School structures can be hard to navigate, and not for obvious reasons. On the face of it, schools present themselves as beacons of growth and knowledge, which isn’t completely a farce, but I do believe they sometimes impede growth much more than incentivize it. Think of all those mornings you’d force yourself off the bed, eyes heavy with sleep, body feeling it might break apart, to only go to school and face disappointments.
I was always predisposed towards writing and the subject in general, and with the right people around you, you can reach heights you didn’t know exist. I couldn’t say the same, because for me, the denial of opportunities by one teacher in particular was the biggest disappointment I can remember having in school. However hard I tried, however hard to impress, to show the skill I thought I had, it just did not go my away.

Mix that with the general uneasy feeling of injustice people feel from the universe, of being denied things they wanted, and there’s a recipe for disaster. Anxieties and anger has always brewed more anger in me than weariness – perhaps time has changed that, but back then I was young, and when you’re young you tend to not wait before your blood begins to boil up. There’s always this presence of wanting something and not getting it, and getting upset over it, and perhaps it’s all a circle until you learn to be content.

But, for the time being, I was experiencing agony of holding back my feelings because as blunt as a person is, they still can’t go ahead and yell at a teacher. That is really just how it is, an example of the school structures that I so detested. I had to hold back, and back and back, until things came full circle and my teacher finally got changed to someone who looked out for me the way I wish my earlier teacher had.

I went on to make a bond worth preserving with her, a quiet teacher from Dehradun who asked for my work before I’d even complete it. There’s some kind of beauty in having a mentor like that, but it’s even better when they mentor you not for the sake of being an adult or your teacher but because they truly want to and wish to and have an interest that isn’t limited to just competitions and prizes. My bond with her made me realize how futile my intentions had been earlier – sure, competitions matter, but how will you do well in one if you don’t work at your art constantly? Art is never static, nor is an artist. It occurs in sputters and sparks, but it’s meant to grow, develop, and become something more than the person, something of the world. I won’t have learned that had I never known how empty it can be to be occupied with the feeling of denial all the time.School structures can be hard to navigate, and not for obvious reasons. On the face of it, schools present themselves as beacons of growth and knowledge, which isn’t completely a farce, but I do believe they sometimes impede growth much more than incentivize it. Think of all those mornings you’d force yourself off the bed, eyes heavy with sleep, body feeling it might break apart, to only go to school and face disappointments.

I was always predisposed towards writing and the subject in general, and with the right people around you, you can reach heights you didn’t know exist. I couldn’t say the same, because for me, the denial of opportunities by one teacher in particular was the biggest disappointment I can remember having in school. However hard I tried, however hard to impress, to show the skill I thought I had, it just did not go my away.

Mix that with the general uneasy feeling of injustice people feel from the universe, of being denied things they wanted, and there’s a recipe for disaster. Anxieties and anger has always brewed more anger in me than weariness – perhaps time has changed that, but back then I was young, and when you’re young you tend to not wait before your blood begins to boil up. There’s always this presence of wanting something and not getting it, and getting upset over it, and perhaps it’s all a circle until you learn to be content.

But, for the time being, I was experiencing agony of holding back my feelings because as blunt as a person is, they still can’t go ahead and yell at a teacher. That is really just how it is, an example of the school structures that I so detested. I had to hold back, and back and back, until things came full circle and my teacher finally got changed to someone who looked out for me the way I wish my earlier teacher had.

I went on to make a bond worth preserving with her, a quiet teacher from Dehradun who asked for my work before I’d even complete it. There’s some kind of beauty in having a mentor like that, but it’s even better when they mentor you not for the sake of being an adult or your teacher but because they truly want to and wish to and have an interest that isn’t limited to just competitions and prizes. My bond with her made me realize how futile my intentions had been earlier – sure, competitions matter, but how will you do well in one if you don’t work at your art constantly? Art is never static, nor is an artist. It occurs in sputters and sparks, but it’s meant to grow, develop, and become something more than the person, something of the world. I won’t have learned that had I never known how empty it can be to be occupied with the feeling of denial all the time.

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