School’s out, where are you headed?
A COMFORT ZONE IS A BEAUTIFUL PLACE, BUT NOTHING EVER GROWS THERE - UNKNOWN
students await their Board exam results here in Dubai, I can’t help recalling the time I was in their shoes, and poised to leave school for good.
Transitioning from school to college was one of the most difficult experiences of my life, but what sometimes seems like a drastic change can turn out to be a blessing.
Brought up in Dubai in the 80s, my childhood and teenage years were spent in a small, safe world made up of parents, the neighborhood playground, friends and school mates.
Life in Dubai (like anywhere else, I imagine) was simpler back then. We passed our time reading books, playing games, having real conversations (and real fights!). We used noisy rotary dial phones to call up friends. We looked forward to the few TV and radio programs the city’s broadcasting services offered. On Fridays we went for picnics to Safa Park and Jumeirah beach, tagging along a transistor so we wouldn’t miss Casey Kasem’s American Top 40 countdown. A trip to the mall or Sindbad’s gaming arcade was a rare treat. When we were lucky enough to get an Atari, the most important thing in the world was trying to beat each other at Pac-Man.
As summer holidays rolled around, if not travelling anywhere, we had no choice but to rack our brains for solutions to boredom, and were always secretly relieved when school reopened.
My routine was one that so rarely changed over the course of a decade, that the idea of leaving Dubai seemed unreal, bizarre even, till the day it actually happened.
On the last day of school we ‘autographed’ each other’s shirts and happily posed for a class photo, only vaguely aware of what we were saying goodbye to – not just each other, but also a close-knit way of life, familiar places and pastimes, the yearning for which would only surface years later.
The first twinge of sadness became apparent on my flight back to India - I felt no excitement or nervousness for what lay ahead, just a longing to be back at my school desk, surrounded by the comfort of familiar sights and sounds.
Getting off to a fresh start in Ahmedabad, Gujarat (my parents chose the city because my aunts lived there at the time, and they believed that would give me some moral support; it did!), I was faced with a huge culture shock. Being unfamiliar with Gujarati, the native language of the state, (my conversational Hindi was also very basic) put me in some difficulties as far as communication was concerned. I remember directing a rickshaw driver solely through hand gestures once - that and many other amusing incidents led to some good natured ribbing from my new friends.
Even though we had just met, I call them friends because they went out of their way, from day one, to make me feel at home. I had come prepared to be ignored, even ridiculed. Most of them knew each other from earlier, and I was the odd one out. Faced with a lingering sense of loss after leaving school and my best friends behind, I would sometimes sulk in my room at tea time – only to be rescued by whoever was passing by, to join them for a cup.
I was sitting alone in the college canteen one day, pretending to read, when a perky girl came over to my table and introduced herself. “You’re sure you’re okay? You can join us if you want,” she said, pointing at a group sitting a few feet away. I had never encountered such openness and genuine feeling towards an outsider – because let’s face it, that’s what I was, at least for a while.
I gradually became accustomed to my surroundings and grew to love them (my language skills improved tremendously too). I recalled being in tears when my mother left for Dubai after settling me into the college and hostel. Though her heart might have been breaking, she said, “Just try it out for a while, and see how it goes.”
There were many lessons learned during those three years at college, the biggest one this: Even if you don’t fit in, you’ll survive. Be open to new things, and new people. Life is ever-changing. You might be surprised at what you find next.