Prem Thakker

When I was little, I’d sometimes lay in bed, staring at the dark, looking at nothing but seeing everything, as I stumbled upon anxiety over anxiety.

A while ago, my friend Bassel told me that “small talk is an affront to our society.” We don’t really appreciate it often, but what we choose to say holds meaning. More specifically, we don’t appreciate the emotions behind why we express the things we do. Though the phrase “I hope you’re doing well,” is not necessarily characteristic of “small talk,” it still sometimes feels as empty as if it were.

“HOLD FAST TO THE SPIRIT OF YOUTH. LET YEARS TO COME DO WHAT THEY MAY.” The quote, embossed in gold above the John Jay lounge’s fireplace, seems to be etched just as deep within our minds.

I walk toward the Barnard gates among a crowd of people going between classes. It is a particularly nice afternoon; the sun peaks over Sulzberger Tower and hits the tops of Diana and NoCo, highlighting the series of contemporary buildings that contrast with the more traditional exteriors of Chandler and Havemeyer Halls. The Barnard lawn and its accompanying trees create a little garden in the foreground of these buildings. I walk down Broadway, and my eyes slowly rise up to see the calm, clear sky brightened by soft sunlight. In one of the busiest cities in the world, things feel calm.

I slouch over my computer in Avery Library, the light of a bright lamp shining on the lenses of my glasses and my keyboard. It is a few weeks before the holiday break and I am planning my finals schedule on a Notes document, figuring out how to best allocate my study hours. I type in my last final’s time slot: December 18, from 10:10 a.m. to 1 p.m., and then I pause. I hold my cheek against my left hand. I dribble my right fingers against the table.

Prem Thakker is a junior in Columbia College studying history, hailing from Grand Forks, North Dakota. If you would like to hang out, he’d love to take a walk in Morningside Park, share a meal at a dining hall, or toss a Frisbee with you. You can also find him on Twitter @prem_thakker. His column, Colon, Closed Parentheses, runs alternate Mondays.

I sat in the back of a car, watching bodegas and storefronts pass by through the window. I was coming back to campus, eager to see my friends after the holiday break. Yet, I couldn’t help thinking about what always seems to happen after returning: the rushed “How was your break?” question as we run around trying to see everyone, visit every waitlisted class, and apply to every new opportunity.