I arrived at the gate of my new prison (read: college) and scoured the area for familiar faces (read: friendly faces). All I saw was an accumulation unto my conservative outlook of the world.
People smoking, hurling abuses, holding hands and what not.
It was the opposite of what I was taught to be.
The then strangers introduced themselves and I realised how diversified each one of us was in terms of their upbringing, city, culture, religion. An epiphany struck me that I should open to this new environment which was a stark difference to where I lived before (On a side note, epiphany took a long time to strike me but it did so yay)
On a more popular note to make my case for diversity I was introduced to new genres of music. Metal, rock, fusion, djent blared through my roommate’s speakers as new sound waves struck a chord with my brainwaves. I liked it.
I had a very naive approach towards cinema, which included inferior taste, no knowledge of theory or philosophy that constructed it. I was introduced to the grammar of film. I devoured books in my starting months as firstly I wanted to prove my love for films and secondly it was all so fascinating. I introduced myself to the history of film, good websites, video essays that expanded my knowledge only making myself aware of my lack of it. Teachers were detrimental for making me aware of the vastness of the ocean which I considered to be a pond.
Ideas were exchanged. My whole viewpoint on Kashmir destroyed itself and new blocks of knowledge was constructed with the firm hands of my teachers and a novel named “Munnu: The boy from Kashmir”. Two classmates originated from Kashmir and they brought with themselves stories of ground zero, passion for their stand and a seed that was planted in my mind to shatter my construed notion of the issue.
I became aware of how media manipulates us by giving alternative facts, strengthened by my reading of George Orwell’s “1984”. I became aware of websites that helped in your journey towards finding the truth. I saw TV shows that changed my outlook on the world, a rather dark one to say the least. I detached myself from becoming a “fan” of anything even though it has imbibed in me a disconnect from becoming passionate.
This one and a half years have been a great catalyst in helping me construct a critical mind, a mind that analyses things rather factually and logically. While this can seem to be a boon in some cases it is a bane in many other.
My thoughts are diversified but cluttered.
Thoughts like organising my thoughts into a structure rise, but a counter-argument rises too that if I make a structure out of my thoughts isn’t that defeating the whole purpose of diversity? Have I not been studying about the fault of structures and advantages of flexibility.
Diversity has also lead me to a point of confusion that compels me to use the word paradox every now and then. Questions arise and ignorance repels these questions in the back of my grey matter until someone new brings it back from the dead and compels me to fixate on finding the answer to that question.
So the question that I ask myself is:
When will I ever feel satisfied when the more I know makes me aware of the more I don’t know?