It’s unusual, if not rare, for engineering students to be disappointed for not having exams. Any one of us would jump at the opportunity to give presentations instead of exams.
Yet, this time, we were.
2020: It was the one year, when all looked forward to give exams. We all were excited for the trips we had planned after the last exam. I doubt any cohort of students has cursed the year more than the Class of 2020. Irony ?
Not just the trips, the year took away our last chance to say goodbye to our friends, to our college. It took away our right to bid adieu to the life we had lived before in person. Sure, we had all of it online. But, none of us did.
When you are on the threshold of big changes in your life, I think it becomes absolutely essential, more than ever, to take out a few moments to say goodbye — to people, to the places, to experiences and to memories. We could not.
Even while writing this, I am conscious about the ‘privilege’ I have. Yes. I am not ungrateful. But, my privilege should not make me feel guilty about this.
About the changes. It gets messy if there is no proper endings.
I often go back down the memory lane — my phone has taken up the evil job of enchanting me to the old photos. It does so without any guilt. It is adds to the ‘stickiness’, apparently.
But for me, everything looks incomplete.
I want to go back to lanes in the college campus — with greens on either side. Thorns one side, flowers on the other. Yellow dried leaves, crunched as we walked on them. Not a symmetry of the feet, but a music nevertheless.
Squirrel running around, crossing the lane in seconds. Another one behind the first, trying to capture it. Or maybe they were just in a hurry.
Bird murmuring. Breaking the silence.
Some other people walking on the other side. The awkward moment when there is no eye contact but your eyes gradually fall on the person opposite to you. It is out of habit as you register in your mind who is walking opposite to you. They do the same. And it is not creepy. You just walk past them.
People talking as you enter the canteen area. Hurling abuses, breaking in fits of laughter, teasing each other, smiling at you when you pass along. Some lost in their own world, others trying to stay in the present one.
The hoard of people getting out of mess, the other one going inside. The class just got over.
As you walk back, bougainvilleas — red, white, pink — to greet you on the right. Monkeys staring at you on the left. The cat sleeping lazily at the end of the lane.
Door to the hostel: people planning to go out and coming back.
You wait outside the lift. You look around in all directions, and exchange the awkward glance with whoever else is waiting for the lift too.
The patient impatience with which you wait for people to get out of lift so that you can get in. Pressing 3 on the lift. The glance in the lift mirror. Just minutes of wait.
Taking the key out of your pocket as you get out of lift.
Opening the lock.
Shutting the door back.
Key, phone on your desk.
Opening your shoes at one corner.
Spreading the blanket.
Covering your face with it.
Shutting your eyes.
