By Yash Desai
A Candle in the Wind
This was it. The day I was looking forward to my whole life. The most nerve-racking few minutes of my life. My stomach felt as if it had been turned inside out as a gargantuan pit ironically filled up most of those heart-wrenching moments. I munched my nails furiously hoping for some respite, some distraction, something to tear my attention away from that fateful screen. An agonizing discord full of superstitious thoughts, what Then's, and what ifs, and piercing notions played like a movie right in front of my eyes. My body felt like a strait jacket, trapped in my emotions. My eyes wandered uncontrollably as my focus tipped from the incessant chanting of my devout ever-religious mother to the unceremonious buzz I felt in my ears as the mosquitoes around me echoed my restless sentiment.
My sister knocked me out of this trance-like state as I snapped back into reality after a poignant speech about my college application. But I knew it was not ‘all right’ if I did not get in. I knew that ‘you did your best’ was not nearly enough to fill that pit. I knew that ‘you worked hard and that
is all that matters’ was just a lame excuse. It was just a mirage behind the cold hard truth of the desert. I knew that I needed that respite, that cooling fresh taste of water to my lips to fill that pit, that oasis. The next few minutes involved me maniacally pacing the room, waiting for that mail, that hope. However, among thousands of other eager applicants, that hope was a mere candle in the wind. These pensive thoughts overwhelmed me in a plethora of rabbit holes, none of which I was eager to fall through.
As my world fell apart and my hope began to abate, I rapped my knuckles against my desk to the beat of the timer which in a way would either prophetically announce my inevitable doom or would graciously and munificently deliver the greatest news of my life. The time ticked just under a minute now until the supposed arrival as I barbarically clambered onto my desk with bloodshot eyes, ravenously awaiting my finest meal after months of starvation. Fifty-seven, Fifty-six. This was surely the longest moment of my life as I got ready to go through a roller coaster of emotions. (This is undoubtedly how I managed to author a 600-word essay about two minutes). Being sleep-deprived, ready for a burst of eventful consequences, and being in the most dramatic
moments possible does not do well for the volatility of one’s emotions. I was touchy, moody, and distant, ready to snap at any possible remark. Thirty-seven, thirty-six. Time was ticking fast now. I did not just want this; I needed this and my life leading up to me flashed before my eyes. An emotional coma came over me as my long, ragged gasps for air became increasingly apparent. Twelve, eleven, ten. My heartbeat was now so loud that the events that played out were like a movie as my heartbeat was background music, creating more and more nerve wracking pressure.
Three, two, one.
The letter arrived. I closed my eyes, too nervous to open the e-mail. My sister was my supporting pillar in these moments, guiding my hand to the button. I opened it cautiously hoping for happiness but preparing for heartbreak. My Wi-Fi made things even more paralytic slowing down time. I rapidly read the first two lines and let out a high-pitched squeal. I had got in.
By Yash Desai
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