Everyone believes that the origin of the word 'impossible' stems from the completion of difficult tasks. However, I believe that no challenging task gives birth to impossibility; rather, it arises from adverse circumstances. This realization is born from my own life philosophy.
To attend the half-past nine class, I set out at dawn from thirty to thirty-five kilometers away. I must travel by bus, and to avoid the discomfort of standing during the hour-long morning commute, I leave half an hour earlier. As a result, I have to wake up every day at seven in the morning. For someone who cherishes sleep, waking up at seven and maintaining perfect attendance is undoubtedly a feat of impossibility.
Someone once said, "University life is akin to Shangri-La, a peaceful and trouble-free life of contentment." If I ever meet that person, I will surely show them a piece of my mind.
Through this experience, I have learned that true impossibility arises from adversity and the challenges we face. It is when life becomes difficult that we truly gain the ability to overcome our limitations.
After arriving at the university, I grabbed breakfast from the canteen and headed towards my class. It was Professor Ravi's class. If I didn't hurry, I'd be marked absent. Walking briskly, I peeked into the classroom and saw that he wasn't there yet. Phew! I sighed in relief. The room was fairly large, and it seemed about fifty students were already present. Outside the room, six or seven students were engaged in lively conversation. Some were playing Ludo; I could tell from the word "move" being tossed around. Others were taking notes or discussing their studies.
The murmur of their voices in the room resembled the static hum of an old radio. I entered the room and took a seat on the last bench of the second row. Just then, Professor Ravi walked in. Everyone stood up to greet him. The students who had been outside quickly filed in. With the attendance sheet in hand, he began our class.
He drew some English sentences and three-dimensional figures on the whiteboard. Then, reading aloud in a monotone and gesturing with his hands, he attempted to explain them to us. Professor Ravi's theoretical logic, with its monotonous delivery, was draining every bit of my mental energy. Each word he spoke felt like a lullaby. The stillness of the classroom might suggest to an outsider that everyone was intently listening, but that was far from the truth. The silence was deceptive. Some students gazed out of the window, others scrolled through Facebook on their phones, a few doodled absentmindedly, and some whispered their thoughts on scraps of paper. Only a handful of students at the front appeared to be paying close attention, answering his questions with eager precision.
I rested my head on the table, closing my eyes. Suddenly, I imagined myself working in a sweltering kitchen. Yes, it was a restaurant, and I was the chef. I was cooking something, but the dish was too salty. The restaurant owner scolded me and, as a punishment, turned off the kitchen's air conditioning. The heat was unbearable, and I woke up, sweating. The fan wasn't working. The power outage in this oppressive heat was suffocating. However, a sudden wave of relief washed over me when the next professor arrived and announced that all subsequent classes were canceled due to a faculty meeting. His words were music to my ears, and I calculated that I could watch five more episodes of my favorite show today than usual. I felt an urge to thank him. As he left the room, I followed him out.
At that moment, a scream pierced the air, followed by the sound of sobbing. A girl was crying.
In an instant, everyone's attention shifted to the girl. A crowd had gathered around her. My curiosity was piqued, like everyone else's, but I had no desire to unravel the mystery amid such a throng. The professor instructed everyone to return to their seats. Reluctantly, he approached the girl. "What happened? Why are you crying?"
The girl remained silent, but the girl sitting next to her spoke up, "Sir, her money was stolen from her bag."
"I brought the money to pay for my phone installment, but it's gone," the girl finally said through her sobs.
The professor fell silent, scanning the room thoughtfully before glancing at his wristwatch. It seemed he had a pressing engagement. "Oh no! Losing money at a time like this. I have an urgent meeting to attend," he said, looking at the girl's tear-streaked face. "Alright, where's your class representative?"
A girl in a brown outfit stood up. "Sir, I am."
She seemed slightly shorter than me, around five foot five or four, with fair skin and long, dark hair cascading over her waist, meticulously groomed. Her striking eyes reminded me of Yukino Yukinoshita from the anime Oregairu. If she wore Yukino's outfit, she might have looked just like her. However, the brown dress she wore suited her perfectly. The slender girl was the class representative. The professor walked over and picked up a file and a notebook from the front bench.
"And where is the male class representative?"
"Sir, Emon is sick today, so he didn't attend," she replied politely.
The professor paused to think, looking at the class representative. He seemed at a loss for a solution. Finally, he said, "Check around the class to see if you can find the money. This meeting is very important, so I'm entrusting this responsibility to you. Inform me if there are any issues."
The CR took charge as the professor left the room. I followed him toward the door, but the CR blocked my path. "No one is leaving until the money is found," she declared firmly. Realizing she was serious, I reluctantly returned to my seat.
The CR stepped onto the platform and announced, "Nila's money has been stolen. To find it, everyone will be checked. I trust everyone will cooperate."
What? Did she really say that? There were about fifty people here. If they checked each person, it would take at least two hours. Moreover, during those two hours, I would just be sitting here, wasting time. That's at least five episodes of my favorite show lost. No, I couldn't accept this. I raised my right hand and stood up. The CR looked at me. "Check me first. Once I'm cleared, I'm leaving."
"I'm sorry, but I can't make exceptions. It would cause chaos. Until I am done checking everyone, no one is allowed to leave."
Her reasoning made sense, so I sat down again, feeling dejected. I wasn't alone; many others were sitting in frustration. Conversations about the thief buzzed around the room, the situation striking everyone as unusual. It seemed absurd to think someone would steal from a classmate at our age. The CR approached Nila and asked her to explain the entire incident. Nila wiped her eyes with a tissue in her left hand.
"Yesterday, I bought a mobile phone from a senior in the Marketing Department. I paid part of the money yesterday and brought the rest to pay today. During the second period, I went to the washroom. Since the professor didn't show up, my friends and I played Ludo. When the professor announced that the class was canceled, I checked my bag and found the money missing. It's been stolen," she explained in a frail voice, barely audible.
"Did you check anywhere else? Maybe you put the money somewhere else," a boy shouted from the back, sounding annoyed. He seemed eager to leave the room.
"No. I don't keep my money anywhere else. I clearly remember placing it in my bag," Nila replied, turning to face him.
The girl looked as if she had lost her hard-earned money. I had no idea such behavior existed among our classmates. On the bright side, we didn't have a second-period class, but the entire class was now consumed with one question: who took the money? The situation was causing significant chaos. I doubted I would be able to leave for home anytime soon, nor did I believe that the CR would find the money. I decided to head home. As I approached the door again, the CR blocked my way. She seemed to have uncovered the mystery of the stolen money. "Where are you going?"
Her question was more accusatory than curious, reminiscent of a police interrogation. I felt like a suspect. "Home," I replied.
She crossed her arms, fully embodying Yukino Yukinoshita's aura, even in her suspicious manner. "Your urgency suggests you took the money. Just return it quietly."
"I spent the second period sleeping. Stealing the money is out of the question."
"Then sit back down."
Intimidated by her stern demeanor, I couldn't stick to my decision. Meanwhile, she began searching from the first bench on the south side. The first search took nearly five minutes. At this rate, it would take all day. My urgency to go home was paramount. I needed to uncover the mystery of Mei Misaki from "Another." Ignoring everything, I approached the CR, who was thoroughly inspecting a bag.
"If you want, I can help you, and I hope we can find the money in fifteen to twenty minutes," I suggested.
She paused her work and glanced at me. She probably thought I was joking, or perhaps she wondered why someone who rarely interacted with his classmates was offering to help. "Look, you're just disturbing me. I already have enough trouble checking everyone. If you want to help, sit quietly in your place. That would be a great help."
She resumed her work. The owner of the bag looked at me and said, "Hey, do you think you're James Bond or something? Finding the money in twenty minutes! This isn't a movie. It's real life. Go sit down."
His words dripped with sarcasm. He turned to another classmate, mocking my suggestion. I chose to ignore it, though I noticed the CR seemed slightly distracted. Perhaps she was reconsidering my offer. "I'm not joking. I genuinely want to help speed things up," I insisted.
She glanced at me again. From the back of the room, a boy shouted, "Why are you wasting our time? We all have places to be. This is such a hassle!"
I couldn't respond to everyone. The CR finally asked, "How exactly do you plan to find the money?" Her tone indicated she was willing to trust me.
"First, tell me who was outside during the previous class when the professor didn't show up."
The CR replied, "About ten to twelve students were outside. Why?"
The number was smaller than I expected. I glanced at Nila's row, observing everyone sitting there. The room was filled with murmurs about me, blaming me for wasting their time. Observing wouldn't help.
"I want to inquire a few things from some students. I'll stand outside the classroom, and you can send them to me one by one. Send Nila to me first. I need to gather some information from her," I told the CR.
She pondered for a moment before agreeing. "Alright. I'll stay with you and see how this goes." She then instructed a boy, "You've already been searched. Help by sending people out one at a time."
The boy agreed. The three of us stepped out of the room.