(no subject)
For some reason, as of late, my life in Manchester no longer really appeals to me. For starters, I was on limited funds (which were at the same time quite generous and I'm grateful to my parents for that...and God). I always had to keep worrying about how much I spent (even though I ended up spending a handsome amount on food and make up) but the nice thing is, I was able to bring back about £ with me. The MA put me through hell, especially the thesis and it didn't help that I had hardly a clear idea at the beginning and sometimes I feel that my advisor should've helped me a bit more to develop my argument when I started. I remember being so freaked out about double-triple checking my references to ensure I had cited everything properly and that was the thing I was most freaked out about. I hated not knowing enough literary theory to engage with in my 1st semester. I remember that I had to read books on Irish postcolonial theory during the winter break and understand it, all on my own...which wasn't an easy task. I still regret...I still feel that I should've put in more effort to do better in the MA...missed the merit for 3 points, basically, and our school wouldn't curve for everyone :(. And then, I don't miss some of the people I did classes with. Sure, I used to hang out with them but one thing that actually hurt me was, when I came back, they didn't answer my messages, even when I was asking them something important. Tbh, I think it's really rude not to get back to someone. You can say you're busy but hey, make time, especially when someone has an important question for you. And this proves that even graduate school cannot teach you good manners.
There are a lot of things, however, that my year in Manchester did teach me. I learnt how to take care of myself and deal with certain problems on my own. I learnt how to cook and take joy in it. I learnt how to use public transport (something I avoid in Bangladesh). Now that I think of it, there are some things I miss about Manchester. I miss the big, clean dorm kitchen. I miss the streets and the Spar beside my dorm. I miss having access to countless academic resources. I miss being able to just go and talk a walk every time my room felt stifling. I miss the high-speed internet. I miss the regular exercise I used to get. I miss the food. I miss the classes and the intellectual discussions, the environment of learning (though I've had to concede that I'm just not that smart).
I miss. And then I don't miss.
There are a lot of things, however, that my year in Manchester did teach me. I learnt how to take care of myself and deal with certain problems on my own. I learnt how to cook and take joy in it. I learnt how to use public transport (something I avoid in Bangladesh). Now that I think of it, there are some things I miss about Manchester. I miss the big, clean dorm kitchen. I miss the streets and the Spar beside my dorm. I miss having access to countless academic resources. I miss being able to just go and talk a walk every time my room felt stifling. I miss the high-speed internet. I miss the regular exercise I used to get. I miss the food. I miss the classes and the intellectual discussions, the environment of learning (though I've had to concede that I'm just not that smart).
I miss. And then I don't miss.