do u do???

Hi, this is Abha............

Sunday, 4 September 2011



Venue: DDCE, Utkal University
Time: 12.30 pm

My 1st step out of the heavy aura, the winds around suddenly subsided. For all around me, the day, rather the time, to be more precise, was rejoicing personified. CWA Intermediate exams had just got over. Guys switching on to crescendo, girls dropped into a light chat, some bickering about the last paper to be an incarnation of deceit. As for me, my mind had cut through all around, racing past my own self, showing me day 1 of this journey!!!

June 4, 2010, saw me within the cool and congregated office room of ICWAI.  My father, wearing his usual haggard expression, had just completed the form fill-up preceding my admission. My uncle, with all his might, was trying to strike sense inside me.  ‘My laxity and laziness might end me up badly’, so he said, leaving me to wonder as to when did I get a chance with all of you around??!! My mother, having nothing better to do, had found solace in moving around, closely watching the progress. My foundations shook when I got to know that Group 1 classes were to get over in a couple of more days more!! So I have to attend Group 2 classes, whereas I had admitted myself in Group 1 coaching classes. As I felt the scorching heat transcending my superficial self while returning back home, I wondered which group I would most likely be appearing in my 1st attempt.

To the extremes of my distress, I appeared none, in nutshell, skipped my 1st attempt, thanking God for the optional clause inserted. The decision, however immature, saved my brain from a near about hemorrhage. For the next 8 months or so after my admission into this prestigious professional course, my days commenced before the clock struck 6, classes starting at about 7, pushing me all through the day, ending up late in the evening. Never a class-ohalic, my hormones could never resist the call of my bed, neatly drawn, thus after. Dragging myself to my table was the most onerous task I had ever known in those hectic hours. Never before the value of time was of such ghastly essence. I had already begun my preparations for appearing for both the groups in the next chance, when all hell broke loose. Ultimate lethargy, hi-fi acidity, leveled anemia, all had silently crept into my being, without the least of hints. Doctors’ opinion; Increased exposure to solar heat, erratic food-schedules, and what not, had done their tricks. I was strictly prescribed a handful of medicines, cutting short my trip to coaching classes, 10 kms. apart from my residence. Whether my teachers saved their wrath, or let go off, I didn’t know. Following thereafter was my uncle’s arrival with his family from U.S., 6th of February that was, after almost 3 years, for his elder son’s thread ceremony,. The month flew away, leaving behind celebrations and my book shelf almost locked.  Now, with less than 3 months for my next examination, I clumsily discarded the idea of appearing for both the groups. The least bones and last efforts of my corporeal identity were down on my books. Cost and Management Accounting, Indirect Taxation, Operation Management & Information System, the 4 idols they had become.  With no coaching for the subjects, a little more than half of the classes in the Institute, a fresher had taken her stand (a fresher I was to commerce, being a graduate in science) to mingle herself in these foreign land. But as I delved deeper, I discovered that my only barrier was time itself, and not the difficulty or trick in the subjects.

But more obstacles were to come my way. I witnessed in those days, the draconian impacts, a joint family could levy upon you. It was the season of functions and celebrations. ‘No’ was no less than an offence; I had to follow my family into all get togethers and ceremonies. Not less than 7 or 8 of them followed one after the other. I almost believed the saying that so long you are average, all is well. But once you have deadlines to touch, all kinds of undermining diversions drop in from nowhere. My compulsory programmes and shows, 3 of them to be exact, along with their rehearsals, had to be attended for fear of losing the membership I had so struggled to attain in the bygone years.

My exams were placed right through Rajo, the most wildly observed occasion in our culture; for me, the only numbered days in a year, when all relatives from far and wide gather at our place, our residence being the epicenter of activities. The tryst had now taken a worse turn; the congregation was shortened but not entirely deleted. Perhaps they had no inkling about the stranglehold of the situation I was crashed into. My answer papers for CMA, OM & IS and IDT revealed good study, mad study and selective study, respectively. A single consolation I met with, was that I had done the best I could to fight my mis-fate away. I had squeezed the last juices of my brains to shake out the best out of my limited knowledge and half stepped preparations.

My marks, as a layman may guess, were shattering. But what may fail a genius was the fact that I had missed my clearance by a matter of 6!!! A slight pull down did snapshot my worse moments; dealing with an underrated performance was better, however funny and crazy the statement appear. 

Thus ended my 1st year in this alien world with me facing opposite contours at every step. The fever that fate was bent upon on throwing over me did grasp me for a while, but could not doom me. The whole span taught me to stand up straight in the midst of tormenting upheavals to let others know that if you have a great rush of water sweeping your feet off at a maddening speed, you are also endowed with your own limbs to fight off the cut through. Hence we learn to swim in life rather than drowning ourselves in its pits!!! Isn’t it???