A Seven Year Tussle
That, which doesn't kill you, strengthens you. I endorse these words having spent 7 long years in academic confinement. Now, when I have done my time in that condemned institution, I regret the wrong choice I made in opting for engineering. My memory takes me to the hostel-life. The first year was a fight for a place in the boisterous crowd of hard-baked sadist. I found myself a misfit in that cradle of wild beliefs. Staying peaceful was cowardice, exploiting others was finesse. Utilising time for anything apart from gossip was not tolerated. I still made it into the second year. I chose to stay alone and went headlong in pursuing my interests. For the first time I was all to myself with none to question me. I bought a tape-recorder; bought a good many cassettes; freely read non-academic books, which I couldn't under my father's regime. Gossip was a major time-killer. I developed a taste for it. I literally forgot the purpose of staying away from my people. The result: I