Reunion With My Old Self
I went back to my alma mater. Since I am moving to another country for a job, I won’t be seeing it for a while. I knew it was going to be a little emotional for me but I didn’t know it was also going to be cathartic.
Who Was That Person?
I could see myself walking those pavements. I was perpetually in awe of the proud buildings, of those intimidating holy men immortalized through those dreary statues and of those traditions never imposed but always displayed.
I remember my routine, the extra-curricular activities I joined and friends I made. I remember where I hanged out, what I promised myself I would become and what I tried hard to achieve. I remember my failures, the people I hated and impressions I made.
But I don’t quite remember who I was.
It was as though I was reliving someone else’s life, like I was remember someone I knew back when I was in college. I don’t remember who I was then.
I wonder if that version of me would recognize who I am today.
I had dreams then. I didn’t want a 9-5. I wanted to be a writer and write stuff that would matter. I wanted to be a correspondent to an international magazine or create a news program that would be syndicated internationally.
I wanted to interview influential personalities and also become influential in the process.
I wanted the whole world as my office. I wanted to spend months with indigenous peoples, on mountains and explore cultures.
I wanted to know more about the world and share it.
I built those dreams as I pass by the great words of influential people engraved on the walls and stones around the campus. I wanted to do something that matter just like the great men honoured around our university.
Then bills started coming in. Expectations started becoming real. Life, quite simply, happened.
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