I unlatched the door and walked into the room where memories
had been made for the past year and a half. D-57 has been home to me for all
the time that I have studied at XIMB. While most of my first year was spent
sprawled on the floor chatting with my best friend, my second year saw me take
ownership from Gani and become his neighbor down below. Pushing the flashback
aside, I unwrapped my freshly printed block t-shirt. The devil grinned back at
me and tempted me to think of all the mindless acts that I had been a part of.
This block had a legacy which every member of it unwittingly became a part of.
From having earned a name of the most notorious and laid back of blocks to one
which would never fail to surprise you, I would have to say that D-Block had given
me possibly more joy than any other fraternity I have been a part of. I won’t
dwell deeper into this, for the memories and legacies are too intricate and too
many.
I pull off my sweaty old tshirt and pull on the new one with
a tiny sense of pride and a larger sense of sadness. The inevitable departure
is lurking round the corner, but for now, there are better things to dwell on. I
push off the bed and closet my thoughts. I reach out for my companion of over a
year, strapping her onto my back and striding out of my den, armed for a new
venture of capturing events and framing them forever. My camera has possibly been the best gift one
could ever ask for. It has let me capture numerous moments which I would like
to look back on fondly in the future. Sure, the human mind is an intricate box
which stores all in it, but memories fade. Photographs don’t.
I run into a couple of friends sitting by the curb and
chatting and fire off a few clicks. The smiles on their faces shows that they
are grateful for the clicks. I make a mental note to send the snaps as soon as
possible. I pass the academic block as I turn towards the gate and without a
moments’ hesitation, the memories flood in. My first step into the college, my
reluctance to go down this rabbit hole, the all familiar Catholic institution
feeling, my sudden desire to achieve this goal, the pit in my stomach as I step
in for those dreaded interviews, the twisted questions, the convoluted answers,
the wait, the convert, the notice, the registration. Infosys was never in my
fate. Maybe it was fate or just sheer luck which dragged me back to my place of
birth. Maybe life wanted me to spend a couple more years before I stepped out
to challenge and face the world. Am I disappointed by the decision I took? No.
Who knows where life would have taken me had I skipped this opportunity. But I
sure as hell don’t regret being here.
What will I take away from here? Is it only a degree? A piece of paper changing my resume? Nay, I
think its far more than that. All those moments of laughter, of shared notes,
life stories, of guilt trips, midnight snacks, cravings and musings. Of crushes
and ambitions, of dreams and desires, of failures and near misses. I move on
with a ton of memories. Every nook and cranny holds memories associated with
some venture. I will remember all those meetings for presentations and business
ventures, of the first cement bag mixed to build our shop, of the first sale,
the first loss, the hurried note making, and the inevitable frustration of
examinations, the hangover of parties and the desperate need for chats.
I stride out to my regular tea shop, grab a cup of tea and
sit down. A small group of the current first years babble on about professors,
classes and the pressure getting to them. A small part of me wants to tell them
it gets worse before it gets better, before I realize that some things in life
are better appreciated if learnt without influences. I smile to myself and walk
over to exchange a few words with my friends before heading back in. Walking back
to my hostel, I notice a fellow member of my committee and start to reminisce
about the late night meetings, arguments, counter arguments, compromises and
hair splitting disagreements which bound us as we moved from shadow to core.
Time does fly by. It’s already time for us to pass the baton yet I feel I
haven’t done justice to all that I was bestowed with. Maybe I could have taught
people to debate better, learnt photography better, and done better work for
the myriad of other committees I worked with.
Life comes knocking but once. I just hope I did justice while answering
them. I hope I did right by everyone. I hope I did.
I realize that my days are numbered. I must say it’s scary.
I realize that I will finally be stepping into the world in a role that in all
probability I am not and might never be ready for. That a new level of
responsibility lies on me now and the onus of failure is larger than that of
success. I hope I see my friends again. I hope we meet in favorable times. I
hope they don’t change, and neither do I. But until then, let me make the most
of these stolen moments in the world that I inhabit. Where all that matters is
what I make of life and opportunities within these walls. And how it plays out
when I stand back and stare.
I realize that it’s time for the launch. The customary
signal of the looming send off. Maxinations. I raise my head to the clouds. I
whisper a silent prayer of thanks for it all. I shake my head at the
incredulousness of it all and walk back to dive one last time into the
whirlpool before it flings me out forever and leaves me as a mere onlooker. I
am happy.
