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My Expiriences With the Alchemist

My Expiriences With the Alchemist

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Published by Chetan Kanungo

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Published by: Chetan Kanungo on Dec 06, 2009
Copyright:Attribution Non-commercial

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12/06/2009

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PROLOGUE
It was just another day. But everyone around seemed to be too apprehensive. It was the day  when the class XII result was to be declared. The anxiousness which people generally feel when they are expecting things, especially their results, was not there for me. I knew theresult the day my exams got over. Finally the result was out, to everyone’s relief.Nothing seemed to have changed. But everyone acted as if they had survived the Armageddon. An air of excitement encompassed the atmosphere. Everyone was too keen toknow about how others have performed in the exams, just for the comfort of knowing  where exactly they stand, not that as if it really made any difference.I was also subjected to this inquisitiveness. Not that it disturbed me but I was amused to seethe eagerness with which the people asked, impatient to pass a judgment on my intellectualability on the basis of my result. It wasn’t for the first time that I had to go through thisexercise, so I answered with patience. For some reasons, the result alone was not sufficient – they wanted an explanation. I had already prepared myself for these questions and decidedagainst explaining myself to anyone except my parents. The questions kept coming and all Icould do was face them, like a warrior standing in a battle field with out a shield. Finally, it was all over. Everybody moved ahead with their lives and I was left alone to live in peace with the result. Now was the time to question myself, about what I have to do in life. I hadfailed in the class XII exams.It was not easy but my parents took it rather bravely. It was the first time that I had failed inany examination and that too in the XII boards. I had thought about it. My parents acceptedthe fact that I had failed, but it was beyond their limitations of reasoning to figure out why. Itried to make them understand but it was difficult to convey what I actually felt. I told themthat I wanted to quit studies and that I did not want to study any further just for the sake of procuring a degree. Besides if I had continued to study, I may have ended up in somerandom third grade college resulting in disappointment for my parents, apart from the
 
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colossal waste of time and money and as such I had no intentions of pursuing a career which was even remotely connected to academics. This was all fine, however the fact remained what was it that I intended to do. This was thehardest part. It took every bit of courage within me to speak out that I want to do‘something’ which guarantees no social security, something in which my future is not certain,in the conventional sense. This is something which I am meant to do, something I amblessed with and something which means a lot to me. I gave every possible argument toconvince my parents and justify my stand. But even the likes of Bill Gates and RabindraNath Tagore could not help me out.I gave up. May be I was not strong enough to follow my convictions, may be I did not have the guts to dare and stand up formyself. Or may be I was not audacious enough to go after my pursuit of happiness at thecost of my parents’. Whatever it may be, I have to live with it for the rest of my life. Idecided to repeat class XII while reading ‘Jonathan Livingstone Seagull’. Ashamed.It was the darkest phase of my life.“You are good for nothing”, the principal at the school said, when I told her, along withothers, that the Chemistry teacher does not teach well. “How can you judge whether ateacher is good or bad? You are a failure for God’s sake”, was the reply I got at my insistence. It was just the beginning. I was made to stay back in the school for studies, whilemy other class mates left for their homes on time. Gradually I was getting used to the factthat I m a failure, after all. Whenever I heard someone laughing around, I presumed it wasme they are laughing at. I was becoming cynical as well!!On the other hand, there was a continuous struggle going on within myself. I had toconstantly push myself, against my will, to study. I tried hard not to think about what I couldhave done, but the harder I tried, it struck me with even more intensity. It was getting worseby the day.

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