An essay on Undergraduate life

Published under category: Sample Essays | 2014-10-12 01:02:40 UTC

Context: School and college life

The Magic Man: In my undergraduate days, money was hard to come by. Money meant everything in campus. For one to fair well among his friends, one had to possess something valuable. One summer, I worked for an engineering company that was building a power plant near the city. It was hard work, and one would spend many hours auditing daily wages for casual labor that the multinational depended on. By the end of summer, I had made so much money that I could not wait for the company to allow me to resume my studies. I had to wait for the company to find a replacement for me. When the company finally found a replacement, we were a week into the semester. I woke up early in the morning and prepared to leave on the day I was to go back to campus. I did not have much to carry. Being a member of a lower middle class family, I was not accustomed to buying things, or even carrying much money. I thought of my friends at the campus. This time, they had to respect me. I hoped to catch the attention of a classmate who had been ignoring me for a long time. Of course, she was the class beauty and she knew how to keep someone hoping while remaining elusive. She could not be so elusive this time. Money would work for me, I thought. I looked around my room, admiring the posters that covered much of the wall. They reflected the life that I adored during my early teenage years. Expensive cars and women celebrities in glossy pictures dominated the wall. When I shook my father’s hand, he still had a cigarette in his mouth. He was always smoking, and seemingly in deep thought. He also had a sense of caution that bordered paranoia. He did not forget to warn, “Hey son, I know you have some money somewhere. I know that you are carrying some good amount of it right now. You will get used to it soon, but it depends on what you do with your studies. Don’t forget you are in school, and the money will eventually get used up.” For all this time, his glazed eyes were set on me. They had a tinge of red due to irritation by tobacco smoke. With one foot on a stool and keys in his hand, he leaned on the table. It seemed he did not like the fact that I had some money. My circle of friends then was not the ideal one for a campus student. I hugged my mother and bid my father farewell, and then walked down the pavement. I could not ride on the family car on that day since it had broken down. I had to take a bus ride to the school boarding hall. The campus was in the middle of the town. At the gate, there was the usual activity that accompanied the end of holidays. People were peddling all sorts of things. New students could be seen shopping for stationery and enjoying the freedom that the campus life brought with it. Someone called out, “Hey....” I had just bumped into someone with my shoulder, but that was usual on that street since it was always crowded at the beginning of a semester. A tall young man, presumably of my age was looking at me smiling. He said, “How are you man? It has been a long time. I can see life has been treating you well. Your hands are full, but you don’t mind shaking my hand though.” I shook his hand and stared at him. I could not recognize him. At school, you met so many people that it would take some time for you to get familiar to some of them. He started with a disarming speech, “you don’t remember me? The new guy at school, high school. You were a friend remember? Do you remember john, the other new guy?” Of course, there were always new students in high school. The fact that I could not remember a high school friend was embarrassing me. I pretended to recall him. I waited for him to mention his name, but he just went on to sit on a bench by the sidewalk, and I followed suit. “What do you do these days? It has been a long time. You must have been through a lot.” I enquired, hoping to remember his name. I guessed that he must have been doing well since he wore some expensive clothes. He continued to say, “John and I are running a club. We are doing well and we have a lot of money. We have other young men joining in a few days. It would be nice if you came over to the club near the city cinema hall. It is not my club, but we are meeting there in the evening. Just a few hundred dollars and you are a member. You are interested?” I wanted to make some more money, so I accepted the invitation. He suddenly changed his mind and suggested, “We can go there right now, and you can see our club. I am sure you will be interested. Then you’ll come over in the evening.” I accepted the suggestion and said, “let’s go, but it will have to be quick. I have other business to attend to.” Just as we were about to start walking down the street, a truck driver who had been watching us beckoned me over. I excused myself and went right up to him. He then asked, “Who is that you are talking to? Do you know him?” I replied, “Just an old friend. What’s your problem?” Leaning on the crates in his white truck he said, “I was wondering whether or not you are aware that you are about to be kidnapped or conned. You have some money of course. He can smell that. He uses some kind of magic to smell out the money even when it is in the bank. He can smell your gullibility too. He also felt it when he shook your hand. He insists on shaking hands. That man works for an Indian gang, and has been doing this on this street for some time.” I realized that I had never known the young man or even met him. When I turned to look at him, he was gone. It dawned on me how far I had gone into a gangster’s trap without taking even the slightest caution. Whether the young man used magic or not, it was strange that he had managed to trick my campus brain into believing his story. To me that was the beginning of a life of caution whenever I met strangers. PLACE YOUR ORDER FOR AN ESSAY OF ANY TYPE HERE ORDER PLAGIARISM FREE PAPER