P for Pain

 

            P for Pain

 

                                           

P  is for pain,

is also for pleasure.

 

That drop of blood

Which is supposed to torment me

Actually excites me

excruciatingly enough

P is actually for perspective

What pain is for a masochist.

 

Pain is the paint

I brush my body (heart) with

So that I don’t have to

Process my pertinent emotions.

 

Pain is the feeling I embrace

The bruise which I keep on picking

A gift which keeps on giving.

 

The obvious physical pain of

Broken bones

The odious psychological pain of

Broken homes

I embrace it after all

only because 

 I don’t know how to exist

 as a person

Without pain

 at all.

All that angst

 

The Scream by Edvard Munch

Mood - I don't wanna be by Gavin DeGraw

I studied the Geography of the room I lived in,

Every crevice and corner

Couldn’t comfort me enough.

I kept wanting more

How much is really enough?

How big do you want your cage to be?

Animal size?

Room size?

Street Size?

Earth Size?

WE will always feel imprisoned,

if that is what we truly want to be.

We will always wish to be a bird

Only to be greeted with its turd.  

We are bound by certain chains

Which makes us human,

Why not wear it as the jewel

It possibly is

Rather than choke ourselves

With all that angst?

By 

Samyuktha Semi Jayaprakash

The lines we crossed

Clenching till
My molar broke
And puss pour
Still biting down the pain
Of the secrets of yesterday

A peerless phantom
An invisible limp
The line you cross to know me

She shrugged.
A sardonic hmph
Was what my secret amounted to.

Felt relieved & reviled simultaneously somehow!
What now?

Golden Brown

All the gloss , glitter and glue

Cannot photoshop the sheer phobia

Lurking right beneath her skin

Forming a palpable layer,

They attack her

Only when no one is watching.

She seems so bold

But is actually quite brittle

Her quiet melancholy

Muddled by her extensive cacophony.

She is indeed a prisoner of her own device

Trapped in bravado

She just wants to cry.

Yet when her man is watching

She cannot let him see

If the truth is really exposed

Won’t he just flee?

Better to break it off

And be the bitch

Than take it off

And be his bitch.

Of course it is all very problematic

But who are we to judge?

We all mask our frail insecurities

 marinate them with worry &

deep fry it till it becomes golden brown.

The F word.

Failures rock.
A year back , no one would have believed that I believed this. Now , people at least try to listen to me when I try to convince them of this. Baby steps.

It is easy to believe in something when it is only an ideology and you don't have to experience it in action. That's why most people are hypocrites. They don't want to be but usually the gap between concrete action and lofty thoughts swallows 'em up. I always believed that I didn't care about failures and it is a stepping stone to success and etcetera etcetera. Only when I experienced it , I could take a proper look.
Initially it sucks , pains a lot more than you think. Nobody likes change and when things don't go your way it is highly frustrating , stress inducing. Everything feels like falling apart . The same welcoming world of yesterday seems to be menacing . But these so called failures are actually good for you and I will tell you why.

What are these failures anyway?
Society manufactured standards of practice which every person is forced to follow by pressures of socialization such as family , community and organised institutions. However , cool we like to be and not care , every human being lives in a community and social disapproval goes a long way in shaping one's attitude.
Okay , I realise i sound like my 11th standard sociology textbook. Dry , abstract and boring.
Let's lighten up with cliched examples. Eg. The 10th standard board exams are a redundant concept. Nobody should care about those marks. But , most people care about it because these marks are used by families as indicators of intelligence and social prestige. I know a certain family member who makes a list of all the kids she knows who are writing their board exams that year and calls them to check their marks. This inordinate amount of curiosity is the reason why kids run to America lol
What I have realised is most of the failures are not even failures. It is such a strong word with so much stigma attached. They are minor setbacks to one of the possible routes through which you can attain your possible goal.
So hereon I'm gonna use the word setback.

So why does failure setback rock?

It makes you think! I wouldn't be writing this original content on my personal property if i didn't suffer a setback. Usually when one attains what they want a tad too easily , all the problems get swept under the carpet. We just want to enjoy the fruits of our victory that we ignore the weeds. Till they grow long enough to coil around our necks. Minor setbacks make us trim our gardens better ,i.e , keep us well aware and in control of our weaknesses, I would rather lose my way in the play offs and peak during the knockouts rather than have a perfect run in the leagues and choke due to my deficiencies in the finals. 

Usually people who are used to success , define themselves with it. When they lose , that's why it hits them hard. They feel incomplete without it. They even loathe themselves and hate the version which doesn't have it. Accepting and loving who you are is very important and that is not going to happen with the constant halo of success hovering around you. Your happiness should never rely on a contingency . Happiness should be found even in the darkest of places and shouldn't be concentrated in one holy spot. It is the journey and not the destination, I mean sure , if the destination is fun that is definitely an added bonus, 

People have a very narrow definition of success and planned road drawn towards it. Life is never going to let that happen and that's what makes it so interesting. Nobody can control fate and people used to success know that in their heads but never feel that truly until the door is abruptly closed on their faces. It makes you more creative and takes you to paths never travelled before to reach that goal. So it keeps you fresh. 

So failures make you a better at what you do , makes you love yourself for who you are , makes your happiness more intrinsic and makes you creative and understand the uncertainty of life, It is the best teacher there is. 

Most importantly it makes you

STRONGER to take the next blow and probably stand up and deliver the next punch. 

And shows you the ones who truly care. Because life is about those people. You need someone to share all that hyped up success with,

(P.S - All pictures are borrowed)

So yes. Don't be afraid to fail. Don't think of what might happen if x goes wrong. Something can always go wrong. Just give it your best shot and move on. Enjoy your failure , like you enjoy your success, There is nothing derogatory about losing. 

IT IS OKAY TO FAIL. 

Imagine Mountains

What do mountains mean to me?

Eons back! 

At my lowest they are insurmountable challenges that I look up at , with more awestruck worry than inspired determination. Being a fretful diva , I tend to feel that these imaginary mountains are firmly embedded on my tired shoulders.

I hate their stupid hairpin bends , which give my already motion sick tummies a valid reason to unburden themselves. I have a distinct memory of myself , a 7 year old shutting my eyes very tightly whilst hugging my dad’s lap as the auto went up the mountain. Like the tightness and resultant blindness has anything to do with my body’s capacity to deal with the stress of travel!

Oh how I hate the mountains.

Then I climbed a hill. By myself – 2 years back? Symbolism and travelling aside , they do have a plus. They have peaks!

The exhilaration you get when you reach the top , the air feeling fresher than it was a couple of feets ago.

The panaroma! Everything looks small from the top. It gives you perspective , humility – which I lack in abundance.

If you can feel that up a hill , you can definitely feel it up a mountain right?

I don't know why I trekked but I am glad I did. 

But Mountain is also the dude from Game of thrones who killed Oberyn Martell!

So maybe I have mixed feelings about mountains.

I scaled a huge mental mountain today. Scaled one without giving up , a bit battered and bruised and I am definitely feeling the high xD but what happens after this? Climbing down can be slippery , definitely if you’re taking the surfboard called fun down it. Imageries aside, being a beach person I wanted to thank all the mountain people who helped me in this climb. I didn’t necessarily enjoy it but it was an adventure nonetheless. Thank you.

Hope you all enjoy the high too. Think about that if you’re climbing a steep path yourself.

Okay I will stop.

Bye!  

So what do mountains mean to you? 

Forever Young

When is one truly grown up?
He said "When you're more than five feet tall"
She laughed at her seven year old cousin.
But it got her thinking.
When puberty hits?
Was biology even a factor?
Then she recalled all the adult shaped boys she had come across over the years ,
they thought a bit of facial hair signified maturity!
A guffaw should still make sense
however hot and deep it sounded.

Not like she felt very adultish herself.
She had the biological numbers
She did have her own place
and took her own decisions
had romantic interests.

Was self sufficiency the key?
There are quite a number of 'adults' who earned
but who didn't appear to be in control of anything.
Maybe it is all an appearance of self assurance.

Nobody knows what they are doing ~
Life keeps throwing curveballs at you
but you don't even know how to play baseball!
We are all just trying to walk on water
Never figuring life out
and pretending to be an 'adult'

Never appearing to lose control ,
I think losing your concept of what you are
and trying to explore who you are is the first mark of adulthood.
Not piling on premade store bought identities marked 'grown up'.

We all think an 'adult' is someone with a family , job and etcetera
but most of them are just kids who were thrown at the deep end of the pool
very fast
That they appear to be floating with head barely above water
and eventually learn to not sink
is not the slight bit endearing.

Why can't they be swimmers  who learn all the skills or
Maybe they wanna scuba dive or sail in sailboats
or maybe they wanna fly .
Who are we to decide who adults are?

To me an adult is a person who knows who he/she really is or has a clear vision of who they are going to become or who atleast admits they have no idea and is working towards it.
A person who makes their own strategy for life.
Till then we will be forever young
and confused.

Samyuktha Semi Jayaprakash

The guilty hypocrite

When I renamed my blog , I promised myself that I would write only about topics which absolutely gripped me and mattered to me. Filling space is easy. But filling space is why I write exams. I want my words to matter here. It is not my intention to not write in this pretty blog but college life , examinations , holidays - basically life makes it tough to stay true to your other commitments.
And with that assurance of my bona fide intentions,  I begin with this post.

What do you do
When you wake up one day
And find out that
your entire life was a lie?
Not in a Paranoid Schizophrenia way
Oh no sir!
Something which is more subtle yet
equally life altering.

Every positive thought
Every negative one,
Which you may or may have not
admitted to yourself ,
About yourself -
Turns out to be
TRUE!

What do you do
When you wake up one day
And find out that
You are your worst nightmare?

You are everything
You asked others not to be .
In short . you never practised
but  screeched what you preached!

Do you let your new found hypocrisy
eat you up alive?
or
throw up all over the place?

Do you change your morals or your actions?
Or do you wait for this overwhelming wave
of hypocritical disgust which has hit you
to recede back with time
so that you continue to be yourself?

Hope that time will make you
forget this discomfiting discovery ,
so that you can 'move on'
with your self concept intact.

Answer me pliss ya .


- Semi 

We could have it all.

Sometimes when your immediate environment gets entangled in a certain mood , the said mood tends to stick on to you. In this case, the death of a close relative of my friend caused the effect and set my mental wheels into motion. The following points are my abstract thoughts on 'loss'. There is no context for this loss - it can be something as innocuous as losing your favorite toy or something as devastating as losing your limbs. I have presented my thoughts to you in the raw form as it came to me . No explanation ; open to interpretation :) 

1.

When you lose something , it hits you .

Most often like an epilepsy attack

Ugly , painful and most importantly 

SUDDEN. 

2.

It is most important to acknowledge a loss 

when you're down and out. 

However more vital it is for you to 

appraise loss, from a position of 

strength - that so occasionally enraptures you and gives you space to lock up your unresolved emotions-.

3.

We actually never lose anything .

People - good and bad -

become memories - good and bad- 

Skills lost are actually just converted into new ones. 

Energy diverted from one focal point to another. 

4.

Sometimes some one else's loss hounds us so much that 

it haunts us to a point that 

we start imagining their losses as our own

or fantasize those losses in our already pitiable life. 

Not too healthy .

5.

People survive loss of limbs , deaths of loved ones , the vanishing acts of love and a 100 million more life changing horrors everyday and conquer it with panache. guess what? You can too. 

So just take a deep breathe . Close your eyes . And believe. 

Only your belief can save you from your mind manufactured hell . Reality is not the culprit it is your perception -who is your enemy. 

6.

Ain't nobody got time for feeling like a loser

when there is a whole world to win out there

or atleast live.

Chocolates AND strawberries

You all must know that there are two types of people traversing the earth. First, are the cool ones who love chocolate and second are the lame ones who love strawberries. And I hope you are intelligent enough to guess which type of person I am B|- Chocolate of course .

Every individual has a love story. More importantly and specifically – Every individual has a love story of how they fell for chocolate  or strawberry  We gift each other chocolates for birthdays – not fancy strawberries . Some may have strawberry flavored chocolate. But since the name chocolate is involved – chocolate rocks.

This is how I sounded for a long time . And then one day I tasted strawberries accidentally – it was love at first sight.

Okay , what is she SAYING?

For those who didn’t get it already , “I am using a metaphor to convey a larger social message” Those who don’t know what a metaphor means please  leave  google it.

Okay  I’ll cut the know- it- all attitude. Owning some blogspace can do that to you . Metaphors are otherwise known as examples / illustrations. Thu :P

Coming back to chocolates and strawberries….

Life goes like this ->

Like many , I fell in love with chocolates pretty easily and very quickly. And for strawberries.. they had a negative stereotype of girliness ( I am a {tom}girl though) and were/are very hard to find in burning hot Chennai. Whatever strawberry I did manage to taste were rotten by the chennai weather and more importantly by my unconscious prejudice against the poor fruit.

My point is not that strawberries are actually delicious. It is that I never gave myself a chance to enjoy it . I was so preoccupied on protecting my ideology that chocolates > strawberries and so obsessed on winning vocal battles that I closed my eyes to the obvious . If I had gone in with an open mind and hated strawberries – then that is my personal opinion- but since I hated it prematurely because it is in the wrong side of chocolate it is a social problem of stereotypes.

I didn’t even care to research or know about strawberries . After all that fruit would never be a part of my life. However one day ,my dad came home with ‘strawberries’ his boss had gifted him and forced me to take a bite. Reluctantly I took a bite. And yay!! I was right after all. The outer coat was so bitter and the inner part tasted weird too, Nothing like the strawberry icecream we taste in shops . It took me a long time to realise that I should have only the inner part. And it took me a longer time to realise that they were lychees and not strawberries .

I could blame the third party –dad for this confusion. But it is my own ignorance which put me to shame and not his. He in fact never specified what fruit it was. I just assumed they were strawberries – and hated them.

Chocolates and strawberries? They sound too trivial for us to even batter an eyelid. However in actuality there is a much larger problem in hand here. We’re brought up in a society where there is an invisible and ever existent divide between every object – man made and human made . You love pink? You must hate blue! You love Rajini? You must hate kamal! You love India? You must hate Pakistan! See how things escalate?

If we lived in isolation from these opposites it maybe okay (in the smallest way possible) to hate them .And more often than not we have to wear our least favorite color or watch a film of our ‘least’ favorite actor to impress someone. So it is better to understand if we truly hate something or not. I have a friend who hates Hrithik Roshan simply because she loves sharukh khan. Again..what?!

The other day , I watched the 104768^th tamil masala action film produced in the tamil film industry named jilla. The protagonist who initially supports his mafia leader father becomes a police officer (yes , it is indeed ridiculous) . When his don dad asks him why he has switched sides he says , “ When I was with you , I liked what you did. When I came here I just saw the other side and I like this better”Hardly an eureka moment but that is the maximum you can get from a yesteryear cheesy sentimental action film . It does make a lot of sense though. Only when he was forced to become a police, he saw the atrocities of a don (although the moral grounds are indigestible for this argument)

What I am asking is – Why should it be an or question always? Why chocolates or strawberries? Why not embrace all forms of yummy items? ( ignore the diabetes question here) Why should we be pushed to a corner to love something new?

We get too settled with our favorites. We must constantly branch out and experiment new flavors to remain exotic. Midlife crisis shouldn’t be the reason you go for a world tour.

Finally this is my basic thought for the day - Only if you can try you can taste , and only if you can  taste you can fall in love. Don’t let your love for something be the reason for you hating something else.

Hope you got my flow of thought

Semi

The Sickbird

I found this short story in my draftboard and was appalled that a) i wrote this in 2010 b)forgot that i wrote it c) my english was so bad xP I did find it a bit intriguing and so i am posting it. Don't ask me where i got the story line from - I am as clueless. 

Everyone got sick of the sickbird after one point or the other. She always complained about some pain or the other.At first they thought they were real and sympathized with her.That was true even for our hero Hari. She was a distant aunt to him and had come to stay in his house for a week for some unknown reasons.
The event thus follows their first meet : 
Hari came home after playing bone breaking , eyeball scratching basketball and came home with legs full of bruises and tee shirt full of dirt. He headed directly to the bedroom and locked it before his mother could stop him.He started removing his tee shirt and headed to the bathroom which was attached to his room.He was about to open the door when the door opened by itself and a small lady was there in her towel. "AAAHH" he cried out. "Abishtu! Abistusheshu!" yelled the puny lady.
"WHO? who are you?..." 
"I should ask you that, young man! How dare do you come inside an occupied bathroom"
"I.......er.....didn't know. SORRY"
"what sorry? blah blah blah etc etc.....*fie minutes later* OK who are you?
"well, I live in this house........"
"Oh !! HARI!! Ayyo evalavu valandutha!(u have grown so tall!) YOU are leela's son right?!"
"no! she's my mom" he grinned.She didn't get it. Anyways that is the weird introduction


Getting to know the sick bird:
After she finally left his room , hari had a hot shower and came down to have dinner.There only the small lady's voice could be  heard. She was telling them, " Hari is soo naughty! He was waiting outside the bathroom to scare his poor aunty! He doesn't know that I have heart problem.Shiva shiva! My BP seems to be high and heart is slightly starting to ache! Do you have jfienjadj tablet? NO! Oh my god it is such a important tablet nowadays what with all these boys screaming and yelling.........can u buy it......its only rs.200....I will soon pay it back....."
and that was only the beginning of a long list of ailments Hari had never before heard in the 13 years of his life put together , let alone in one place affecting a single woman! Immediate sympathy and impulsive concern were slowly replaced by obvious disbelief and the inevitable deafness that teenagers develop after being over exposed to adults. 
He had no idea who she was and how long she was going to stay. But he was sure as hell that he didn't care about her whereabouts and her illness. He wanted that tiny bundle of sickness to leave his abode ASAP. This apparently exaggerated hatred finds more context after we learn that the sickbird has nested in hari's room and that he is forced to sleep on the hall sofa - ouch. 

Shooing the bird : 
He decided to make her life a living hell - atithi devo bhava not withstanding the test of times - . He couldn't openly ask her to get out, for he would be thrown out if his parents heard of it. So passive aggression won the day.
At first it happened by turning a deaf ear,
"dei hari kanna! I feel very weak , can you go buy me a dozen bananas from the shop?"
Christ! What do bananas even have to do with feeling weak?! He simply continued tying his shoe lace and walked out with his basketball . When he came back two hours later , sweating from head to toe after  playing two practice matches at a trot , the sickbird was still sitting on the same sofa in the exact position from 2 hours ago!
She opened her eyes and very casually asked " Where are my bananas?" .
The next step was learning to say no. So he grinded his teeth and said " No aunty , I am very tired , I am going to sleep".
"WHAT?! tired at this young age? It is no excuse! When I was your age I used to walk 6 kilometers to the railway station and another 5 before I reached my school. We never got fancy footwear and clothes like you kids and ate very spartan food . Now go buy me my bananas or else I'm complaining  you to your parents * all in chaste tamil - translated for you *
Bewildered by her sudden outburst he did end up running the errand for her .

a hopeless hypochondriac or is something graver?

Telling  mom -
6 weeks flew by and there was still  no reprieve for Hari . It took him all his 13 years to convince his parents to give him his own room and yet all it took was an annoying aunty to intrude it! Oh how he would love to play a prank on her. However , firsthand experience had taught him that he would be the one that was crying by the end of it.
Amma was busy in the kitchen cutting vegetables. He pitched in and started cutting the onions. His mom's curiosity got aroused and so she asked , " Fine . What do you want? ".
"Nothing , i just decided to help my mom"
" On a sunday , by cutting onions! Comedy pannadha hari" ( stop trying to be funny hari )
" I know right. I'll tell you a better way - stop inviting guests all the time. That too ones who never help and never leave."
She gave him a long stare - one that usually shushed him and secretly scared him out of his wits - and then after a long silence began speaking.
"Geetha aunty is not an unwanted guest. In fact , we're the ones who forced her to stay here. You do not know anything about her and I am going to tell you some things so that you will truly understand and respect her. However , this should remain a secret and never leave these 4 walls , understand"
Hari nodded his head vigorously.
"Geetha is a very distant relative of ours . I don't want to bore you with details. Two years ago , while traveling to your poonal ceremony , she lost her whole family in a car accident and is suffering from PTSD or post traumatic stress disorder. She believes that she shouldn't have lived and that is why she keeps complaining of ailments which she doesn't seem to have. I need you to be a little patient and sensitive with her hari . I know it has been rough for you , giving up your room which you love so much. Growing up is not only about having your own room but also being sensitive to ones around you"
Hari was stunned by this over load of information and needed time to process it all and hence he simply muttered , "okay".
"Also I never ever want you to judge a person by their appearances and behavior"
"I never did!" he shot back
" I am your mother darling. If someone is unpleasant to you or asks you to do something you hate , promise me that you will try to see their side of the coin also"
"i promise"

Later that evening , Hari's dad Mr.Swaminathan was pleasantly surprised by his son's extremely courteous behaviour to their overstaying house guest. Seeing his wife's mischievous smile he asked her what was happening , to which she replied , " Hari still hasn't matured enough to respect his guests - so I told him a small lie" she winked.
" By the way when is the sickbird leaving? I'm sick of her trying to make me believe that she has pulmonary edema and that her blood vessels are leaking blood or some other impossible medical condition...! "
" I never asked you before swami... but why is she like this?"
"Oh this! She has just been craving for attention since birth - a hopeless hypochondriac . Hope her husband picks her up soon enough."

Indian mothers! xD

Hari never learnt that it was a lie and went on to become a very hospitable host in life( so much so that many relatives had a 'hari day' in their calendar and visited him atleast once a year).Geetha aunty aka sickbird continued to complain of weak blood vessels and hernia and even dyslexia wherever she went. Leela died a contented mother filled with secrets that made her son into a fine young man.
 

Law : my dream

This is one post of mine which made me realize how much I love law. Hope it convinces and wins you over too <3 

The world is a playground for the young ones. I have a cousin who solemnly resolved to be a chef when he was six years old , a police officer when he was 10 and currently he dreams of being an astrophysicist. Choosing one's career is never easy and I have friends who have finished their schooling and still have no idea about what they want to become or want to do with their lives.

However, thankfully I was never allowed the luxury of indecision by my mother (who works in a school and thus is quite knowledgeable about the workings of a student's mind) .I had to choose my career by the time i was in eight grade, so that I could plan for the road ahead.

I picked law.

The books you read , shape your personality. While we are all proud of the non fiction and the 'serious' books we read, it is the fictional stories which silently leave their mark in our lives. So naturally, when we read the Enid Blyton classics like 'secret seven' and 'famous five' - we all want to be detectives. Surely how tough will it be to catch smugglers hiding in islands and find treasure buried under moors?

Then we mature. We get lucky and lay our hands on one Erle Stanley Gardener's many 'Perry mason' novels. Courtroom drama at its best. Fighting for your wrongly vindicated innocent clients can never bring one unhappiness. And we find out that lawyers are the real deal. Detective like Paul drake can only uncover the facts and policemen like sergeant Holcombe can only piece together the facts. However, lawyers are the ones who go to the sacrilegious courts and fight for justice and prove what really happened. They are the messengers of social, economic and political justice.

However we get refuted with logic. Perry mason at the end of the day was a peerless hero, he was larger than life and sadly our careers are limited within the constraints of reality and practicality. Then we get even luckier and read John Grisham. Who said lawyers were gods? They have their flaws too and are also equally oppressed by the system as everyone else.

We learn that from books like the firm and the partner that beating the system is easier than following it - especially when everyone is doing the wrong thing. Yet, we see the protagonist finally overcome all odds and succeed. That tells us there is always a way, no matter what everyone else tries to make us believe. Steve Martini's 'prime witness' a lesser known book and it inspire me the most. While all the books showed how a big problem can be easily solved, this owned showed how a seemingly simple one can in fact be so tough to solve. This told me there will be a dull moment when you are doing something you love.

From all these books i derived the biggest sources of inspiration for law. But, this mad worship of books is not the only reason foe me to choose law. One thing sociology teaches us is that 'no event, how much ever it looks so -is simple.' Many factors coalesce to form a phenomenon.

Law requires speaking skills. While I can chat for hours on the phone with my friends it is infinitely more difficult to speak on stage regarding an issue. So taking law was above all a daring step to conquer my fear of public speaking. While many laughed at my decision for the same reason, I find it a matter of pride that I chose to convert my weakness to strength. Participating in Mock parliaments, class debates, school dramatics club has in fact boosted my confidence to speak. 

Blogging has brought me in contact with people all over the world and opened my previously blind eyes to all the burning issues, that is savaging our beautiful world. While my blog 'Semi's stories and sharings' is certainly not a formal forum, it has been a great learning experience for me - where I have written various genres, about different points of view and incidents. It has certainly reinforced my desire to work in a profession which is relevant to today's society and problems.

Convinced that law is my destiny, I chose to take up humanities stream for my high school. It is rather a rare branch to take up in my state - if not in my country and I am happy that I did take up the subjects I did. I found History, Psychology, sociology and economics very relevant and interesting

. History taught me about all the functioning systems of previous centuries. The norms and values of every era are very different and the one thing I learnt was that institutions which have been agreed upon and which fit the current context need to be upheld no matter what. And any defiance leads to war or destruction of entire empires and dynasties. In this context, upholding democracy through law - our generation's distinct system, must be upheld no matter what.

Economics elaborated on the pressing matters of a capitalistic economy - matters which desperately need to be looked into and which has great scope. The most important examples being Inclusive Growth and Income inequality. Psychology informed about the contemporary problems that influence our psyche and sociology informs us about the historic and structural factors that determine our lifestyle and opportunities.

Whatever I learnt these two years in school has fueled my passion to become a lawyer. And I sincerely hope that this statement of purpose comes across to you as genuine and from the heart.

xxx being one of the best colleges has been my lifelong dream and it will only incense my passion and motivate my efforts more, if I get a seat in your prestigious institution. Thank you .