Act Two, Scene One

After our journey through the various Delhi University colleges, it was finally time to make a choice.  

Time: Midnight 26-27 June 

Venue: Virtual world

Take one: Which college are you seeking admission to?

 

A question which remains unanswered for want of a ­definite response.

 

A question which always elicits a toothy smirk from the inquisitive sadist asking it. A question which always agonises the soul answering it in faltering words.

 

Careers teeter at the altar of cut-offs. The past and future are on a nagging spree.

 

Finally all school-leavers-turned-college aspirants glued to their respective gadgets (or newspapers) confronted their fate. It all began with Ramjas College. With the major courses gifted to those in the 97+ club, we were in for a rude shock. But this was just the beginning. Hans Raj, Delhi College of Arts and Commerce and Kirori Mal followed, accompanied by despair.

 

By the time most colleges had launched their missiles, thousands of dreams had been shattered. It was midnight which made it all the more dramatic! Facebook and Whatsapp statuses read tales of perturbation, sorrow, pain, misery… you get the drift. Amidst the abominable lull of midnight, the cut-offs of all the DU colleges were staring at us right in the face.

 

The diabolic sting of the demonic cut-offs is tormenting us to the core of our heart. Aren’t these numbers too exaggerated? Does no college wish to harbour a student scoring 90? 

 

Each one of us – from the introvert to the rambunctious, from the nerd to the carefree, has something to lament about.

 

The commerce students, Jasmine, Vritti and I, bemoan the bleak prospects of getting into our respective dream colleges, and how terrible it feels to see the highest requirements for our stream. Jasmine laments, “ Instead of being a normal step towards higher education, admission into DU has become a coveted prize.” To make matters worse, we have “additional eligibility criteria” to fulfil, which thwarts whatever little possibility exists. Premanshu, the only science student, while basking in the luxury of choices, keeps up the good humour by fretting over the PCM ­roadblock. Geetika is one of those few humanities students who despite unexpectedly high cut-offs have the good fortune of being able to make a choice for themselves. Ummang, already sorrowful at the absence of any alternative to the bachelor’s in journalism and mass communication in DU, accepts the gift of fate. Tarana has another realisation. “All my life I did not argue with my teachers for one mark but it is now that I understand how much difference it makes,” she says. While we are all in the same boat, Ali, who will be studying in Japan, is happy because he “has a yacht running at an arm’s length from this boat.”

 

Somehow, we all want this crucial period of excruciating agony to come to an end, and never return. For once, we all thought we should have a ­distinct reservation for each one of us as well. Even tears refuse to come.

 

The first cut-offs have made our careers cliff-hangers. But optimism, like an old habit, dies hard. Many of us took admission for the sake of securing ourselves a seat, but we still look forward to get our course and college. The dilemma, the quandary about giving preference to course or college gained attention and debate, yet again.

 

Feeling rejected and dejected, we eagerly await the second cut-off list, ­hoping it would rescue us from this abyss. By the time you read this, the second cut-offs would be out. And hopefully each one of us would have landed at a place of their choice. After all, when the going gets tough, the tough get going!

 

Source: HindustanTimes.com

 

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