LETTING GO..

It has been a week of farewells, of not wanting to say so, but knowing I have to. Every action reminds me that this is possibly the last time. I once decided never to let my blog get even a wee bit personal, that it would always be about fun and frolic.. this is, in a way, a fond and slightly misty farewell to many..

Two years ago, I entered a place which I felt took me away from home. I sulked, I cried, and I accused it of taking Bombay away from me. I withdrew into my shell, till most people thought little of me or thought very little. And then I ran into those who made the succeeding two years some of the most precious amongst many...

I've often wondered over the past two weeks why I wasn't getting sentimental. Even when I looked at a time counter that said Zero Hour, I didn't feel any different. I knew I loved this place- the people, the times, every inch of the campus. I've had my favourite spots- the fun ones, the sentimental ones and those for introspection. I knew exactly what I'd miss about this place when I was done here, yet it didn't seem as if I'd never come back this time I left.

I didn't realise how I went from absolute good humour to feeling a stab in less than a minute. As I took out my camera to make sure I could remember each spot in my room, I realised how one brown carton made the entire scene look different. I kept snapping pictures till I even had one of the position in which I've kept my slippers on my mat for the past year. As I thought of pulling off my post-its, I knew that even if I kept them forever, they would never look right unless on that cupboard.

I wandered out to the familiar sight of the tree in the dim courtyard, and walked over crunchy grass to the subtle light of our favourite lamp post area. Looking over the mess lawns and back at all the memories, I knew I'd miss even the lone pigeon which sat on a bathroom window each night. As mosquitoes bit my foot, I felt I ought to move away, but I couldn't drag my eyes away from the vision that was such a regular sight. Even, if ever, with all the characters, the act wouldn't seem the same without the setting and the scene..

I've tried to commit each detail to memory, but I know images will blur as time goes by. There are those who I'll always keep in touch with, but there are those I shared a fleeting friendship with-- those that I may never even share stupid jokes with again, and I know I'll miss like crazy. I can't express myself in flowery language, I haven't managed it even in the Yearbook- and I've realised that two years' worth of memories are impossible to pen.

As I write this, it gets more difficult by the minute. I've never been great with goodbyes, I wish I didn't have to leave. What began as a fond farewell, shows me that I now grieve.

To those who I'll really miss- you know who you are.