LVII. BeingSilky: The Writer -

Four days ago a great thing happened to me.

I want to write. I want to edit. I want to research. I want to travel and experience. I want to interact with humans on every level. I want to see my name published.

I do not want to pursue medicine.

And I decided that I am not going to.



“I had a Xanga. It was a thriving enterprise that lasted from seventh grade to the beginning of tenth grade - a long life of 4 years. That was six years ago.

The Xanga had a strong life.

For one, it embraced the career choice (writing/journalism) that the entire universe had decided for me and that I had attempted to suppress.”


It is great to no longer suppress something that has inherently been the balancing factor my entire life.

When I was stressed, I wrote.

When I was procrastinating on homework growing up, I chose to do the “fun” work first: Writing that 15-page Collateral (term for research paper) at Townsend Harris H.S.

When I gained admittance into Townsend Harris H.S. I was skeptical at the irony of it all.

I was going to attend a century old high school, the building of which no one witnessed except for the accepted students and their guardians, that specialized in the humanities.

Courses in “Word Processing” and “Linguistics” were mandatory. Additionally, two years of study in your pick of ancient language, ancient Latin, Greek, or Hebrew, were also mandatory.

(Internally I was ecstatic but was still fascinated with the cult-like authority of physicians and the subject of medicine.)

I will never forget my first day at THHS. It was first band, (“band” is the term for “period” in THHS), and I was in NY Regents Math B.

The teacher announced that the first exam would be in two weeks and have about thirty problems and one extra question.

That one extra question was The “Writing Component” of the mathematics exam.

This was my humanities education and it was filled with many a two-page pop essays on literary analysis.

This became my way of life: Researching, reading, writing, and reporting.

Even my academic adviser at Penn took one look at my transcript, then looked up at me at me and told me to pursue a career in the humanities.

Everyone took notice except for me.

Four days ago a great thing happened to me.

I spoke with the dean of the school where I was going to pursue my post-baccalaureate studies, and then I walked to temple and contemplated and prayed.

I was confused at first. I felt odd. Then, I felt a sense of calm.

I felt like I was not resisting gravity for the first time.

I am no longer pre-med

I want to write and go to journalism school.

I came home and looked at the calendar my dad brought from Punjab.

Each page had a quotation from the Sikh scripture, gurbani.

As my present was changing and simultaneously, my future, I went to turn over the page of the calendar.

The quotation on the page read:

ਦੁਖੁ ਦਾਰੂ ਸੁਖੁ ਰੋਗੁ ਭਇਆ ਜਾ ਸੁਖੁ ਤਾਮਿ ਨ ਹੋਈ ॥

“Suffering acts as medicine when pleasure becomes disease.”

The diction is so fitting for this time in my life

A great thing is happening; And I am ready to make the most positive lasting mark on my life by changing my course of study.

Here’s to journalism school in the future -