Happy to share that I've completed my Master's in English from EFLU, Hyderabad.
Ironically, academics drew me in when I was a little too old to be a collegiate—first the Diploma at 31, and now this Master’s degree at 51. (. (I think I did well with a Gold Medal in the former and a 7.88 GPA in the latter.)
Barely 21 years old, I was restless and raring to go; I jumped into a job within months of my undergrad Exams. I stood my ground despite my father's requests and assurances that I really didn't need to work. Then, from one job to another, I went where life took me.
The decision to pursue postgraduate studies was neither an impulsive decision nor a pandemic-lockdown hobby. It was more than a bucket list item. I’d been bothered about missing an opportunity to study further for many years now.
So, after some research into different syllabi and wise guidance from a trusted few, I zeroed in on the English and Foreign Languages University, Hyderabad—a decision I’m glad I took for various reasons. Even before I signed up, I felt this course was brilliantly structured, extremely interesting and relevant.
The entire experience was as enriching as the course itself. I had to spend 15 days away from home every semester—something that I wasn’t aware of when I enrolled. This was probably the hardest part of the whole deal. Every semester exam would either coincide with or fall very close to my husband's or my child’s birthday or a work deadline. Prioritising work and family, I decided to skip two semesters, but I came back with gusto to complete the course. A few people in my circle believed I would drop off at that point, and many made fun of this "unnecessary" stress I had taken upon myself.
Getting away was the biggest challenge, but thanks to my employers and family, I managed to do it. And once I got there, I lived a story-like parallel life that felt surreal.
I roomed with girls less than half of my age and lived like a 24-year-old. All I had to do was take care of myself and study all day. The days were very long, with me waking up to chilly sunrises and hitting the bed a couple of hours before sunrise. My day involved attending six to seven hours of classes, and the only time I stepped out of my room was to drag my feet to the Hostel Mess (dining area), without bothering to change out of the PJs and flip-flops. A good day would have me doing the laundry or taking walks around the sprawling, gorgeous, green campus, smiling at lovebirds, the feathered and unfeathered kind.
Of course, there would be the remote handling of my own home thousands of kilometres away, be it ordering groceries or firefighting a teen’s emotional outbursts.
My batch was an interesting bunch of students: the mind-bogglingly hardworking, already armed with multiple degrees, aiming for more, driven by undeterred focus; some studying only to make their families happy, and a few, using the time to do something productive while waiting for the right job.
Especially interesting was a group of youngsters who had orchestrated a fine balance between the chaotic clamour of the head and the heart. I met students who pursued their academics and professions with the same passion as their other interests, like music, writing and stand-up comedy—interests that were more than just a ‘hobby’. This probably wouldn’t have worked during my younger days. My generation was predominantly driven by the head, always ready to drop their dreams at the whisper of a demotivating word or thought. As an aside, I want to say at the cost of repeating myself that now is a great time for youngsters willing to pursue multiple interests simultaneously, without being pigeonholed into one job.
Though I was one of the oldest in my batch and the other batches as well, I was glad that I wasn’t the only one. There were senior and retired professionals who were there just out of a passion for the language or a desire to learn something.
The rest earned after the struggle is sweet, but I will miss the moments of losing myself in the world of language and literature, the hours of focused study, the excitement of learning something new, the thrill of being able to memorise something, and the days of ‘me-time’ without much guilt. And yes, like I always say, success is a kick that drives you to more rounds of the fight. God knows what the coming years have in store for me, but I wait with a twinkle in my eye, with or without the cataracts.
