The Curious Case of Centennial Park

Imagine a beautiful weekend morning, you wake up early and decide to go to Centennial Park. Well, this is indeed a wild imagination. Why would you or anyone be interested in going to a park when you can go to the beach? But what if I told you that Centennial Park has many mysteries surrounding it? Sir Henry Parks would be delighted to see young explorers setting foot on the place he envisioned to be ‘People’s Park’ [7, p. 172]. Is the park all about walking or trees? Not really; it holds stories in multiple statues scattered around, as well as in the water bodies present throughout. If you're looking for a shortcut and are hesitant to explore the 220 hectares [2], you can test your knowledge with this quiz, and maybe be intrigued to verify all the answers yourself: https://youtube.com/shorts/H-CJIgteMiQ?si=l4f0ngDe7GZemaft

So, if you have got on your comfortable footwear and are ready for a hike, let's dive in to solve the case.

Map on the iZi Travel app [3]

Centennial Park is the largest park in southern Australia, spanning an area equivalent to 315 football fields. It was one of the first places for Sydney’s general public to come and connect with nature. You can have a 9.3 km run on the Strava App if you actually manage to cover all the paths in the park [2]. The Grand Drive in itself is a long loop of around 3.6 km, and the rest of the rails branch out from it [4]. All these inner trails will guide you to various sections of the park, unlocking beautiful ponds along the way.

The park features eleven interconnected ponds. All these ponds are fed by rainwater except the Lily Pond. A secret underground water reserve from Lachlan Swamp fills this beautiful pond. Lachlan Swamp is a remnant of a freshwater wetland in Sydney. It is 1.5 hectares long and is hidden in the Botany Sand Aquifer’s northern margin. Historically, this swamp became the reason the colonists didn’t die of thirst, as it was their second most used water supply between 1820 and 1852 [5].

 

Ash Paddock became a dumping ground for the Ash generated from the coal-fueled pumping station. This pumping station was responsible for supplying all the water in the 1800s [7, p. 22].

Lachlan Swamp [6]

 

Throughout the park, you are likely to notice many trees. Centennial Parklands have approximately 15,000 to 16,000 trees. They cover more than 230 species, including various figs, oaks, pines, and eucalyptus trees [9]. Moore Park has 4,000 trees, and Queens Park holds 490 trees [10].

Confused on why you see the Centennial Parklands sign even if you are not visiting the Centennial Park, that’s because the Moore Park and Queens Park also fall under the jurisdiction of Centennial Parklands [11].

 

Many Trails of the Park

All the park’s tracks were historically paths made by Aboriginal people. It was once a grazing land of the Gadigal people. Members of the first fleet, on arrival, walked down Oxford Street to observe approaching vessels. Frenchman’s Road became the colonists' route to bring things up to their base camp at Sydney Cove and La Perouse’s camp at Botany [2].  

However, both the camp settlers were excited to explore the upper northern reaches of Botany Basin, which later became Centennial Park. Governor Macquarie was the first person to set about defining the park’s boundary in 1811. Centennial Park was not a natural park; it was a carefully planned-out ‘natural’ space created by man. Thousands of unemployed men around Sydney were appointed to construct this park [12, p. 1-2].

The colonists realised that the park could be an integral part of a water reservoir. They began using the Lachlan swamp, and soon it was being exhausted.

Busby's Pond

That’s when John Busby was hired to construct an underground tunnel to transport water from Centennial Park Reserve to Hyde Park, thereby allocating resources efficiently. However, Busby was a lazy guy and earned the title of “Great Bore” for taking so much time to complete the task. The green bans in the 1970s were established to save parts of this Building from demolition [7, pp. 16-18]. 

 

There was even a plan to set up a cemetery at Moore Park in the 1840s. However, religious claims stated that the water here was contaminated, and hence it was rejected as a burial site [12, pp. 43-44]. Fortunately, otherwise our mystery story would have turned into a horror story with a cemetery involved.

 

Centennial Park was opened to the General Public in 1888. It was a tribute to the 100 years of the colony. Sir Henry Parks was the man with this vision of People’s Park. He wanted to make it a ‘lung place’, a site for inhaling clean air in the bustling city [7, p. 40].

 

The park has even become home to many sculptures over the course of its history. The statue of Sir Henry Parks was the last statue to be placed in 1897. By the 1920s, vandalism attacks on the statues began.  By 1974, all 31 statues had been destroyed. The restoration process of the statues began in 1988 [8].

Charles Dickens Statue

There is, however, an interesting case of a particular statue that has given rise to an entire drive named after it in the park, the Dickens Drive. It is named after the beloved children's author Charles Dickens. He made a curse before his death that no statue of him should ever be made to commemorate him. Centennial Park was lucky to secure one of the world’s only three Charles Dickens Statues. But the Dickens curse held firm, and the statue broke immediately upon installation. It was then stolen, but was finally restored in the late twentieth century at the head of Dickens Drive [3]. If you are lucky, the statue might still be there; otherwise, you'll have to look for it again.

In the early 1900s, the park was considered the haunt of the elite class, and people from the eastern suburbs were more frequently seen there. It had all the things rich people engaged in, such as golf and cricket. Fly casting contests also took place in the Park in the 1900s. An entire lake was named the Fly-Casting Lake after these lively contests [13].

Now, some of you may be a bit wary of all these ponds and lakes and thinking about the deadly mosquitoes. Surprisingly, the mosquito bite rates in the park are low. They are primarily active during dusk and dawn in the summer months. The park is very well maintained in terms of health standards and cleanliness levels [14].

The Park witnessed the effects of both World Wars. The First World War led to a decline in park maintenance. It lost its appeal and public attention during the tense times and fell into disarray. The Second World War converted the park into an Army base camp [2].

By the 1950s, people were back to protesting for the freedom of their park. A controversial matter arose in the 1960s that involved sports. Imagine a fight between the nerds and jocks at school. Well, the scenario was similar when sports enthusiasts started demanding more areas of the park for their activities. A Works Committee, formed in response to all that political pressure, decided to designate specific areas for sports [2].

However, matters really heated up when the Australian Olympic Committee came in 1974 to request a considerable piece of land to host the Olympics. However, this decision was later overturned following numerous protests. The 2000 Summer Olympics successfully hosted marathons and cycling races that were accepted by everyone in a peaceful manner [15].

The park is famous for its Sydney Cricket Ground, which opened in 1848, and the football stadium, which opened in 1988. These two sporting complexes attract several sports fans for various events. Maybe you have hopped onto the L2 Light Rail to see a match here yourself.

Sydney Cricket Ground [16]

Currently, you can find a variety of wonderful activities and opportunities on the park's website [17]. May it be the multiple playgrounds in the park where you can skate or hang out with your friends, or horse-riding lessons you may be interested in taking part in. Centennial Park is also home to a lot of birds and bats, and you can join the volunteering groups to gain some astonishing facts.

Scarily cute Flying Fox [18]

There is even a special challenge for boys. According to a bat specialist I met on one of the bat surveys here, men are often unable to bear the smell of bats. Are you brave enough to face some of the famous flying foxes of the park, or does their cuteness scare you? 

 

In 2023, the State government decided to reduce the park golf course from 18 holes to 9 holes. To make more free space for a growing population. The golfing advocacy group started a petition to save the golf course. This demonstrates that even now, Sir Henry Park's vision remains true. It is still very much a people’s park. A green space that everyone feels connected to and has a say in shaping and developing [19].

Over the years, research on the park has undergone significant evolution. Earlier secondary sources mainly focused on the park's history. Many of them provided detailed descriptions of the inauguration ceremony. The Federation Pavilion, built in 1901 [2], was used to inaugurate the Commonwealth of Australia. Then, later articles focused on the park's great waterways.

Federation Pavilion Inauguration [20]

I was sad to note that the flora and Fauna of the park have just been captured in plain annual NSW reports [10]. Also, there is less mention of the park’s statues and their unique stories. In fact, many park workers have reported forgetting the names of the statues over the years [8, p.136].

However, there is one person who might have covered many aspects of the park. Professor Paul Ashton might have just cracked the case of the Centennial Park's secrets by writing multiple blogs and even a book on the park [2, 7].

Recent research has focused on the carbon emissions project and other scientific initiatives that can contribute to the park's efforts. The Centennial Parklands website is a modern initiative to map all the activities taking place in the park. This is a great site to explore when planning a trip to the park. They currently have an excellent Labyrinth to explore on the first Sunday of each month [17].

The park is a popular destination for families to enjoy picnics and gatherings. Corporations organise marathons and social events for their employees here. Sporting clubs and groups are scattered around the perimeter of the park.

Recently, the park has become a bridge between different sectors of society. Its current redevelopment plan is taking suggestions from the public [21]. Like the Golfing group, you also had the chance to put your ideas into place until November 24, 2025. The redevelopment by 2026 will reflect the people’s ideas and aspirations.

The park has become a major recreational and fitness destination. Runners love to take laps around the grand drive. One of the recent park social events is the Moonlight Cinema, an incredible experience that allows you to watch movies in an open space under the stars. It features multiple cafes and picnic spots, making it the perfect destination for a family getaway over the weekend.

 

As you walk along the path, I want you to think of the Aboriginal community that paved the way when it was swampy land. Then, the necessity of the colonists to come together and clear out this space to create lakes that would collect rainwater. As the technology of borewell tunnels advanced, the reservoirs became a bigger project. This led to multiple paths growing around these lakes. Over the years, people have come together to plant a tree in memory of their loved ones. It evolved to be a park for everyone.

The old trees of the park, which stand tall even after all these years, are a testament to its enduring legacy, one that will continue to shape the future of Sydney by being an integral part of Sydney’s heart forever. I hope that you, too, go to find all this history in the park and see all these pictures in real life.

History is best learned out of the textbook after all. 

Reading the book in the Park

Bibliography

1.       Centennial Park & Moore Park Trust. 1998. Into the Twenty-First Century : Centennial Parklands : Plan of Management. Paddington, N.S.W: Centennial Park and Moore Park Trust, p. 10.

2.       Ashton, Paul. "Centennial Park." Dictionary of Sydney. Dictionary of Sydney Trust, 2008. https://dictionaryofsydney.org/entry/centennial_park.

3.       Centennial Park. “Centennial Park – History Walking Tour”. iZi TRAVEL app.

4.       Randwick City Council. “Centennial Park Ponds and Perimeter Loop.” Last modified June 2025. https://www.randwick.nsw.gov.au/about-us/news/news-items/2025/june/centennial-park-ponds-and-perimeter-loop.

5.       Hamilton, Rebecca, Josephine Gillespie, Dan Penny, Shane Ingrey, and Scott Mooney. “Re-imagining Sydney’s Freshwater Wetlands through Historical Ecology.” Landscape Research 49, no. 2 (2024): 268–286. https://doi.org/10.1080/01426397.2023.2271421. p. 268- 271.

6.       New South Wales Government. "Lachlan Swamp." https://www.nsw.gov.au/visiting-and-exploring-nsw/locations-and-attractions/lachlan-swamp.

7.     Ashton, Paul, Kate Blackmore, Armanda Scorrano, Rosalia Catalano, and Christine Shergold. 2013. Centennial Park : The ’people’s Park’ : A History. Ultimo, New South Wales: Halstead Press.

8.     Wilson, Edwin, and Sydney Royal Botanic Gardens. 1992. The Wishing Tree : A Guide to Memorial Trees, Statues, Fountains, Etc. in the Royal Botanic Gardens, Domain, and Centennial Park, Sydney. Kenthurst, N.S.W: Kangaroo Press in association with the Royal Botanic Gardens, Sydney pp. 135- 136.

9.       Centennial Parklands. “Pete’s Top 10 Tree Trail.” Last modified 2019. https://www.centennialparklands.com.au/stories/2019/pete-s-top-10-tree-trail.

10.   NSW Government, Centennial Park and Moore Park Trust, Annual Report 2021–22 (Sydney: Greater Sydney Parklands, 2022), p. 11

11.   Hoskins, Ian. “The Core of the City: Public Parks, Respectability and Civic Regulation in Sydney.” National Identities 5, no. 1 (2003): 7–24, p. 8

12.   Ross, John W. The History of Moore Park, Sydney. Surry Hills, Sydney, March 2018.

13.   Centennial Parklands. “Visit - Centennial Parklands - Origins of names.” https://www.centennialparklands.com.au/visit/history-and-heritage/origins-of-names

14.   Webb, C E, and R C Russell. “Mosquitoes of Centennial Park, Sydney.” General and Applied Entomology: The Journal of the Entomological Society of New South Wales 37 (2008): 31–33. https://search.informit.org/doi/10.3316/informit.235152227694215 pp. 15- 16.

15.   Sahni, Neera. “Sydney Olympics 2000 - Venues.” City of Parramatta, 2020. https://historyandheritage.cityofparramatta.nsw.gov.au/research-topics/events/sydney-olympics-2000-venues

16.   Sydney Cricket Ground. “Cricket Season: Private Suites.” https://www.sydneycricketground.com.au/sydney_cricket_ground_cricket_official_hospitality

17.   Centennial Parklands. “Official site of Centennial Parklands.” Accessed November 23, 2025. https://www.centennialparklands.com.au/

18.   Centennial Parklands. “Seven Things to Love about Flying Foxes.” Accessed November 23, 2025. https://www.centennialparklands.com.au/stories/2019/seven-things-to-love-about-flying-foxes

19.   Coverage from Sky News, via the The Australian: https://www.theaustralian.com.au/breaking-news/golf-collective-pitches-plan-to-transform-sydneys-moore-park-south/news-story/6eb76422bb4d54ab1f8c5495480a3dd0

20.   Dictionary of Sydney. “Inauguration of the Commonwealth celebrations Centennial Park 1901.” Accessed November 23, 2025. https://dictionaryofsydney.org/event/inauguration_of_the_commonwealth_celebrations_centennial_park_1901

21.   Centennial Parklands. “The future of Moore Park South - Centennial Parklands.” Accessed November 23, 2025. https://www.centennialparklands.com.au/mooreparksouth

The Top 10 Scariest Dinosaurs

I have been fascinated by wildlife ever since I was a little kid. Even the slimy, creepy creatures always had a special place in my heart. I loved watching all the documentaries, animated movies, and of course, anything related to Jurassic Park. Who doesn’t get fascinated by the giant lizards of the past? As a child, some dinosaurs genuinely terrified me. But as I grew older, I learned something shocking: the dinosaurs in college are far more terrifying than any Tyrannosaurus Rex could ever be. The stress, pressure, and emotional rollercoaster of student life create monsters that stomp around unchecked, roaring louder than anything from the Jurassic period.

So here it is: the list of the Top 10 Scariest Dinosaurs – College Edition, creatures we have all encountered at some point in our academic journey.

 

10.) Angertaur

Starting strong, we meet Angertaur: a fiery, wild creature with smoke blowing out of its nostrils and rage simmering just below the surface. After years of teenage tantrums, the 20s hit differently. Too old to blame it on hormones, too young to master meditation, and too stressed to stay calm. Angertaur is always waiting to break free.

Angertaur erupts in many forms: long, angry rants, emotional eating, crying into pillows, punching walls, or venting your problems to someone you trust. The creature feeds on frustration—deadlines piling up, group projects gone wrong, unfair grading, or simply the build-up of everything unsaid. Although releasing anger sometimes feels good, Angertaur often leaves behind exhaustion, guilt, and headaches strong enough to shake the ground.

 

9.) Envysaur

Right on Angertaur’s heels is Envysaur, small but dangerously sharp. It is not loud or physically intimidating, but it attacks silently, gripping your heart until it aches. Envy appears when someone posts a placement offer, cracks a competitive exam, earns a scholarship, or seems to have their life together while you are lost in chaos.

Everyone is struggling, and yet when someone else succeeds, a painful pang whispers:
Why them? Why not me?

Envysaur hides behind forced smiles and polite congratulations, but the eyes never lie, burning slightly with comparison and insecurity. It lures students into believing that their worth is measured against someone else’s timeline. What makes Envysaur especially terrifying is that it makes us forget our own strengths, convincing us that success is a competition rather than a journey.

 

8.) Doubtosaur

Envy’s cousin, Doubtosaur, is much bigger and heavier. He is a vegetarian. He doesn’t chew you apart, but his sheer weight crushes dreams and confidence. Doubting our potential is a daily routine in college. Whether it’s exam scores, placements, body image, relationships, creativity, or career choices, Doubtosaur sits on our chest whispering:

Am I even good enough? Was choosing this field a mistake? What if I never make it?

Self-doubt is like quicksand; the more you struggle, the deeper you sink. It ruins productivity, prevents us from giving our best, and traps us inside a cycle of negative thinking. Instead of learning from challenges, we freeze. Even worse, Doubtosaur convinces us that everyone else is more talented, confident, and booming, even when that isn’t true.

 

7.) Failosaur

The massive Failosaur often gives birth to Doubtosaur. Fear of failure is perhaps the deadliest enemy a college student faces. Failosaur stops us from applying for internships, taking risks, auditioning, leading events, or trying anything outside our comfort zone. It makes opportunities appear like traps and convinces us that attempting is dangerous.

Failosaur stands at the door of growth, roaring:

What if you fail? What if you embarrass yourself?

We forget the role of luck, timing, and resilience. We forget that failing once does not define us. Many students abandon incredible opportunities simply because they assume they will fail before even trying. The truth is, Failosaur can only be defeated by facing it, not running away.

 

6.) Examosaur

Failosaur introduces the most recognisable dinosaur of all: Examosaur. Towering, terrifying, and extremely powerful, it guards the gates to academic success. If college life were a video game, Examosaur would be the final boss at the end of every semester.

Sitting in the exam hall feels like being trapped inside a dinosaur’s jaws. Formulas disappearing, hands trembling, heart racing, panic rising like a tidal wave. Exams turn passion into pressure. Subjects that once fascinated us become painful burdens. Instead of learning, we cram. Instead of curiosity, we fear consequences. Examosaur eats away sleep, peace, and appetite and leaves behind anxiety so heavy that it rattles bones.

 

5.) Wamaptor

If you survive Examosaur, you still have to face the swift and ruthless Wamaptor: the creature responsible for GPA or CGPA drops. It is fast, cruel, and unforgiving. One bad exam can drag down an entire semester. Months of hard work feel wasted, replaced with a small number on a result sheet that suddenly defines your worth.

Wamaptor doesn’t care about growth, discipline, or knowledge. It only cares about numbers. It leaves students questioning whether anything they did was enough. Watching grades plummet is painful, primarily when parents and society treat marks as a reflection of one's identity. Wamaptor haunts transcripts like a permanent scar.

 

4.) Jobitaur

Naturally, Wamaptor leads us to Jobitaur, guardian of placements and the destroyer of peace. Standing tall on piles of money bags, Jobitaur looks intimidating with enormous claws representing competition, rejections, endless interviews, resumes, aptitude tests, and corporate expectations.

The pressure to secure a job, earn financially, and prove oneself to the world makes Jobitaur a nightmare. Every rejection feels like a bite, every failed interview like a tail whip. Students feel trapped, fighting for survival in a battlefield full of equally determined warriors. The fear of an uncertain future gnaws at the soul.

 

3.) Uglytaur

Wandering in the swamp of insecurity is Uglytaur, the dinosaur of self-image. It appears when clothes don’t fit the same anymore, when acne refuses to leave even in your twenties, and when comparing yourself to polished social media pictures becomes a habit. Uglytaur whispers that you’re not attractive, not worthy, not enough.

It convinces students that maybe everything bad happening in their life is because of their appearance. It drains confidence, making even stepping outside feel exhausting. Uglytaur feeds on insecurities until you begin to believe them.

 

2.) Lonosaur

Second on the list is Lonosaur, the monster of isolation. It divides and conquers. People might surround you and still feel painfully alone. Group dynamics shift, friendships fade, schedules don’t match, roommates grow distant, and suddenly you feel like you have no one who truly understands you.

Lonosaur attacks in silent nights, in empty cafeterias, in birthdays spent unnoticed. It whispers that nobody cares, that everyone else has someone, that you are forgotten. It feeds on separation, turning solitude into suffering.

 

1.) Stressosaur

And finally, the alpha predator: Stressosaur. Every other dinosaur eventually evolves into Stressosaur. Exams, career fears, relationships, deadlines, finances, family expectations, health issues, loss, and pressure to succeed can all become sources of stress if left unchecked. Stressosaur breathes anxiety, its footsteps shake mental peace, and its roar echoes through the mind day and night.

It consumes sleep, appetite, motivation, creativity, and joy. Stressosaur rules modern college ecosystems with terrifying dominance.

 

Now you might wonder? How does the movie end? How do I escape these dinosaurs? The truth is, these dinosaurs will always exist. College is a challenging jungle, and nobody gets through it without scars. But these creatures are not undefeatable. Every student carries hidden weapons, such as support, courage, hope, patience, resilience, friendship, and self-love.

The dinosaurs seem powerful because they live in silence and shadows. The moment we confront them, their size begins to shrink. College is not just about grades or jobs; it is about learning who we are, discovering our strengths, and evolving into better versions of ourselves. It's about trying out things, exploring the wild dinosaur world and seeing all the rainbows in this rainforest.

 

Scaling the Down Under

As I conquer another hill to reach the grocery store, I am forced to wonder, did I transfer to the Alps or the beach country of Australia? One month here, and let us say all my norms have been shed. Firstly, I totally misjudged the weather. It is not always humid and hot. It is totally bizarre. One moment you can be sweating under the hot glare of UV radiation, another moment you can be shivering under the icy winds. The speed of the wind is also phenomenal, and having a bad hair day is the norm here. I also found out the key to Aussie fitness: an active lifestyle. I will never get around the fact that everyone here is always running. Like, how can you run with so many bags? I barely manage to climb up the hill to my lectures. It is truly inspiring when even an older woman overtakes you. Guess some of their active vibes rubbed off. I tried to run on the weekends. It was a humbling experience to be out of breath in just 5 minutes. But it is a start. Give me a few more months, and I will be there.

I have even tried swimming in the ocean. It is now on my ‘Things I love’ list. Swimming in the ocean is like swimming in an infinity pool. It is the feeling of tinniness in just a vast cosmos. All the dark blue waves bobbing you up and down make you feel disconnected from all the worries waiting back on land. You feel like you can float away to new adventures. I have not yet discovered any sea creatures. But isn't it magical the amount of sea life just grazing around me, hidden under multiple layers? The ocean, too, has its level of swimming. If you want to get thrashed by waves, swim in the late afternoon when the sun is about to set. If you like a cold and peaceful plunge, mornings are a great time. At night, the ocean is supposedly warm, but I have yet to experience swimming under the stars. Maybe I will try it out soon.

That reminds me of the nightlife in Sydney. Unlike the other big cities, Sydney goes to bed at 5 pm. Life slows down in the evenings. It is more of a morning town than a night town. Even popular tourist places slow down by 11 pm at the latest. I find this nature of Sydney funny. As I had always imagined, it is a cool teenager town, but it is more of a mature adult town where people must get to work in the morning.

The surroundings here are peaceful, and the chirping of birds is a constant presence throughout the day. Looks like the wildlife still stays close to the city. Though sadly, no kangaroos roam around the city streets. I always imagined wild kangaroos hopping alongside me as I walked to uni. Wouldn’t that be adorable?

I have also fallen in love with walking. Yes, I did take the public transport, and it was very disciplined and punctual. Like you are always reaching everywhere on time. But walking helps me romanticise the city more. I can explore everything at my own pace. I get the chance to see the sky change colours as the sun sets. If I were an artist, I would have sat down on the pavement and painted all the vivid colours on my canvas. As a writer, I will describe the scene to you in a classical literary style.

As I walk back after a long day, I look up at the sky, which is putting on a full-scale show. Like a dance performance, the colours take place in formation, prancing around to blend into fairy-like scenes. A lavender glow pierces through the sky, standing out like a dance lead in all her glow. Her dress sways across the horizon as she veers across the sky. Overtaking the orange and pink hues. That lavender then starts to darken as the night rolls in. The next act is of the million stars. Each twinkling with laughter as they make all the constellations for people to gaze at.

These scenes force me to take out my phone and snap a picture, and then I contemplate my poor photography skills, which surely do no justice to these vivid scenes.

 

My best photography

Reflecting on how I am keeping my spirits high in the Down Under. It gets a bit overwhelming trying to manage myself miles away from home. Homesickness is not a constant factor, but it comes in bittersweet moments. A global citizen means you are foreign to a new place and no longer of the old place. I do have one reason to feel engrossed, rather than dejected. The reason for my continuous and full-on engagement: lovely chores.

If they are casting for the Hunger Games show, I volunteer as a tribute. I am literally surviving. In a way, I am thriving with all the hacks I have come up with.

I have the first task of groceries. My pro tip is to get all your groceries in one day; it is tiring running to the store every day. Then I get all my gym gains by carrying the bags back home. A good playlist helps me on the way back. I honestly recommend Taylor’s new album, The Life of a Showgirl, even though I am more of a girl at home, but sequins are forever, and everyone loves a dazzling moment.

Next chore is cooking and eating. For breakfast, I have become a typical American sitcom kid and have cereal; it is easy and wholesome. I add flavour to this meal by pairing it with the biscuits I brought from home. Either for lunch or Dinner, I have some takeout, or on most days, I grab ingredients. Then I get to invent. The microwave is my main companion in my inventions. Do you know that Maggie can be made in a microwave? I feel like a master chef who specialises in cooking without fire.

Cooking without fire special falafel roll

Next up is washing the tools I used for cooking. I find this easy; it is like you need to scrub, and you can keep dancing while doing so, which is therapeutic. Coming next are lovely laundry days. Oh, how I miss Mangla laundry and how they used to bleach away the colours from my clothes. Carrying a big bag down flights of stairs is not fun. I do not recommend throwing your bag down, because it can be hazardous to other residents.

Thankfully, no colour has been shed on my clothes yet, so it looks like I have found the correct settings for the machine. Next, I even vacuum my room. It is fun watching bits of dust being sucked in. Like the mesh windows, they can also be cleaned with a vacuum.

By the end of the day, I am tired, but as the time between my eyes grows heavy with sleep, thoughts of being on my own creep in. As I said, it is overwhelming. But then physical exhaustion takes over the sadness, and the next day I am all set for a new adventure.

I see many beautiful things daily, attend various events on campus, complete numerous assignments, interact with people, explore, and have fun. Being far from home does not seem daunting when you have so much to learn and explore.

I just learned that India and Australia were once part of Gondwana, which split into the world as we know it today. In a way, I just jumped onto another part of home.

Every day I learn something new about Down Under. Not just from my classes, but also from my experiences, which gives me a sense of joy. This feeling helps me overcome the times that become overwhelming. In the end, it is all about picking up your running shoes and chasing after your dreams, leaving your worries behind. As you flow with the wind, it shouts encouragement to you, giggling with you as you both race under a sky of brilliant shades at every moment of the day. 

Running in the Park

Solo Adventurer

                                                                 

Right from the time I was a little girl. I loved to explore. Shows like Diego and Dora were my favourites. I used to spread my toys on the bed and act like I was sailing on a ship to new adventures. My interest in exploration grew with every vacation my parents planned. Each summer break, I could visit new places, meet people, learn about their cultures, and discover excellent histories. It was a wholesome experience for me. When I got the opportunity to study abroad, I was entirely grateful and excited for this opportunity. My first week in Australia has been action-packed. A good thing because this kept homesickness at bay. My first day waking up in Australia was accompanied by body aches and a slight confusion from the jet lag. But I shrugged it off as I got ready to explore. I navigated to my campus using my ever-helpful Google Maps. My first task was getting my student ID made. I smiled at the camera like I was getting my first-ever Grammy. And honestly, the picture came out better than my earlier ones. Next, I navigated to set up my courses and other registration stuff. I clicked some cool campus pictures, shared updates with friends and family, and lived in my influencer era.

My 'awesome' photography

The next morning, my adventure took a sharp turn when I realised I was feeling hot. No, I did not gain my cool 20s era overnight; instead, I attained a high fever. On a positive side, I had no thermometer to declare how worse my condition was. I spent the day tossing and turning, feeling spent out. In times like these, I even realised that I had to hunt. I totally relate to the struggles of the early inhabitants of the Earth. Going out to hunt for food even when sick. The pain of getting out of your cosy bed to heat soup is horrible.

When I finally combated my fever, the next day brought heavy rains. The temperature dropped to super icy conditions. I was totally bummed out. I hoped to explore everything today, now that I was well. Instead, I just got to look around the underground parking lot to avoid the rain.

Eating plain old bread and jam the next morning, I decided things had to change. I packed my bags and trudged up the hill to my college. I wheezed up the incline somehow. Seeing even an elderly lady jog around me made me conclude how much of a weakling I really was. I made a promise to myself to be able to run this incline till next month. On campus, I scrounged the free stuff during the introductory week.

Uni from the bottom of the hill

After I was done exploring my campus. I got on the light rail to the Central Station. It reminded me a lot of King's Cross from Harry Potter. Ironically, my platform was visible to all muggles. I got on the metro to my uncle's and Aunt’s home. That night, eating home-cooked food, I felt another level of peace. In times like this, I realised that even the greatest explorers sometimes require homecoming to get better.

King's Cross

The next day, I went shopping with my aunt, getting tips on rationing and living. I could have stayed at their place for more time, but I knew like Pi Patel did on the floating Island. That safety is only granted for a set time. If I do not learn to manage myself, I will never feel ready to settle abroad. I need to know how to make my apartment more of a livable home. I came back and set up a permanent shelter.

My breakfast 

Even though I had a sore throat the next day, I reminded myself I had to survive. The amount of pep talk I give would guarantee me a spot at TEDx. I knew where I had to be today, like a moth finding a light source in the dark. I, too, gravitated to the one place I wanted to make closer to heart: The Library. I am ready for all the labels you throw at me because I do not care. Did I travel all the way to Australia to sit in the library? Yes, yes, I did. The smell of the books, the click of pens, and the typing sounds of the keyboard as multiple students huddled around to complete their assignments healed me more than any medicine ever could. After a two-hour therapy session in the library, my stomach returned me to a boring life. I went to try Gomez, the Mexican restaurant, and I found my favourite dish: The vegetarian Burrito (yes, I am a vegetarian, and yes, I will survive in Sydney). When I finished the entire burrito, I felt proud of myself. I thought I had lost my appetite, my urge to survive. But this just proved that the flame was burning as high as ever. Then I looked up some groceries and medicines, before going to the sports area.

On the way, I saw many school children dressed in fancy dresses. Maybe they were going to perform in a competition today. This made me realise how strange life is. These kids have been born and raised on this land. They probably know all about living here that I am still learning about. As an international student, I do feel bummed out at times. My accent seems funny when I talk to the cashier, and I often stay quiet and watch as I see people interact. But it is all part of being an explorer. We need to be aware of all the lands and learn to adapt. I cannot let my shyness end my adventures.

I felt hope as I walked back to my apartment with a glowing sunset at my back. It is okay. I am adjusting, and things will make sense soon. Now that my studies begin today, I am sure I will have much on my plate to help keep me engaged. I will have solo adventures, and each feat might not be so big, but that would be a massive leap for me. I will befriend all the animals here (and maybe the people, too). 

Meet Snowbell, my first cat pal here

I will learn about this land and try to not just survive but thrive. I will keep you all in the loop of my solo adventures, discovering new places, and finding myself, too. 

Freedom without Fight

As another year of Indian Independence commences, my patriotism reaches an all-time high, and the songs and movies fuel my spirit with pride for my motherland. I often wonder why I feel so touched by the freedom struggle. Is it the realisation that we gained freedom after countless fights? Would I still feel patriotic and proud if we gained freedom easily? What if we were always free without any fight?

Considering myself, I find that my freedom has always aligned with India’s. I never felt obliged to fight against specific rules imposed by my parents. I never felt the need to wage wars against a bit of curfew and go to bed on time. 

But recently, I started to find some uncanny restraints. A weird fear every time I step out of the house, the wild traffic and stares of people drilling holes at the back of my head. As I grew older, the news started to scare me, and my head began to cloud with insecurities. I no longer felt free to do certain things. Even though these are simple things, I feel scared to do them in my own country.

Then I got this opportunity to complete my B. Tech degree abroad. My heart beat with excitement at this prospect, but a tiny part of me was sad. Am I ditching my nation? Is my act against the sacrifice of many?

But I crave freedom, like each bird held in any cage. 

What do I expect my freedom to be like? Well, I would get up early and open the windows. Instead of being met with a cloud of smoke, the morning breeze would greet me. 

I then want to get ready for a morning jog. I never ran and was not an athlete in school, but chasing the wind and feeling my heart pump quickly and my legs cramping up feels fun. I never went on a run at home, never plucked up the courage. The pot-holed roads, gravel littered about, and stray animals walking around just demotivated me to stay home.

Then I would be back and get ready for the day. What to wear is always confusing, but worse is that people stating what you are wearing is wrong. It is every individual’s choice to feel comfortable in their skin. I want to be free and not feel insecure walking to my university. Feel secure enough to take public transport without having to worry about the person who might sit next to me. I want to be free to call for help instead of getting a late response from the law.

The courses taught there would align with the ones back home. After all, the sun rises in the east all over. However, there might be academic freedom and the chance to experiment and understand things practically, instead of just making a 'practical file'.

In the evenings, I might go swimming sometimes. It has been three months since I swam, even though I love swimming. Each day, I longed to swim, but the condition of the community pool held me back. I no longer wish to swim in the over-chlorinated water. The open pool is just an invitation to tadpoles, frogs, and water insects. I do not want to visit the horrible changing rooms, so I hold myself back.

On weekends, I can shop for groceries, explore landmarks, visit museums, stores, or the beach. I want to feel free to explore these places on my own instead of being bound by the judgmental looks of strangers.

I do not know when my sense of freedom evolved. Earlier, I was fine with just an independent India. But now I realise that being ruled by our government does not sign off on all fundamental freedoms. 

I want to be free, but I do not know who to fight against when electricity fails to reach me, even though I am paying. I do not know where I should fight to ask for better and safer roads. Who should I defeat to get cleaner air to breathe? Should I fight against my government? I can vote for another party, but which one stands true to its promises? 

And when the government finally passes a bill, the nation stands divided between. The roads are blocked as people sit down to dissent. We want the government to act, but are never happy with the decisions. This fight amongst ourselves is pointless, and it is harming our economy. We are descendants of freedom fighters who have not learnt that the battle was over 78 years ago. Now we need to tend to wounds instead of inflicting new ones.

Is it wrong of me to seek freedom? Freedom without fight is what I have ever wanted, and now I want to take this chance. Is my moving abroad to study an anti-patriotic act? Is it a cruel deceit on my part? I do not know. I love my nation. I tried to volunteer, planted trees, and promoted composting, but each fight felt futile. I want some little things that make me free, and if this opportunity allows me to gain independence, I will surely grab it.

I do not know how my life will be abroad. Who knows, the struggles are too complex, and the conditions are worse than at home, so I have decided to return. But if I feel free enough, I would start labelling myself as a Global Citizen. I loved my nation. But calling ourselves a developing nation since 1947 no longer seems like a flex. I know change is a slow brew, and it may take ages before our nation is free in the true sense. 

Until then, I sought my freedom without a fight. 

Jai Hind

Train Past Midnight

My eyes burned as I read through the endless formula list. Finals were less than a week away, and books were scattered around me. The librarian kept glaring. But I wouldn’t be nerdy Ned if I didn’t stay until the last second before closing. A week before exams meant midnight oil — and I was ready to burn it.

As the clock ticked on, I grew increasingly engrossed in the words etched by ink. My thoughts fixated on getting straight A’s again. When the librarian finally came to throw me out, I felt relieved. I still had to revise three chapters and tackle those extra questions, but there was time.

I stepped out, my mind still whirling with theories and concepts. Slipping on my headphones, I started a peaceful meditation playlist to drown out the overthinking as I hurried down the street.

The sky was dark and brooding, the midsummer humidity clinging to my skin. I looked up just as the first drops of rain hit my face. Lightning tore through the clouds, ironic against the serene music in my ears. The drizzle quickly turned into a downpour, and I picked up my pace. Falling sick now — during finals — would be catastrophic.

Rain fogged my glasses, and I glanced at my watch, muttering in annoyance. I had exactly two minutes to catch the last subway home.

I broke into a run toward the station. The black tunnel loomed ahead, its mouth wide open, howling in the torrential rain. My foot slipped on a rock as I thought I’d made it. My bag fell from my shoulder, splitting open. Books and notes were scattered across the wet pavement.

I scrambled to gather them under the glare of lightning that seemed to mock my misfortune. When I entered the station and swiped my card through the gate, I heard the hiss and rumble of departing wheels.

Too late.

Soaked and shivering, I stood at the empty platform, bag at my feet, headphones hanging limply around my neck. A dull ache throbbed in my forehead. I took off my glasses and cried — just for a minute. Exactly a minute. Then I wiped my face, sniffed away my self-pity, and decided to speak to the station master.

That’s when I felt a sudden cold draft sweep through the tunnel.

The hair on my neck stood up as a train pulled in.

I glanced around. The platform was deserted — typical for this late hour. The train map showed my stop. But I didn’t recognize this train.

It was off-schedule.

I had never gotten on this one. And I’m a neat freak — I like my routines. Even a slight deviation can throw me off. But tonight, I had no choice. This might be the last train.

Pushing aside my doubts, I stepped in.

The doors shut behind me with a whoosh. The coach was empty, silent. I sat in the middle, pulled my headphones back on, and resumed my playlist. The train began to move. I leaned my head against the cool glass, the ache in my skull pulsing with each beat.

Just as I was getting comfortable, the music began to glitch. The song broke into static. I groaned, opened my eyes, and jolted upright.

The once-empty coach was now full of passengers.

Right across from me, a potbellied man in office clothes smiled. Too wide. Too still.

I blinked. He was gone. Everyone was gone.

The coach was empty again.

My heart thundered. I pulled down my headphones. The silence was suffocating. I sat back down, trying to steady my breathing.

Maybe it's all in my head.

I am overexerting myself. Tomorrow, I’ll take it easy. Sleep in, maybe walk in the park. This isolation and stress are driving me insane.

I returned my head to the glass and slipped my headphones on again. I began counting the lights flashing in the tunnel outside to calm down.

The window began to fog from my breath. Odd. Fogged windows in midsummer?

I stared at the mist as a small handprint appeared on the glass.

A child’s.

I saw him in the window’s reflection — his teeth first, grinning. Then the static burst through my headphones again.

The boy’s face leered at me through the window.

Then, I saw him — the potbellied man — approaching from the other side.

I turned, heart pounding.

Nothing. Empty coach. No child. No man.

And my music was playing again.

No. No, this can’t be happening.

I ran to the emergency stop and hit the button. Nothing happened—no screeching brakes. No alarm. The train kept moving.

Cold sweat dripped down my temple. I felt eyes on me. Watching. Waiting.

They were behind me. I knew they were.

I bolted toward the next cabin. I just had to get away from them.

The door wouldn’t open.

I screamed and pounded my fists on the glass, sobbing. My eardrums rang from the static, and my head pounded in rhythm with my heartbeat.

The lights flickered.

The robotic voice echoed:

“Don’t lean against the doors. Remain seated while the train is moving.”

The same line, over and over.

My vision blurred. The ghostly passengers flickered with the lights — appearing, disappearing, reappearing.

I looked down.

There was my bag. Scattered open, like it was on the rainy street.

But the books weren’t wet.

The notes weren’t smudged.

Because I didn’t pick them up.
Because I didn’t fall outside in the rain.

I had slipped and cracked my head on the stone step.

I was lying at the base of the subway stairs — bleeding, broken. Staring at the yellow caution sign that mocked me: “Slippery Floor.”

I didn’t climb on a ghost train.

The ghost train came for me.

As it always comes for those whose next stop…
Is their last one.