Good Riddance

How many times have you had to say goodbye to a person who you know you might not meet for a reasonably long period of time? Some people part on a good note, most vow to keep in touch but never do and there are some still, who wish with extreme earnest that they would never have the misfortune of having to converse with the person, who is leaving, ever again. Now, in most ordinary conditions, I am an extremely affable human being. Even at times of parting, when most people lose their composure, I generally manage with a stoic hug followed by a decent amount of exchange of genuine heart-felt love.

But of late, there has been a glaring exception to this happy rule. I am not speaking of a person, for none of God’s creations could have become so irritatingly impossible, but of one of man’s own experiments gone horribly wrong. This pathetic form of existence has ruined my happiness, devastated my ability to reason and often given me the feeling that my head is inside a toilet and somebody has just flushed. I am speaking of a subject called chemistry. I just appeared for my last paper on chemistry a few weeks ago. And I do not have the words to describe the relief I felt at that very moment.

I have nothing against the people who endeavoured to teach me this codswallop. I am a people person. I love people a lot, short people, tall people; cricketers, cheer-leaders; front benchers, back-benchers, I love them all. Indeed, most of my chemistry teachers have adored me. So, to assume that improper teaching methods are to blame for my lack of interest would be incorrect. I have never, in actuality, failed in chemistry, or even done horribly bad in it. I cannot get myself to pin-point the reason as to why I just could not get myself to like this subject for the last six years of life.

Some of you might not be students of the stream of Science. And there might be some who have already bidden adieu to this subject early in their academic careers. Some of the people, who belong to the second case of the afore-mentioned some, might have loved chemistry. I respect that. At the risk of being monotonous, I repeat that I love people. But I am certain most of you who have had the misfortune of attempting a chemistry paper will empathise with my poor self and feel the relief that I have well and truly felt. The grass is greener and without chemistry on the other side. And when I boarded the train that took me to this glorious side of life, I gave not so much as give a backward glance to the commiserating public behind and said secretly in my delighted mind, “Good Riddance!”