here is a lot to be said for blind positivity. On a good day, I’m a manifester, a big believer in my ability to speak things into existence. During my English A-Level, I had complete confidence that the crystals hidden in my bra would provide enough luck to snag me an A*. Today, I put great faith in words, relying on the same ‘I can do it’ that gets Olympic athletes across the finish line, to help me through difficult situations.
I’m now in my fourth year, and as such, must grapple with the reality of my Oxford days drawing to a close. Granted, this is something that every student must contend with, and I watched on as most of my friends bade a fond farewell to this city where our friendships began when they graduated last summer. Yet there is something about the fourth year that I’m certain makes the final year even more strange: a sense of something already lost, of living in a moment that has already passed.
Now, having exhausted myself with these relentless pursuits, the job has been passed on to a new bright-eyed Cupid, and in my retirement I’ve become fondly reflective, and decided to curate my insights into this list:
Many of us have heard the dreaded ‘So… any idea what you’re doing next?’. It makes me a little irate, anxious, and on the verge of a minor breakdown, as you can probably tell. Two years of my undergraduate degree have somehow disappeared with the blink of an eye – I am older but seem to be none the wiser.
I associate with soup, the fiery plains of eastern Rajasthan, the smokiness of coal roasted jeera in a Kadai pan, and the creators of a warm, comforting dish full of love, compassion, unity and humility.
Are we are giving daylight savings time just a little more hatred than it deserves? Sophie Price looks into the benefits of the time change for both early risers and night owls.
There’s something that makes the high table feel a bit off. Maybe it’s because the hierarchy of academia it represents hits a bit too close to home. A bit too close to the bitter sentiment in British society towards class domination.
Brunch is a particular love of mine. Between the poached eggs at Brasenose brunch, the coconut pancakes at The Handle Bar Cafe, and huevos rancheros at the Oxford Brunch Bar, there is no shortage of weekend brunch options in Oxford. The Breakfast Club could have been a perfect addition to this lovely list - alas, it did not make the cut.
All it takes is for me to catch a glimpse of a boy on a VOI and I’m out. It’s now possible to designate a character trait as a red flag and rule someone out completely. What happened to second chances?
It feels natural to carry sadness for moments missed, for the advice that might have been shared, and for the unique kind of love that could have shaped your life.
Describe yourself in 6 words or less. Find your passion. Find your purpose. Can your passion become your career? Can you monetise this? Can we monetise this? Can you make us money?
In many of these residents, I also saw glimpses of my Nan, realising she wasn’t alone in her inner conflicts between feeling cared for and feeling controlled.
Sitting next to Shamil, Kavi, and their loved ones made us feel part of the Dishoom family; sharing plates and insights on life over various cocktails made four hours fly by. From cocktails to curries, Dishoom's Permit Room exceeded all expectations.