50 Harvard Essays

Essays are for reference only. Do NOT copy or imitate anything! 
Plagiarism is severely punished! 
The water that falls from my gleaming brass showerhead is no ordinary tap water. It 
is infused with a mysterious power able to activate my neurons. My English teachers 
would be amazed if they ever discovered how many of my compositions originated 
in the bathroom. I have rarely had a case of writer’s block that a long, hot shower 
couldn’t cure. This daily ritual is a chance for me to let my mind go free, to catch and 
reflect over any thoughts that drift through my head before they vanish like the 
ephemeral flashes of fireflies. I stand with my eyes closed, water running through 
my dripping hair, and try to derive the full meaning conveyed in chapter six of my 
favorite book, Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. I’ll be lathering shampoo 
into the mass of tangles that is my hair as I work on a synaesthesia for the next two 
lines of a poem, or the conditioner will be slowly soaking through when I experience 
an Archimedean high, as a hard-to-grasp physics concept presented earlier in the 
day suddenly reveals itself to me. Now if only they had let me take that AP Calculus 
test in the shower… 
The sparkles of falling water mesmerize me into reflection. Thoughts tumbling in 
somersaults soften into a dewy mellowness. Do these drops of water carry a seed of 
consciousness within them? As I watch the water winking with the reflected light of 
the bathroom, it appears to glow in the fulfillment of its karma. Then, for a split 
second, all thoughts cease to exist and time stands still in a moment of perfect 
silence and calm like the mirror surface of a placid lake. 
I know I have a tendency to deplete the house supply of hot water, much to the 
annoyance of the rest of my family. I know I should heed my mother’s continual 
warnings of the disastrous state of my skin after years of these long showers; as it 
is, I go through two bottles of lotion a month to cure my post-shower “prune” 
syndrome. But my shower is too important to me. It is a small pocket of time away 
form the frantic deadline and countless places to be and things to do. It is a chance 
to reflect, and enjoy—a bit of welcome friction to slow down a hectic day. The water 
flows into a swirling spiral down the drain beneath my feet. It cleanses not only my 
body, but my mind and soul, leaving the bare essence that is me. 
Analysis 
This essay illustrates how something as ordinary as a hot shower can be used 
auspiciously to reveal anything of the author’s choosing. Mahajan could have 
focused on the academic subjects or extracurriculars she mentions in her essay, 
such as physics or the Rape Crisis Team, but instead she chooses a daily ritual 
common to us all. Though everyone can relate to taking a shower, doubtless few 
shower in quite the same way Mahajan does or find it to be such an intellectually and 
emotionally stirring experience. The intimacy of the act sets an appropriate stage 
for her personal description of unraveling from life’s stresses by singing into a 
shampoo bottle microphone. 

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