Stepping into University yanked me roughly out of my comfort zone.
I was told that conformity was key at university. And I was told correct - at the beginning anyway. Reveling in the nature of my pseudonym for as long as I can remember, my first days at university saw me with no choice but to conform - or at least pretend to conform - in order to maintain a low profile. Remain unnoticed. Invisible. Comply with orders and expectations.
It was interesting though. It put me in the company of others who were also irritated at the level of change they had to go through in order to prevent harassment from the freaks that roam the place.
The harassment came in the form of constant interrogation by the second year students who seem to be in general, a hopelessly misguided and unenlightened bunch. They were of the opinion that they had every right to question us on certain important facts which were definitely of concern to them- such as:
1. What do your parents do for a living?
2. What race/ religion are you?
3. Where do you live?
4. Are you married or on the brink of marriage?
5. Do you have a boeyprend? (The last was no typo)
And of course, it was expected that we answer all the above questions and more, in order to show ‘due respect’ to the ‘Aiyas.’ The inability to, putting it very politely, tell them to mind their own business, was what went against the grain the most. But it could not be helped. Paying heed to parents, friends, colleagues, former teachers and university alumni, this nonconformist suitably impressed her peers with slightly better Sinhalese than the usual pathetic attempts, and a sickly sweet smile enough to disgust anybody - from a hardened cynic to a doting grandma - and forded all probing questions with admirable ease and style!
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Some were not so lucky though. Cornered in the less populated passageways and berated about their race and where they came from, in addition to being surrounded by the loser Aiya (I say this because not all our seniors are losers) population and being yelled at, their first days at university were a little rough.
Looking at our beginnings at University compared with other Universities and other faculties though, we cannot complain too much. We seem to have had it easy. And that is the biggest problem - that we can look at all this absurdity and be reconciled to it, and the fact that no administration of any of the state universities does a thing to stop the ragging. A certain group of students will always see fit to inflict on their juniors, the same humiliation and belittlement they were subjected to, and the vicious cycle continues, because hey, in the end its all for our own good; ragging- university’s great equalizer.
Aside from the mild verbal abuse at my university though, things have been far better than expected. My lot - a very large circle of good friends, stick by each other always. A significant quest that takes up much of our time is to find at least one toilet that works and to find a hangout place that is not infested with a certain number of freaks. So far all I can say is we have not been successful, so here’s hoping for better luck in time.
Until then, sickly sweet smiles turned on when necessary, we do our attitudes proud by either ignoring the losers or navigating the labyrinthine passages in such a way that we avoid largely populated areas where all those jobless and unwholesome congregate. And life is, for the most part, good! |
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