Still pending. Keeping hoping.
1. Life changes. Last year at this time, I was in India, and counting sleepless nights, refreshing my inbox every two seconds, waiting for my admit emails. Or rejection ones. By February, I knew all my admit and rejects. Except one. Stanford. They had me dangling by my balls for two months. For two whole months. I’d email the admissions-in-charge (J) on a weekly basis and ask her if there was any decision on my admission application. She’d mail a standard reply,
Still Pending.. Keeping hoping.
I’d scream in pain whenever I’d read those line. Keeping hoping? What the hell does that even mean. I’m hopping in anger. I’d curse J so much in my mind. I’d curse the entire committee who couldn’t come to a decision. After a point, I didn’t even care if they accepted me. I would mentally beg them to just reject me so I could accept some other offer and move on with my life. All I wanted to was to be let of the hook and sleep in peace. Finally, after the two most painful months of my life, on April 6th, I got my admit letter. I was glad I kept hoping. I was so glad I didn’t give up hoping even for one second of those miserable two months. Ah, how life changes. One night, wide awake. The other, eyes wide shut.
2. I recently realized that the Stanford gym is open till 1 am. Awesome. I decided to change my routine a bit. Instead of running before dinner, and then going back to lab, I ran after mid-night. So, all I had to do is stop on my way home from lab, run for a bit and come home, take a shower and crash. (Or update my blog). I just found that the treadmill has a cool feature – hill workouts. I’m hooked. Way better than just running on flat ground.
3. Sometimes I wonder, wouldn’t it be awesome if I knew on a daily basis how my role models lived their lives. Each day. Each week. Were they as confused as I am. Did they make so many silly mistakes? Did they have failed relationships? Did they know they’d be great or did they also fool themselves everyday that they were the greatest? Did they wake up during the middle of the night and wonder why they couldn’t go back to sleep again? Did they also have an embarrassing story for every day? If they did, then I have two questions I’d like to ask them – How the hell did they cope with this shit. And why? For heavens sake, why?
“Pain is inevitable. Suffering is optional.” ~ Unknown