School days seem so far away. I remember a teary-eyed me, biting my nails and queuing up on the first day of kindergarten.

Fearful I was, then, of my impending future. Of the pressure of frightening educational goals like writing the alphabet in a straight line on those books that smelt so wonderful and fresh, and recognising numbers. Of what those big people would do to me if I stood out of line when they sang the National Anthem every morning.

I was also terribly worried about my mom. Should I mark her on her foot, in case some other similar-looking lady replaced her back home while I was away?

I remember I wasn't above putting black ants in my hair either, so that my mother would have some assured returns when she sanitised me with the buchee comb before letting me into the house after school.

Sigh! Life just isn't so simple anymore. At the not-so-young age of 25, I decided to go back to college for an MBA, which, in Marathi, can be expanded into 'Mi Bekar Ahe', or 'I am unemployed', what with the recession on and blaring. Hey, no offence here to all the MBAs, employed or unemployed, anywhere in the world, okay?

I wish I had taken the entrance exam sooner. The small doubt that perhaps I was lacking in the intelligence department coupled with the bigger doubt that the results would confirm that doubt had kept me away from it. But thanks to the support of great friends, and a solitary existence in my uncle's newly vacant flat, I managed to get through with a pretty decent grade.

Now six months into my part-time three-year classes, I know it is no cakewalk. And that is what you need to get used to the most.

WORKING -- yes, I do that too, besides managing a husband -- and studying is challenging, especially when 75 per cent attendance is mandatory.

Even if it wasn't, bunking is a luxury that an arts graduate cannot afford -- if s/he wants to pass, that is. With subjects like 'Operations Research', which leaves us all wondering if we are Martians and our dear professor is an earthling speaking a different language, you need a lot more than the 'I can do it!' attitude to avoid that thin red line on your report card. The engineers and the statistics graduates get it pretty quick. But the rest of us go 'Huh?'

There are some classes wherein the commerce graduates are kings, because debits, credits and suchlike come naturally to them. They slogged over those concepts for a good three-five years and so now they can afford to relax. But not for us artpeople!

No MBA is complete without tons of assignments. And so we get generous helpings of those too.

But it's fun making new friends, comparing your salaries, and giggling in class like the good old days. I do not feel all that ancient now, mind you, just a wee bit older.

Hanging around at the canteen, though, does not have the same appeal as before. For one, we do not have the time to ogle at good-looking teenagers. Two, even if we had, since most of us are married beings it wouldn't really be in good taste, would it?

IT was quite tough adjusting to my new job and its hectic work pace. I sell life insurance now, and to be successful in that you have to be a workaholic. So, juggling that and college, and an attention-seeking husband required quite a bit of effort.

Oops! Nearly forgot to mention the violation of the Sabbath. With classes on Sundays too, I have to learn about different metals and machines in production management while most people put up their feet and take it easy. As for Mass, well, I am a bad Christian now.

Now that I have reached the last but one paragraph, which I am writing in my second semester, I feel most of us have struck a happy balance between bunking classes, working 'smart', and a lot of belief in Lady Luck and good things to come -- like the end of each semester and the reassuring thought that this is a temporary phase and time will soon be at our disposal once we are done with college...

To all those who want to go back to college, I say go for it, whatever your age. It's a beautiful experience, soaking up new things. Like they say, when the going gets tough, the tough get going, and all that.

Now excuse me, I have got a lecture to attend.

Cleona Lira claims to have vanquished First Semester without too much trouble.

Illustration: Lynette Menezes

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