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Great expectations?

If my mother found out I was writing this post right now, she’d lecture me for an hour about wasting my time, during which I would not be allowed to do anything except listen to her shamefaced, with a hanging head and after which I would be indignant, rebellious, annoyed, restless, frustrated and on the whole, completely miserable. (So much using my time wisely, mom!) Why, you ask?

Like I’ve been constantly reminding myself in my past few posts, I’m in my twelfth year of school, and I head to university after this. Aaand, my finals are less than a month away. The most important year of my life and it’s crunch time. So right now, me doing anything other than perusing these enormous books of information and solving papers is borderline blasphemous to the religion of the the Indian nerds.

My apologies, fellow Indians, but I feel like this prompt really spoke to me.

You see, when you’re in one of the most important years of your life, the year before you get in to uni, the year you’ve got to do your best-there’s no doubt about it that expectations are involved. What your parents expect of you, you from yourself, others from you and you from them-it’s utter madness.

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