Three times. Yes, it happened again for the third time. This was yet another instance of making me question both my competency and luck at once. But earlier, this didn’t seem like the previous two times at all. We had read a lot. We did so much International Law and Space Law that even the ‘authorities’ that NALSAR prides to have, must not have. (It’s not all that hard to surpass them, by the way). I’ve been spoiling my sleep with dotty dreams about Outer Space and Moon. And that’s because I was stuck with the same damn compromis for nine long months. It all started in September last year when I had planned of taking up Leiden Sarin. But then, the competition seemed so arduous that I shifted my priorities from Air law to Space law. Then came the Open Challenge, clearing which, I had assumed, would put us on a field that’s supposedly shared by all the well-prepared teams around the globe. I was wrong. It turned out that the OC was a mere trailer for all that there was to come. The scores in the OC made me curse all the over-estimation I had done. For once, it seemed like we had pushed ourselves too hard for what seemed like an easy victory. But again, this was just a trailer, no?
I’m too lazy to work, really. Unless there’s a deadline and someone with an axe is ready to hack me, I cannot get to work. And that someone was missing once the OC was done. The result being that we submitted the same memorials for the actual moot too, secretly hoping that we’ll make it through somehow. What were we to do anyway? The already hectic schedule, full of exams and projects, had little time to offer. Also, it could be easy to start something new rather than improving something that has already been done. It seemed all fine when ISRO decided to seed us in the national rounds, basing on the memorial scores. The feeling persisted when we defeated both our prelims opponents, one of whom had come to this moot for the second time after having lost in Semis in their first. Here is where the sky lost its colours and the stars started to fade. We were, in Quarters, put up against the top most seed and lost. A loss with no regrets, for they were much better than we could’ve been even if we had worked during the lazing time after the OC. Plagiarising from the excessively used moot word, however, the unlucky part was to see the teams we beat in the prelims breaking into Quarters and stepping into Semis. The team that beat us went ahead to win it all in what was very well deserved. But, couldn’t we have been assassinated a little later? In the Finals like the previous two teams from my college were? Or, at least, in Semis? Bleh!
I’m tired of mooting. Not because it’s no more interesting. It is. There is nothing better than standing there at the podium and answering every question with all the non-sense that you may not be able to pull out anywhere else. It gives out kicks and makes you feel good about yourself. A sense of achievement like you’ve slept naked on the hot Dosa stove and still managed to avoid heat. A feeling that you’ve taken your helmet off in the Outer Space, near Comet Donkelson, and still managed to stay intact. Okay. Not all that fancy. But, that was just to give an idea of the amount of bakchodi that’s involved in moots. Mooting’s good. And it will get better if the element of luck is not as magnified as it normally is. The same team which failed to clear the OC went ahead to win Vis the next year. That very team went ahead to face disappointment in the Jessup national rounds because of a certain technicality in fixing the match ups. Luck has always ruled the mooting arena. It was relieving when my Vice Chancellor told me, “It is fine. Even Tendulkar has had bad years. Doesn’t mean he’s a bad player!”
There are certain things you want to do in a Law School before it gets too late. I have no idea if people have such lists, but I certainly do. The first of them is ‘mooting’. Well, it was. I’ve given it three shots and not once did it end pleasant. In fact, this time we were planning to head to Tokyo, had we got it. And we didn’t. Well, we wouldn’t have been to Japan either ways considering that my co-speaker doesn’t seem to be getting his Passport anytime soon. So, it wasn’t heart-breaking when they informed us that we aren’t being invited. On the other hand, it made my mom very happy that I won’t be struck by an Earthquake and will live longer.
I can go on writing about this, only to butcher my frustration. But, I’ll end this here and make this the last paragraph. Passion and destiny are two different things. I’m still confused if it’s my competency or luck that’s needs to be blamed. But, as far as my passion is concerned, it seems to be far far away from the destiny. I tried meeting them both thrice and they’ve always repelled. So be it! As Calvin once said, “Life is like topography, Hobbes. There are summits of happiness and success, flat stretches of boring routine and valleys of frustration and failure.” Too bad that my valleys are simply too deep.