Nowhere I Belong...

What seems like a long time, 3 years back when I had joined architecture, I was apprehensive if I belonged to the place, and within days my answers were defined as I had hated what all went inside that brightly lit studio. The initial days were miserable because of two things...

One. My hands weren't made to sketch. 

Two. I didn't 'want' to sketch.

The favorite question for every single teacher was 'You're here by chance or by choice?' And, it developed a loathing for those two words, 'chance' and 'choice'. I knew my answer but why would anyone be honest at this place? because all of us knew what would follow. So, a 100% of 'by choice' for the reply and everyone thought 'Finally, a batch of dedicated architects'.

Something weird was happening, and I was feeling weirder with every minute thing that happened. Three teachers taking up one subject, few creepy beings discussing who their favorite architect is or the seniors asking for the mobile numbers of the very few girls that we had in our class; it was all weird. So, when the two small creatures asked us to sketch and dimension a human profile which they fondly called Anthropometrics, I instantly decided for myself that this place wasn't for me.

But, what does a failed engineering aspirant with no other option for the admission do, that too when he has already dropped an year? 

I had left that two room college in the middle of nowheres in Kolkata because those four months were enough to make me realize that I was in the wrong place. So now when a similar feeling was overtaking my thoughts, I was scared because I had failed myself once, and I didn't want to face a second time. But, there was nothing I could do. So, I thought lets give four months to this too. 

I still remember when I made that first shit of Anthropometrics how I had hated the very idea of using a drawing board and parallel bars and stuff. And adding to this, a subject made me re-consider if I was actually in architecture, because everybody around me thought I was in Fine Arts, thanks to those colors and brushes. 

Soon things changed and we had progressed from making humans in different postures to making spaces for those postures. India was developing, and so was my college; so, now we were designing toilets and kitchens. Not that it had helped me loving my course, but it was much better than making those weird looking Anthros. 

The first year was all messed up, but thanks to my little bit of social life, I was still alive and breathing. Towards the end of it, I had started liking the place for some unknown reason, unknown because I still hadn't developed a liking for the work we did, neither were there some people who could really make me like where I was. But, there was something that helped me stick to this place for this long that I have stayed.

Now, as I think of all that was going around me over these last three years, it's been an amazing time; seeing all the ups and downs, suspension, almost detained, year backs, back papers, and a lot more on the downside. And to count for the better times, all I have is the case studies, trips, night outs, and the few friends I have. But, as I approach the final end of this course, it worries me because all these years of hard work or no work has not really helped me 'feeling' like an architect. It's like I stand facing one of those moments where you sit and contemplate what you aimed for and what you achieved, but I am saved for one thing; I had no aims. I might consider myself better than many others who I study with and that I know I am, but competing against the already losers doesn't really count as a victory. 

So, even knowing that I am better than some, it doesn't stop this introspection. It's like am standing at the same place as I was when I had started this journey; knowing not where to go or where I wanted to go, undecided, confused over everything. I have almost cleared these years of architecture, but the question still remains 'Where do I go now?', because the only thing that scares me right now is the mere thought of knowing and realizing one day that I am a failure at being an architect, that too when I would've taken the long road that takes 5 years to reach the realization point, and thinking of all this when I am in the middle of it, with just 2 more years to end and am already done with the past 3, doesn't really make me feel good. 

I might even think 'Wish I had known earlier' but it won't help, because the fact remains  Nowhere I belong. 

Having the route map won't help if the destination is not known