#OhThePlacesYouWillGo – From Chasing Answers to Embracing Questions

If you’ve passed by me during my first week at Ashoka, you’ve probably overheard me asking for directions, complaining about the scorching sun, or ordering my fifth lemon iced tea of the day.

In the first few days of August, when campus was abuzz with the chatter of incoming students, I was confused, homesick, and intimidated. The red-brick buildings that had only lit up my computer screen a month earlier were suddenly all around me, brimming with people who all seemed to know so much more than I did. In my classes, I was constantly worried about whether I was participating enough, whether I was asking the right questions, and whether I needed to read more and write better. Yet, I was also full of hope and excitement. I spent my days signing up for clubs and societies, sending pictures of the lawns and skies to my family group chat, and putting up fairy lights in my room.

As I write this at the start of my second year, I feel nothing short of gratitude. Gratitude for professors who let me rant about difficult texts during office hours, who taught me to look for meaning beyond ink on paper, and who made it feel perfectly acceptable to leave class with more questions than answers. Gratitude for my roommate, who made me Maggi while I wrestled with the word count of my essay an hour before the deadline; for friends who cried and laughed over pizzas in my room; for the floormates I ran into while brushing my teeth every morning; and for the stranger who offered me an extra ticket on the Ashoka shuttle.

From sharing chai with the didis as a member of RUHI and brainstorming ideas at the Ministry of Academic Affairs to interacting with eminent authors as part of the Ashoka Literature Festival team, the experiences I have had through clubs, societies, and fests have ensured that some of my happiest moments have come from creating, planning, and occasionally panicking alongside people who constantly inspire me.

Ashoka has taught me that it’s okay not to understand a poem (even as a prospective Literature major!), as long as you don’t give up on it. It has taught me to ask for help, to spend hours rewriting an introductory paragraph, and to ask questions that sound embarrassingly obvious in my head. It has given me friends in STEM who discuss poems with me, and friends in Literature and International Relations who solve maths problems with me. It has given me the confidence to be curious before I am certain. And, most importantly, it has given me my lemon iced tea.

Sneha