A Place Called Nowhere

Have you ever heard of foetal position? Its lying on an uncomfortable bed, without any fans curled up and feeling really comfortable. Personally I thought that its just an excuse for sissies to go to sleep while gaining the observers sympathies. Ironically, for the past month and a half that's all I feel like doing.
I have always felt change is overrated and it has never been a reason to feel low or get anxious, but in the past few days my myth has been shattered. I am struggling hard with change and so far its been a loosing battle. 
Mumbai, the city of dream, the maximum city and so on, there have been innumerable number of things said about it but none of them include the words crappy or abominable. Sorry all you Mumbaikars I really don't see what the fuss is all about. Be it the wannabe London style rains or the horrendously long distances or the insanely big crowds everywhere. I despise it. I cant wait to complete my 2 years here and get out of this place. 
There are a few things I have always been sure of. Despite my shortcomings the one thing I have been adept at is fitting in and that's the one thing that Mumbai has taken away from me. Without it I feel almost like a newborn without the warmth of his mother. I can say with some authority that an MBA college is just a place crawling with phonies and charlatans. You do meet a few genuine people here but the odds are stacked against those few. In such an environment I don't really know how to behave.
Throughout my life I have never really had a problem of identifying myself to my peers and teachers but here I believe that 60% of my class doesn't know my name and almost 20% don't know that I am in their class. Add to that a bucket-load of  lessons which make absolutely no sense to me in the fray and you've a potpourri of brewing disaster. I have never really felt so out of place anywhere else. So it was during this time I had been looking forward to meeting my old college buddies, in hope of returning some of the normalcy to my life. But when the time eventually came for that fateful encounter, I realized that I didn't belong to their worlds too. Never before have I had the urge to bolt from a hangout of college friends.
Maybe it was the presence of a foreign entity (read shock) or may be it was the fact that the person they once knew so well did not exist anymore, but by the time I came back home I was feeling befuddled and disoriented.
I had heard about the quarter life crisis, now I am smack dab right in the middle of it and I have lost my identity. I really don't know who I am anymore. But this isn't the end of the road for me. Now I will have to rediscover myself. And I believe that I will come back stronger. I will not let this phase ruffle my equanimity. And that is all one could ask for.
 I may be hurt but I am not bleeding, I may be bruised but I am not kneeling. I may have lost the battle but the war still hangs in balance, I may not live but I'll die trying.