Bursting the Bubble

I’ve been on an involuntary blogging hiatus. There are a lot of things I want to write about. What I lack is time and if there is time, I am usually in no state to string words together into a coherent form. Mostly, I've just been tired. After the initial high of living in London started wearing down, I was left with just a lot of questions that I wasn’t sure I  wanted to know the answers to.

The thing about going from a relatively small university like UNMC to a HUGE one like LSE (in terms of student population) is that you can just lose your sense of self completely if you aren’t careful enough. For three years I lived in the UNMC bubbIe. It was like a small community where everyone knew everyone else. Of course there was lots of drama, but I felt like I belonged there. Here I feel like a visitor (or a student tourist according to Chalani) most of the time. Maybe it’s the effect of the city or maybe I haven’t given myself enough time. Either way, I spent most of the time moping about how I am not fitting in and it’s just too tough to keep up with everyone else. I was really beating myself down to the point of a break down. And it did happen; at one point I just couldn’t take it anymore. It’s tough (and embarrassing)to talk about it, but I guess it is important too- If there is anyone else who is in a similar situation, maybe it’ll help them! So yes, I had a small scene. Cried myself out and worried Chalani and my parents to no end. But finally, I am back on track!

I realize I was building up a lot of it in my head. Yes, living in a huge city is intimidating. Yes, studying in a competitive environment like LSE is taxing. But this was my choice.  I chose to come here. And I need to make sure that I do justice to that choice.

It’s not all been bad of course. I’ve somehow come to a point where I’ve, more or less, formed a routine. I am waking up earlier, reading more and even cooking more! 

I know the rule- Pictures or it never happened

The 15 minute walk to LSE is my self reflection time. I take my time, walking slowly,gazing at shop displays, jay walking every once in a while, skipping puddles and navigating myself through the sea of suits. I’ve made some unexpected acquaintances too, mostly servers at restaurants. Like the guy at this wrap place (halal!) near our hall, I go there almost every other day. The last time I went he had a loyalty card ready for me without even asking. I don’t know if I should be embarrassed or proud.

The tourist in me has slowly begun to fade. I don't find everything alien. Now when I go to Trafalgar square I no longer take pictures, I just go there to sit and watch people (in a non-creepy way) be touristy. And I definitely find myself mocking people taking pictures inside the red telephones booths! Who does that? (Okay, I did. Once)

So at the end of the day, letting go of that bubble is painful. But I need that. I need to be propelled into reality and face life by myself. It’s difficult, but I think I’ll be okay.