Nothing Special

I hate boring people.

Don’t get me wrong, I completely accept people for who they are – regardless of their faith, ancestry, ethnicity, sexuality and all other forms of stratification. I just hate boring people. I like to consider myself someone with a persona of enjoying life and wanting to live to the fullest (bare with this awfully cliched beginning), and as a result have learnt to take life and destiny as it creeps out from the shade of anonymity. Attending a school which is best known to produce individuals that are studious and letter-minded, I’ve grown tired of the stereotypical thinking that everyone’s future is depicted by how well they performed in a single exam and what can be ‘seen’ in terms of scores by an admissions officer: regardless of who they are and what they can offer to a community.

I know that this isn’t at all how futures are made – but being around the nauseating idea 24/7 usually baffles me to the point that I can’t stand it. I’m sure superiors would remark ‘Oh forget about their personal life, they got an A* instead of an A in Chemistry! We must have this student at our school!’ and ‘20A* in O’Levels? 8A*s in A’Level? No sense of personality or character? This is our guy!’

(..note the sarcasm).

Then again, I don’t consider my life centred towards university admissions nor how well that person performed in comparison to me (this comparison debate is a whole other article): I just take note that eventually I will end up somewhere someday and obviously preparation is the best key to landing somewhere fascinating. The consistent fear yet curiosity of the future drives me to push myself and to tear down the boundaries I’ve created – reminding myself to challenge everything really motivates me to strive for more than what the regular seed may want. Why am I writing this? Being promoted into A1, I can sense the shrill tones in comrades’s voices as they dedicatedly plan their future step by step; brick by brick. It’s only routine for me to start thinking about mine.

Facing questions like ‘Oye tere history me kya aya?’ (Yo, what did you get in History?), or ‘mere result behtar hei kyunke mere Chemistry me A* hai’ (My result is better because I have an A* in Chemistry) – just makes me reconsider the people I surround myself with. Thankfully, those I call my good friends usually have dips and spikes in their temperament – those of which I virtually love and crave for in a relationship. I worship imperfections because they really craft a persons sense of individuality and, really, who wants to be a dime a dozen? Not me! I feel as if I have a purpose in this life (yes, to study the impacts of the Depression on American civilisation in the corner of an old dusty library…You know me well) and following that drive would allow me to greet some sort of contentment – something we all want; and desperately need.

I want to come across someone who is so unapologetically charismatic and open about who they are that not even Napoleon himself could challenge that person to a duel. The elegant caress of enlightenment radiating from their lively countenance: I want to be around that. I want to be that.

I have to go now. An oven is waiting for me somewhere.


4 thoughts on “Nothing Special

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