Mediocre

-‘When I’m older I want to be a scientist!’

-‘Yes, why not? Be a great one and get a job in ISRO or NASA’

I was taught greatness

Greatness in studies

In singing

In dancing

In Speaking

Everything.

I wasn’t taught the meaning of the word mediocre.

Why?

Well obviously, because I didn’t need it.

A 12 year old pops up on a singing show

Suddenly, I am in a music class

aiming for nothing less than the Grammy’s.

A 16 year old wins a nobel prize,

And there I was, googling “‘astrophysics for dummies’

even though it was a business studies text open in front of me.

Anything less than greatness was unacceptable to me.

Aim for the moon and land among the stars?

Nah, scratch that, I wanted to land on Mars instead

Greater than any human being ever

The young me, full of hope,

aimed for nothing less than greatness, as she was taught,

in everything she did

But somehow

every time she tried something,

she was just average

ordinary

mediocre.

People ask me what am i most afraid of,

I say, deep ocean

a lie

because what i am, have been, and will be most afraid of in my life

ever since I learned it’s definition

is being mediocre

to lead a mediocre life

And what if there is no solution?

What if that is my destiny?

I could try my best,

I could put in all I have into everything I do,

but

what if

my greatest

is the world’s

mediocre?

 

 

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Perfect Two

I wanted to write something sad, to reflect the mood I’ve been feeling, but as soon as I opened a new document, my phone started playing Perfect Two by Auburn. And man, that song took me back almost a decade. Mouthing along to the song perfectly, I was suddenly in 8th Grade sitting with Jemi and Liya. Thinking back, boy, did we take 8th grade for granted. For me, it was always something that would never live up to 7th. But it wasn’t that bad. I mean, I had my fair share of drama, laughter and boy problems. 8th grade is so underrated. I get why, at that point of time I thought it was the worst class ever.  After the “famous” 7th-I, nothing was good enough for us. However, right now as an emotionally unstable college student, I wish I could go back to Sasikala teacher’s social studies class, or Savita Teacher’s “physical science” or Tilottama teacher’s biology class. Not going to lie, but 8th grade biology was extremely interesting and controversial.

It’s strange how playing a specific song floods your brain with memories you forgot you had. 8th grade is always represented by Perfect Two and When I Look at You by Miley Cyrus. It was when my friends had boyfriends. What! Didn’t boys have cooties? I still remember Jemi taking me to meet her “boyfriend” for God knows what reason and, me awkwardly standing there. He offered me some chips and I was so self-conscious that I quickly replied “no!” and turned away. Later Jemi asked me why I blushed when he offered me chips. And the one time, my friends “fought” for me(!) in that dingy classroom of Nehru Block. Gayatri screaming, “She’s my friend! I’ve known her for 2 years” and Jemi saying “So what? I’ve known her for lesser time and I know her more than you do!” Did I have actual people who wanted to be my friend back then? Wild. Most importantly though, it was the foundation of my friendship with Liya, I think. I mean I basically shamed her for being more close to Ritwika than me, and made her tell me everything in her life. But, she should be glad I did that. Who else was going to break up with “Chris Edgehead” for her? Certainly, not “Rtiwi” or “Sangu”. I’m still convinced he was not a “student in New Indian School” like he said and was a middle aged man. Boy, were we foolish. Through all the secret codes and journal entries and Sasikala Teacher catching us saying that her actually very interesting civics lecture was boring, and making me cry(?!) and first crushes and first fights- I made friends for a lifetime. I don’t give 8th grade the value it deserves. I think, it started the mold of the person I was going to be today.

I always wanted to get out of school. Even when everyone said I will regret it as soon as I am out, I thought I’ll be the exception. But now, four years and being emotionally unstable later, I just wish I could go back and sing When I look at you, in class with Jemi or Liya and have silly crushes that don’t mean anything and cry about drama that I don’t even remember now and sit in that dingy room in Nehru block with a few friends who truly care for me and write my journal, because writing journals were the coolest thing back then (I think. I wasn’t very popular.)

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