Not until nearing an end, we marvel at the journey and it’s depth. The vestiges of the 4 years shall remain till the last breath. As a first year, even the littlest thought of the end to college life brings me cold shudders. Time is this stubborn duchess who listens to none but herself. But it is time that builds memories whose contours our mind would struggle to glimpse through the untainted lens of our soul, someday .
Among other things, when you enter college, the prime one that’s feeded to your mind is that your seniors are these strict people who are going to eat you up if you make the slightest attempt to screw up the dress code or interaction code or let’s just say ‘code of conduct’ .
The above sentence is a long one, in case you haven’t marked. The irony is, this lengthy fabric of nouns, verbs, pronouns or say, words, hardly hold the essence of how we perceive our seniors today.
Fourth years and first years share a quaint bonding that benefits from mutual respect but lacks time. First year joes spent a good chunk of time confusing themselves whether to greet their seniors with a Hello or not. In the other landscape , it was their last year, meaning less time at college. The few interactions we had were a bit formal ones where you were guided, more by customs of the college and senior-junior template than by intuition and heart. However, to put it in positive light, the lesson is, you learn discipline. Time went by, strengthening bonds, thanks to social media. Then, spring came. Perception heralded the onset of our rapport while xtasy took it a few notches further.
Today was amazing. Yes. It’s difficult to put it down in words. We didn’t do much. We sat in the SAC area and weaved a tune of togetherness, encompassing song, dance, words of humour. Food and ice creams were nice. They are, usually. But the SAC area fun reminds me of the quote, ” Best moments happen when they are unplanned. ” This holds true for me at least. I never thought of something, even close to this when I dragged my way out of the chemistry lab hoping to catch a sight of our 4th years. I hardly imagined they would sing along with us and guide dance steps.
As I write now, I know I am meandering, literally as well as metaphorically. But then, it had to be. There are so many things. I wonder how we would paint our fourth years in the larger canvas of life.