I woke up and the world outside was dark
All so quiet before the dawn
Opened up the door and walked outside
The ground was cold
I walked until I couldn’t walk anymore
To a place I’d never been
There was something stirring in the air
In front of me, I could see
More than this
So much more than this..
For all those who share the same perspective about academics, I welcome you to this segment of frivolous bravado and mindless ballyhoo of the QUACK, known as Catalyst, where I set out to travel the world of TIP with more bravado than common sense, and make a niche for myself amongst many.
Remembering the good old days, going to a College where attendance wasn’t of great importance, work was seldom seen on the pages of our journals and the ease at which one could step out of the gates of the colleges and jump into their cars and buses and head home whenever they wanted too. Well how much of that is still true only we know as we stand within the territory of one of the best textile universities of Pakistan.
2 months down the line here I Am writing for The QUACK hoping that my work would be published and indeed criticized by the masses who read these lines on the walls of TIP.
As I quote these lines from one of Peter Gabriel’s finest works “More than this”, as these lyrics give you a hint of what went within many of the freshman present here today, the feel of excitement that took a new Turn as we walked out the doors of the auditorium, fear struck our mind with the rumors that traveled faster than the speed of light of the rag sessions carried out at this university which were nothing like what we hAd ever imagined or witnessed before, scared to the core all we wished was how the day would end and we could run to our designated points and head home, but wait there was more than the rag sessions heLd within the campus more was to follow as the journey begun, O did we not ask for Gods mercy to help us get through the horror of the acrobatic acts which were to be performed by and upon us. But to honest all was fun as the embarrassment was not confined to anyone on person as we were in the throes of becoming TIPIANS. As this was indeed, the onlY way to be known amongst our seniors, who are indeed very helpful to all of us.
Studies boosted off from the very firSt day on the calendar of our semester, new to the ways of teaching and the routine of the university, most of us took a very good start but for the many who took it lightly well after the first hourly results being announced everyone is surely getting in to the spirit of good academia. As none of us would want to be held behind probation lines (scary thought).
Well readers I am glad to inform you that the misery of reading my article is almost over as I end the first edition of Catalyst here by trying to raise the hopes of many freshman by saying that there is surely more than this to the journey of becoming professional individuals. And if we have failed to perform well in the first fracTion of the semester, don’t loose hope there is so much more space still left for each of us to do better the next time. Today we mourn. Tomorrow we can sing and dance. As the Byrd’s paraphrased scripture, for everything there is a season and a time to every purpose under Heaven.
Catalyst is a new regular column by Z-squared.