A Carefree Walk with Whitman

    Walt Whitman says, “I celebrate myself, and sing myself.” If he had met me during my PG days, he’d probably high-five me and say, “You got it, buddy!”

    While my classmates were busy chasing PowerPoint perfection and seminars, I was in the canteen, sipping chai like it was the nectar of Nirvana. External achievements? No thanks, I once forgot to submit an assignment and proudly told my professor, “I’m focusing on internal growth.”

    I didn’t memorize theories, I lived them. When others quoted Freud, I quoted the tea shop uncle’s wisdom: “Pass or fail, tea will never betray you.” Deep stuff, right?

    One day during our viva, I just smiled and said, “Ma’am, your questions are good for the mind, but my soul wants silence.” I don’t know if she was impressed or confused, but hey, I passed!

    You see, I follow the Whitman way, dance like no one’s watching (even if the warden is), nap guilt-free during study hours, and write poems on the last page of notebooks that were meant for linguistics notes. That’s what I call multitasking.

    I don’t remember the marks I got, but I do remember laughing till my stomach hurt during hostel power cuts or the time I accidentally entered a boys’ seminar, smiled confidently, and said, “Wrong class, right vibes.”

    So here’s my philosophy. Life’s too short to worry about things that won’t matter next week. Celebrate yourself, flaws, fun, and all. Be the poem, not the footnote.

    And if anyone questions your chilled-out vibe, just whisper like Whitman,“I am large, I contain multitudes. Also, snacks.”

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