When I reflect on my life, it often feels like a movie, and I see myself as the main character, facing difficulties to achieve personal growth.

I have always taken pride in my journey on this planet. As I have grown older and gained more understanding, I have learned to embrace challenges and setbacks as important lessons that shape who I am. When I reflect on my life, it often feels like a movie, and I see myself as the main character, facing difficulties to achieve personal growth.

A few months ago, I made the big decision to leave home and move to the city to pursue my studies—a choice that, looking back, was definitely the right one. But as luck would have it, a single competitive exam drained all the energy out of me. I was never the most lively person, but the stress from that exam nearly extinguished the last bit of energy I had left, leaving me to struggle to find myself again. It was a tough time. I had once been a top student, admired by my peers, and an inspiration to many young women. However, when I left college, it felt like I had left that entire life behind. In the new city, I was just another person—no one knew or cared that I wrote beautiful poems or that my articles were regularly published in newspapers. My stories, my achievements, everything that once defined me, seemed unimportant in this new, indifferent place. I was just another face in the crowd, trying to survive and study.

After endless efforts and preparation, I was finally ready for that crucial exam, only for life to throw a curveball by moving the exam centre from Srinagar to Delhi. I am not known for bravery; in fact, I might be one of the most timid people you could meet. I had never travelled outside my hometown alone, never spent even two days away from my family, and now I was faced with the daunting task of travelling to another state, completely unfamiliar, with no contacts, to take an exam that would determine my future. To make matters worse, I couldn’t even afford the trip. Given my family’s financial situation, it seemed impossible, but by God’s grace and the kindness of some extraordinary people I have met, I somehow managed to get to Delhi—alone.

Luck, as it often does, decided to test me further. My very first flight was delayed, leaving me stranded at the airport for five or six long hours. When I finally arrived in Delhi, the heat was unbearable, unlike anything I had ever experienced. Fortunately, a few friends were there to help. One of them met me at the airport, and we navigated the metro together—it was my first time seeing and riding in one. At one point, I missed the train, and my friend got on without me. There I stood, alone on the platform at 10 pm, feeling once again like the heroine of a movie, facing yet another challenge.

After the exam, I returned to Kashmir, going back to my life but with uncertainty hanging over me—unsure of how I had performed, unsure of what I would do if I didn’t qualify. During the months of preparation, I had countless breakdowns, often crying like a child. After the exams, I went through several dry breakdowns—no tears, just deep anxiety. Each day, as results for different subjects were released, my heart raced. And then, one day, I opened my phone and saw my name on the list. The sheer joy I felt at that moment was unlike anything I had ever experienced before. I never knew that happiness could bring tears, but it did.

Then came the day to finally secure admission at Jamia Millia Islamia, and I had to return to Delhi once more. The admission process was fairly smooth, but the hostel process was a nightmare, taking five days and countless trips between the department and the hostel to get all the documents in order. There were moments when I seriously questioned my life choices, asking myself, “Is this the life you have been dreaming of?” But I had to keep reminding myself that I am the main character of my story, and this is part of the journey.

Technically, I came to Delhi just for admissions, thinking it would be done in a day. I brought only one pair of clothes, but the process took a week, and I found myself attending the university for days in the same outfit. What could I do? It was beyond my control. After a week, I was informed that classes would begin the following Monday. The joy of getting into Jamia was so overwhelming that I needed time to let it sink in, but the fast pace of events left me feeling out of sync. I returned home, said my goodbyes, packed my life into a single suitcase and headed back to Jamia.

But with the hostel still not allotted, I had to find a place to stay, which is still a struggle. I am currently living far from the university with a friend, enduring a daily commute until I get my hostel room. The first day of college only added to my challenges. It rained heavily, and I, having forgotten my umbrella at home, was drenched. Unable to find a cab, I had to endure a long metro ride where the air conditioning chilled me to the bone. By the time I reached the university, I was utterly exhausted, with no energy left to focus on my studies.

Through it all, I am doing my best to stay positive, constantly reminding myself that all this effort is for the sake of my dreams and the dreams others have for me. I remind myself that I have come too far to let anything—especially money—get in the way. Money is indeed a challenge; you need plenty of it to live comfortably, especially when you have to pay for everything. It’s not like home, where I could have five meals in five hours without a second thought. Here, if I don’t buy food, I don’t eat.

Yet, despite the daily struggles, every time I step onto the campus of Jamia, I feel a sense of calm wash over me. The hardships, the thorns on the path, all fade away. I forget the struggle and the bitterness and feel a deep peace knowing that I made it. I take a deep breath and take pride in the fact that I have earned this—every bit of it. And let me tell you, it feels like heaven. Life in the city is fast-paced; life in Delhi is like a marathon—if you don’t run fast enough, you’ll miss the train. Coming from a slow, laid-back background, I know how much effort it takes for me to simply move from one place to another. But here I am, running to catch the train. This is life—if it throws lemons at you, you have got to make lemonade, or in Delhi’s case, shikanji, which I tried recently and have grown quite fond of. It’s a refreshing remedy for the relentless heat.

The writer – a columnist and poet – is pursuing an MA in English at Jamia Millia Islamia, New Delhi

Shafiya Showkat