Supervivientes!

thats the word for "Survivors:" in spanish..

I survived the mid-terms even with a couple of blows. I can say this today, for it took me time and emergency control measures. It came as a shock to me, I had tried so hard and gotten so far, in the end it didnt even matter.. not really, I was mistaken for it does matter. so what if your accuracy level is low, so what if your grade puts you way below your expectations; in the end what matters is what you retain in your head. the energy, in terms of time, effort and sincerity, nothing goes waste. even the law of thermodynamics proves that.

you take the support of experiences to pull you out of the rut. and what better experience than that of Nando Parrado. We had Nando speak to us live in our school on the day of the last mid-term, of how way back in the 1970's he and a bunch of rugby teammates survived a place crash, lost his mother and sister, lived on the andes n the most dire circumstances of lack of food, water, warm clothes, survived an avalanche, and then walked 140 kms of the Andes to reach civilization and be rescued. lessons learnt from him, no one can beat luck. why did he have to sit in the seat beyond which the plane broke into two during the crash , why did the remaining part of the plane have a soft landing, why did the avalanche bury them just well enough to insulate them from a terible blizzard, why oh why.. the list is endless. next lesson, life goes on and in the process eveyone learns to survive. the survivors of the plane crash learnt to live in the Andes in practically inhabitable circumstances for 2.5 months, in the peak of winter. while at the same time, their families mourned them, missed them and learnt to live without them. there is nothing in this world that you can't do, nothing that can defeat you but yourself. in Nando's words, it was an interesting and humbling expereince.

ain't no mountain high enough, ain't no river wide enough..

then we went to costa brava to revitalize ourselves from the rust of the academia.. and wat better way than to drive, cook, drink, ramble, sing and dance! complete in an antique wooden mediterranean architecture setting, the picture of grandma's fireplace, woods straight out of robert frost's poems, plantations of apples, olives, grapes, and the snow capped pyrenees winking at you from the horizon.. and even then if you felt rusty, you figured out ways to pull yourself upto speed. drink lots of water, listen to music, dance your heart out, cook, read, eat and talk to people. take advice, feel bad and introspect. step by step the rosy tint reappears on your glasses. it has on mine.

i have miles to go before i sleep, and have promises to keep, but I have realised i will survive and as i go along the road, I will find the key.