf’s decision.
This is just one of the (somewhat) crazy things we do.
And sometimes out of nowhere, Habiba and I impulsively walk 1.5 miles to get boba tea from downtown, having three assignments due that night.
I have always sought this spontaneity and craze in life. But in all these, there is a void. I don’t write that much about my life here. Contrary to popular belief, things here are quite hard. The outward lavishness and luxury hide the struggles beneath, from academic struggles to subpar grades, from messy rooms to undone laundry, and from stressing about internships to eating boring bland food.
And sometimes I just sit on one of the black metal benches of the campus, look around at the moody cloudy Ohio weather and dull pale buildings. As the gentle wind makes a rumbling sound over the fallen leaves, I try to think, “Isn’t this everything I dreamt of? Didn’t I do everything to be here?”
In the end, this inconclusive introspection doesn’t help much. But amidst all these, my interactions with people, small personal rituals, and shared experiences are indeed something to look forward to.
And like we deny the leaf and go to class, all of these after all are my choices, and I absolutely have no regrets.
