As a teenager, when I felt I knew pretty much everything there was to know in the world, I thought I had grown quite cynical and jaded with the world. I wrote poems about it, talked about it with friends over drinks and generally behaved in the most blasé fashion possible. I had, of course no idea what an education in cynicism and callousness the world had prepared for me! Now, ten years removed from college and five years since I left the hostel, I find myself realising what cynicism truly means. How it feels to look at everything with mistrust and to question each and every action. To doubt every person you come in contact with, even people I am here to cure and heal, what to talk about colleagues! I used to think that it was the vagaries of life that had made me sad and had smothered the happy soul inside me. now I realise that I am not so much sad as devoid of happiness. The unadulterated joys of youth I now experience through a thick sheen of tiredness and bitterness. I look further, I look deeper; not for the hidden comforts in tragedies, but for the phantoms of sorrow in pleasures. And find them I do, for I am a skilled searcher. I see a pristine pond in front of me and I muddy the waters, I see the rainbow in the sky and I put on my sunglasses, I see arms spread wide in welcome and dream up hidden daggers in the sleeves……