If you have ever experienced the numbness of bottling up an overwhelming feeling, you will know what I am talking about. I knew it would hit me hard, and hence I got done with it as swiftly as I could. As I picked up my luggage and made my way from my room in Mukarji East to the small gate behind the Principal's house - a path that we would frequently use while going to grab a bit at the South Indian Cafe - the weight of the moment was overpowering me; but I promised myself not to look back, not to feel weak and never, perhaps, to say that I want to undo that moment.
We were one of the last to leave college that summer, and had said several goodbyes, and often shed a few tears. The moment of our own separation, hence, was pushed into the future. There was, thus, nobody to bid us a goodbye, except for the friendly college dogs. I was probably happier that ways; when I was leaving, the place felt dead, as if it had nothing to give to me. That sense of finality, of completing, was something that made the moment more tolerable.
Deepika Padukone says in Yeh Jawani Hai Deewani that memories are like a pack of sweets - when you open it, you can't have just one. That truly encapsulates the experience I had the previous night, while clearing my residence room. Gifts that had gathered dust in one corner of my room, objects that had a strong naphthalene stench from years of storage in the trunk and kind words that my friends had written for me - they all came back to hit me really strongly. I was moved enough to make one final dash, to go to South Delhi to meet a friend I had had a fallout with. It was the most impulsive decision of my life.
Next day, after watching a movie with my friends, I was all ready to leave. The packing had been done the last night, the clearances obtained and the memories neatly tucked in a cherished corner of my brain. I went to the room earlier occupied by my first year roommate, looked into the empty room and closed my eyes. The cycle of college - freshers coming in, graduates passing out - would go on even after we were gone. It was much like the cycle of birth and death, and that day I got a glimpse of how it would feel to die. It is in these moments of bereavement that one seeks solace, and like Kate Winslet said in Titanic, I promised to never let go - of my friends, these memories and learning.
Then, with the help of Gaurav, I picked up my luggage and went to the waiting taxi. I promised to never look back, never miss college. Because I knew that I had hidden the pain of separation somewhere, and if and when I'll open that part of my heart, there will be no end. I hold on to that moment of time very dearly. Someday in the distant future, in a tranquil moment with my friends (now all old men and women), I will open that capsule, and be overwhelmed. Till then, the show of my life must go on.
P.s. A lot of other things happened that day, of course. I've mentioned only the things I would like to remember when I read this post a decade down the line.
Deepika Padukone says in Yeh Jawani Hai Deewani that memories are like a pack of sweets - when you open it, you can't have just one. That truly encapsulates the experience I had the previous night, while clearing my residence room. Gifts that had gathered dust in one corner of my room, objects that had a strong naphthalene stench from years of storage in the trunk and kind words that my friends had written for me - they all came back to hit me really strongly. I was moved enough to make one final dash, to go to South Delhi to meet a friend I had had a fallout with. It was the most impulsive decision of my life.
Next day, after watching a movie with my friends, I was all ready to leave. The packing had been done the last night, the clearances obtained and the memories neatly tucked in a cherished corner of my brain. I went to the room earlier occupied by my first year roommate, looked into the empty room and closed my eyes. The cycle of college - freshers coming in, graduates passing out - would go on even after we were gone. It was much like the cycle of birth and death, and that day I got a glimpse of how it would feel to die. It is in these moments of bereavement that one seeks solace, and like Kate Winslet said in Titanic, I promised to never let go - of my friends, these memories and learning.
Then, with the help of Gaurav, I picked up my luggage and went to the waiting taxi. I promised to never look back, never miss college. Because I knew that I had hidden the pain of separation somewhere, and if and when I'll open that part of my heart, there will be no end. I hold on to that moment of time very dearly. Someday in the distant future, in a tranquil moment with my friends (now all old men and women), I will open that capsule, and be overwhelmed. Till then, the show of my life must go on.
P.s. A lot of other things happened that day, of course. I've mentioned only the things I would like to remember when I read this post a decade down the line.
