The NED Files-II

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In the beginning though, I was completely and utterly miserable.

I don't remember exactly when the depression began to settle in, or much about the first few months I spent at NUST which is the university I joined before NED.

But I do remember how I felt when my closest friends began to leave Karachi, flying off to Canada, America, the UK, Malaysia, Dubai, one person at a time heading off to a life of adventure and excitement that new lands and foreign universities held out as a shiny promise.To me, their futures were crackling with colour and sparks, the glint of gold, wide blue skies and impossibly beautiful sunsets, and there were fireworks exploding above it all, spelling out SUCCESS and HAPPINESS in neon blue and baby pink lights, their faces lit up with the afterglow.

That's when the consequences of the choice I had made fully sunk in. Because I wasn't part of this exclusive group who had success woven in their fate before they'd even hit their 20s. No. I was left out of the festivities to burrow under my blankets in the dark, the door to my room firmly shut, listening to 21 Guns on repeat, thinking vicious, angry thoughts, thinking that neither of them deserved the fireworks as much as I did. Wasn't I the one who had scored a position in every exam season, who got straight As my entire school life? Didn't I already have a Canadian passport which exempted me from the requirements of a student visa, not to mention a scholarship at the University of Toronto waiting for me? Wasn't I the girl who wanted to do engineering and save the goddamn planet? And so on, and so forth.

You see, I was at that tender age where there was no line, no barrier in my mind between wanting something and having it. To me, the latter was only the inevitable consequence of the former. So the one thing I remember from that time is the darkness of my room, and the tears leaking into my ears. I didn't want to blame myself, so I chose to blame my parents instead. For caving into family pressure, for their transience in everything they decided or undecided, for not being strong enough to set me free goddammit.
I am ashamed to admit that I gave my parents hell the rest of that year.


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