by Olga Bessarab People are somehow always rushing. They rush everywhere. Into the bathroom, into bed, into careers, into unemployment, into relationships, into heartbreak, into therapists’ offices, into retreats, into new jobs, and back into bed. It’s not surprising. Just look at the advertisements around us. How many of them assure us that if only we were to subscribe to their ideology, our lives would be faster, hence more efficient? Mary Chia beauty and slimming specialist shows us that we too might lose 6 kg in three weeks, Darlie claims that we can have whiter teeth in 2 weeks, oh, and did you know that the Audi A3 Sportback is supposedly ‘Harder Better Faster Stronger’? Regardless of their fields, advertisements all seem to be propagating that ‘faster’ is better for us.
You’re just a college kid, though, and all that ‘career’ and ‘employment’ stuff seems intimidating, but not immediately relevant. You are blissfully cocooned from the inferno of the real world, but that doesn’t stop you from seeing it being played out on a smaller scale, college style. You are an average university undergraduate taking the nth class at the nth period at the end of an nth day. The lecturer’s voice melts into a slushy monotone. Time’s at a standstill. You groan inwardly, hands drumming against the table, in time to the quick, rhythmic thud of your own impatient heart. You have a meeting to attend to after this, and badminton training after that. Your thoughts characteristically begin to whir again, faster, faster, faster… ‘Liu Zong Yuan of the Tang Dynasty wrote this piece when he was demoted by the imperial government and sent into exile…’ You look at the lecturer blearily. He looks a bit like this Liu Zong Yuan character himself, with his funny beard and consternated expression. Imagine, being at the height of your career, when you are suddenly sent off into some nondescript town with nothing but mountains, rocks and untamed grass. You begin to feel sorry for this dude. ‘He clearly struggled with his demotion; if you would look at the tone of the passage…’ Who wouldn’t be upset? Isn’t that the point to keep up with society’s petty demands? The world won’t wait for anyone, you know. You throw the lecturer a haughty, condescending look, which thankfully escapes him. You remember how often you fret over university credits. Everyone around you collects credits by the handful, like M&Ms from a giant bowl. ‘It’s better to work hard in Year One and Two and take more credits’ a senior tells you, ‘and play later’. You translate that as ‘Do everything quickly now, so you’ll have plenty of time to really enjoy yourself in the future’. You can’t make head nor tail of your timetable, yet you are already worrying about internships, going online, frantically scanning for companies requiring ‘fresh talent’ and downloading application forms. You’re eager to join after-school clubs. After all, if you don’t do it now, you might lose out, and you won’t get more chances after that. It doesn’t matter if they aren’t really your interests; you just have to quickly sign up somewhere. As for relationships, don’t even get me started. After a year in college, you notice that the ‘Couple Spotting Months’ are October, March and May. They’re everywhere. Dainty-looking girls sitting at the back of their boyfriends’ bicycles, ‘hand-holders’ in libraries, pairs cosying up to each other in dorms. College dating is no strange phenomenon to you, but what baffles you is the speed. The same girl who smiled hand-in-hand with a youth in basketball shorts could be the sniffling figure sitting next to you during a lecture just months later. ‘However,’ the lecturer’s voice interrupts your thoughts like a dull knife into melting butter, ‘his period in exile produced some of his best works. In this piece, for example, he shows us, via the tale of his excursion with his friends, how he came to derive comfort from nature. As he lay down on the grass, he only heard the gentle passage of the stream which soothed his ears, the boundless, limitless sky which calmed his weary spirit…’ As you lie down on the grassy hill next to the volleyball courts in between classes two weeks later, the breeze on your face is no longer a startling visitor. Your skin tingles from the warmth of the sun’s rays. You are first aware of the shouts and conversation, but it dies away into a pleasant hum, which weaves itself in between the wind and the birdsong that now have an almost tangible auditory identity. It is too bright to look at the sky, but you know it is of an azure blue, with lazy, drifting clouds. Perhaps an airplane might leave a smeared white streak as it languidly made its way toward another flashy airport. You have three more classes after this, but it bothers you less now. Your thoughts, which were usually aptly characterised as deranged horses on a track, are—pardon the cliché—somewhere in the clouds. Leaves overhead rustle gently, and you understand, with your eyes closed, that you have no obligation to make every minute of your life rush hour. a
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The Taida Student Journal has been active since 1995 with an ever-changing roster of student journalists at NTU. Click the above link to read about the authors Archives
May 2024
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