Handling Perspectives

As of late, a string of ideas has been occupying my mind, but I am afraid that I have lost the touch to convey it to others with precision, be it through my writing, or my speaking. It is as if my worst fears have come true- losing the ability to communicate. Man is a social animal. It is physically impossible for him to not communicate or socialize without spiraling into the wilderness that is the human mind. The mind is like grass- It can morph into something wild, something unruly, and can even harbor danger if not cut or shaped properly. If one "trims" his mind to serenity, he possesses something of great beauty and value.

The human mind is thusly trimmed by the environment it is allowed to develop in, or the experiences that a person goes through. As far as I am concerned, I have had many such trimming experiences. I can proudly say that my mind has developed and begun to think out of the box since I joined NCC roughly two years ago. 

My schooling was in the U.A.E.- primary and secondary schooling to be exact. I spent most of my life in the cocoon that Dubai covered me with: Dubai is a great place to enjoy, and an even better place to live, but I would never recommend spending one's childhood there in a CBSE school. The reason is none other than the lack of exposure that one faces there. I felt like the people there were the same, innocent set of migrant Indians looking for a way to live their lives and provide the utmost comfort to their homes. Everyone there was able to relate with each other instantly. However, to ACTUALLY understand people, one must not be able to relate with others in one glance. The pool of people one confronts on a daily basis must be diverse; and different. Only then will they be able to "get to know each other". 

My lack of exposure to different types of people and scenarios limited my perception to a hilariously confined little box. I could not even imagine life out of said box. It was like I were a one-dimensional being, with my mind unable to comprehend life in multiple dimensions. This is exactly why the last six years were a bit fast for me to comprehend- as if I were doused with cold water during a long nap when I was dreaming about things with only good outcomes. 

NCC gave me a chance to explore life away from the comfort that my family provided me with, a life where I got to empathize with others' pleasure AND pain. I have been fortunate enough to attend my sixth camp, with the most recent one having been held in Jorhat, Assam. My parents, being cool but slightly orthodox, had to be persuaded quite a bit so that I would be allowed to attend said camp. 

The day after I got the selection to the camp, I approached my folks rather hesitantly, for I did not know how they would react to me going somewhere so far away. I tiptoed to their room after evening prayers (for that is the time when we debate- about everything that is wrong with the world, and me and my sister's career options). I vaguely remember the intro of the song "Lose Yourself" (His palms are sweaty, knees weak, arms are heavy...) playing at the back of my mind as a piece of background music when I faced my parents and a very curious sister. 

An awkward silence prevailed. They looked at me, and I at them.

"What is it?" They asked me rather nonchalantly after what felt like  a good three hours (though it was only actually three seconds. Talk about relativity of time- Time passes faster for people who enjoy it, and slower for people who do not- a theory which I will only be happy to explain in future articles).

"What? Can't I talk to my family without expecting something in return?"

They squinted at me, like the three bears from 'Goldilocks and The Three Bears'.

"You can," Mum replied, "But you usually don't."

Busted.

Mustering all the courage I had gathered in my life of nineteen years, I told them that the camp I had been selected for was in Assam.

Allow me to interrupt your flow of reading the above dialogues- for a very valid reason too. There is a phrase, a sort of saying that people mutter when something usually annoying (like my sister, or a gnat) goes away- "Sweet Silence". If you ask my opinion, I would say that silence, in fact, is far, VERY far from sweet. Au Contraire (Au Contraire is a French word- sometimes I feel like French words  better describe situations in English literature than English words can), it is deadly, like the calm before a storm. Silence usually means a lack of emotion. If one does not talk but makes an expression on one's face, it does not become silence, and that is because that expression talks. Silence is when no form of communication takes place. It is physically impossible for one to determine what is going on in the other's mind during silence. This is perhaps the worst punishment one can bear. In fact, if you try keeping quiet amid a conversation, and maintaining silence (no expressions or monkey businesses whatsoever), you will see that the other person will mentally struggle, or make an effort to fill the gap caused by the silence that you very unceremoniously dumped on the conversation. 

Such a deadly silence hung in the air like Damocles' sword above my head. The tension in the room was so thick that you could cut it with a knife (or rather a hacksaw, to be precise). I, like normal homo sapiens, felt the need to fill the silence with nonsensical words, so I started rambling about the details of the camp- and I continued to do so for about 48 hours (48 seconds, but it felt like hours).

"-come back on the 16th, by train too, so it will be a good experience for me-"

"You can go."

"-lots of people, a new culture and tradition, maybe make new friends whom I-"

"Go."

"-accompanied by an ANO. Our Anu Miss said that it would be a great experience too. Maybe I can-"

"OHFORGODSSAKEGOTOASSAMORANTARCTICAORWHATEVER

JUSTKEEPQUIET!"

"Oh."

Well, that was easy.

And so, on the 29th of February, at 0700 hours, my friend Teslin and I  hunched with our respective families who had come to "send us off" to Assam, and with our luggage within which lay half a dozen things we would forget were even in our possession during the days of the camp. The boys bought, at most, one bag each, while I and Teslin had a minimum of three each. 

The next twelve days of my life can easily be marked as one of the best days of my life. Time flew like a whirlwind, and I was swept off my feet. I met a ton of new people, learned of so many beautiful cultures, integrated with people of my OWN directorate (Kerala and Lakshadweep) as well as with people of other states, learned a bit of Kannada (two words which I kept using back and forth, but it still feels like an achievement), a bit of sign language (with the help of which I was able to learn Kannada), got to wear a saree without looking like a ribbon tied around a pencil, ate a variety of cuisines, experienced six whole days of Train-lag (if that is even a word), wore three jackets simultaneously, perfected drill from a senior cadet whom I have come to respect a great deal, and won a volleyball match wherein my primary aim was to not get hit by the ball. I can say with full confidence that all the thirty cadets who came for SNIC-JORHAT 2024 became one big family, and developed a bond we will never cease to remember. The memories that we captured in our phones and put as our highlights are just a tainted, washed-out version of the rush of life and color that we were lucky enough to experience within two weeks.

Almost all the articles that I have written have a touch of my own perspective- the way that I react to different situations. It is how I express myself. I am proud to say that NCC has shaped my perspective- not inside the box, but to look at the things outside it, and to climb out of my comfort cave (because comfort ZONES are overrated, and caves best describe the "ancientness" of the way we think). By penning these articles, I aim to impart to you a bit of what I have been able to learn through my days as an NCC cadet- a change in perspective; to show you how you miss slight details in the littlest of things, and hopefully, to open your eyes so that you notice them.

Like the slight detail that when you read the above article in your mind, the subconscious voice that read it to you is actually your own voice, laced with a slight echo.

Some sites you have GOT to visit:

 https://addca.com/adhd-coach-training/ADHD-Blog-Details/discomfort_with_silence/

https://www.history.com/news/what-was-the-sword-of-damocles

https://nccauto.gov.in/microsite/kel&lak