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Prianka Misra


Oops, I skipped it again: disordered eating at Princeton

I have seen them throughout my college years. In fact, I have been one of them in the past. College roommates, friends, voices overheard in the dining hall: “This is my first meal today,” or “I forgot to eat.” My mother would ask, “How could you forget something that you have to do to survive?” But it’s more common than you’d think and less acknowledged than it should be.

The comfort of another country

“How was Africa?” many of my friends ask me.I usually chuckle, in a way that half hates and half loves this question.

Get angry

On my way back from former President Jimmy Carter’s lecture, I spotted an abnormally rotund crow perched on top of the University Chapel.

Different hues

I think if you ask anyone on campus if Princeton is diverse, you would hear a resounding “yes.” It’s not easy to overlook the multitude of student organizations we have here that embrace cultural affinities: the Chinese Students’ Association, South Asian Students’ Association, Black Student Union and the Taiwanese-American Students’ Association immediately come to mind.


A few weeks ago, amid a flurry of news reporters prowling our campus in a frenetic mission to share our story of meningitis with the world, I saw a tour crossing in front of Nassau Hall.

Pursuing our passions

As I write these articles, I often wonder if this is what I could do for a living. When I wrote for my high school newspaper, I did not muse with such audacity.

Keep calm, we don't conform

I am done with people calling me an investment banker. It is time for an intervention. Mitchell Hammer’s recent article, “Keep Calm and Conform On,” seems to have this label in mind for me and many of my peers at this University.

Skip the skimming

Every semester, as I browse Course Offerings, I go through a phase where all I do is wince. The large numbers stare back at me from the computer, menacing me.

Here's to coming home

I woke up to the wails of power tools. Some days, their agonizing, heart-rattling whirring would crescendo, as if the drills were threatening to burst through my wall, through my headboard, into my head.