Weekly Column: Agony Aunt 2

Dear Agony Aunt,

It’s my first year in college and its very overwhelming. I’m not sure of most things—my identity, my coursework… I’m not even sure where exactly my classroom for FC— is. But I am sure of one thing: in the words of the great Dragon Warrior Po (from Kung Fu Panda), my archnemesis is… the stairs (*ominous music plays*). What do you do when the lift seems to be stopping on every floor but yours?

Sincerely,

A First–Year undertaking the process of disillusionment regarding campus life in general. 

Dear Pilgrim of the First – Year,

You are wrong. Look deep within…align your sense of balance. It is not the staircase that is your bitterest foe, but the elevator. The elevator is right there… waiting for you, in fact, when you want to catch the last few words with your best friend, but never in sight when you’re running late for the course that has an attendance requirement. The elevator exercises its very own sense of false justice, forcing you to land on the floor of that groupmate you lied to about being terribly sick. 

On the other hand, the emergency exit is always there for you—when you miss home so much that you need a hug and call your family, from the warmth of the stairs, or when you want to shut out the entire world—and gaze at the Sonipat Skies, or when you want to celebrate your assignment completion with a cup of hot chocolate in the cool night air, but in private. The stairs don’t lie to you—nor about the Rapunzel’s tower you live in, nor the weather outside, nor even about the limited glimpses of life that you observe of the people transitioning the staircase. 

Take the staircase—it gets you down much easier than the lift; it gives you a successful mental transition from your room to the university campus; it gives you the greatest opportunity of stomping out your anger like a Rhino stomping out forest fires; it gives you a fake sense of achievement early in the day that you channelize into your work; if not anything else, it helps you complete your number of steps and cardio, and that my friend, is vital for a Kung Fu Warrior— I mean a student at Ashoka University. 

Best Regards,

Master Shifu

Lavanya Goswami

Dear Agony Aunt, 

I wait till 02.00 am, eyelids drooping, unfinished readings piled on my desk and stumble to the fourth floor of RH4. I hear the low rumble of the washing machine, and my heart sinks. It’s occupied; the blinking timer says 35 minutes left. Fighting the urge to throw someone’s underwear out on the floor, I make my way first to the seventh floor and then the tenth. No luck. I try again the next day and the cycle repeats. It has been a week and I’ve run out of clean underwear and patience. How do I find an empty washing machine? Does it even exist? 

Sincerely, 

An incredibly frustrated UG25

Dear frustrated UG25, 

Hello! As an RH4 resident, you have RH2 to look forward to next year. The only two washing machines in the building are located on the ground floor, perpetually full, with a waiting line of bags. I usually take a good book with me and make myself comfortable while keeping an eye on the previous timer. If you’re an early bird, you could make yourself a cup of coffee and shoot your shot at 05.00 am, getting a head-start on that midterm due in three days while you wait. If you’re desperate enough, just take matters into your own hands in the washroom whenever you’re in the shower, that should take care of things for a while. I wish you all the best in all future laundry related endeavours! 

In solidarity, 

A resigned UG24

By Geetanjali Roy

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