- Published on
My Life between Lake Michigan and Kellogg School
- Authors
- Name
- Ajitesh Abhishek
- @ajiteshleo
It's windy today. It always is.
Piercing through the layers of clothing, these chilly winds affect me more. Perhaps, when you're a bit lost you feel it more. However, my cribbing aside, Evanston isn't a bad place. At least, you can't hate the super-energetic squirrels of Evanston forever busy digging holes or searching for nuts. Unlike Indian squirrels, they have a unique sense of assertiveness.
Often, the lush green nature of this place and an abundance of squirrels makes me wonder whether decades back this place was a big jungle. It's definitely easy to get lost here. Among the best and brightest in the world, it's easy to forget your dream and identity.
If you ever visit Evanston, you should visit Lakefront — one of the most serene places in the city. I oftentimes sit here in evening gazing at the long stretch of Lake Michigan running parallel to the shinning tall buildings of downtown Chicago. Time and again, what disturbs is the constant sound of waves colliding with the lakefront. I don't want to whine about it, but sometimes I can't even hear my thoughts in this noise. Then, once a while, almost suddenly, it's extremely quiet. In those soundless moments, all my unexpressed, unspoken thoughts are on the surface. Some failed aspirations. Some regrets. Some longings for faces I miss dearly.
With so many transitions in my life and a suppressed fear of losing who I am, I often relate to waves. Watching these waves travel from far off places just to lose their existence when they hit the shore makes me think about my life. I wonder whether I am too far from my shore. At times, I get worried that these winds might take me to places of no return. I wonder whether there exists an egoistical black hole in our journey that makes us forget where we come from.
Then again these jumping and bouncing squirrels don't let you think more. You can't help but notice their diligence in collecting and burying food. I wonder why are they constantly busy? What are they chasing? Perhaps, they fear winter is around the corner. I so want to tell them that it's either winter or a wait for winter. Our lives, however, can't be a prisoner of season. Only if I knew their language, I would have asked them to enjoy a bit.
It's definitely worth spending time in Evanson if not for Kellogg then just for these squirrels. Yesterday, I wanted to stay at the lake a little extra, but I had to rush back to finish some work. I was reluctantly walking back when a squirrel almost jumped past me.
At that moment, watching it racing towards my dorm, I felt a weird connection between squirrels and my life. Our winters might be different. Our journey not so much.