Damn you KK !!! Your post triggered this whole psenti-missing BITS thing in me again :)
It was 7 o clock. A crowded New Delhi railway station.The jostling crowd.First yearites waiting to go home.I was surrounded by people. I tried to look around,taking in as much of the scene as I possibly could.My mind was reeling with images - a 16 year old,reaching this very same station with parents, hauling luggages, and worrying about razais and heaters.A bubbly first year college girl,with a new found gang of people,axious to create an indentity,going home for my first oasis.A young,impressionable mind,which could not take in the sheer mind games and politics.A year later,a confused,cynical soul in the middle of a very painful emotional and mental metamorphosis.One more year down,a more focussed,mature person,who found her place under the sun.And, oh yes, the usual career related making jobs, and apping in the psenti sem , to complete it.Here,standing for the last time, I looked around , trying to commit as many faces and names I could to memory.
"Damn, this might be the last few days I will ever spend with a bunch of people I have come to call my family.Damn,why doesnt it pain? Shouldnt I be disconsolate now? " I ask myself,as I laugh at an inside joke my friend cracks,silently looking away knowing it will never be the same anymore.It doesnt hit me that tommorow,I wont wake up to orange juice and cheese sandwiches in sky. My lunches wouldnt be punctuated my the incessant cacophony at the Mal mess,my afternoons wouldnt be a Trisha or Kareena bashing session in the common room.Movies would not be some twenty of us huddling in a small room,drooling over a Fardeen's smile or silently crying seeing Maddy in "Anbe Shivam".My evenings will never be the same without gate-calls,my 11 will never be the same without the chowki shouting "Andar aao,time hogaya".My train journeys will never be the same,without nite out cards,lacchas,ragging and dumbcs.Nagpur will never be the same without some three of us juggling the money and thousand different icecreams for the entire bunch.Even those exams,wouldnt be the same as cramming up sitting in the back seat of an almost punctured cycle with a frantic wingie pedalling hard trying to get in time for the 8 o clock test.
Yes, it has been a whole year now.Is it the place? Is it the people? Is it both? What makes it so dear to so many?
Okay..Lest you think this blog is just about some recent passouts going through the passing out syndrome... We'd really like to get different viewpoints on this and many other topics,and what the whole BITSian experience meant for each of you.
It was 7 o clock. A crowded New Delhi railway station.The jostling crowd.First yearites waiting to go home.I was surrounded by people. I tried to look around,taking in as much of the scene as I possibly could.My mind was reeling with images - a 16 year old,reaching this very same station with parents, hauling luggages, and worrying about razais and heaters.A bubbly first year college girl,with a new found gang of people,axious to create an indentity,going home for my first oasis.A young,impressionable mind,which could not take in the sheer mind games and politics.A year later,a confused,cynical soul in the middle of a very painful emotional and mental metamorphosis.One more year down,a more focussed,mature person,who found her place under the sun.And, oh yes, the usual career related making jobs, and apping in the psenti sem , to complete it.Here,standing for the last time, I looked around , trying to commit as many faces and names I could to memory.
"Damn, this might be the last few days I will ever spend with a bunch of people I have come to call my family.Damn,why doesnt it pain? Shouldnt I be disconsolate now? " I ask myself,as I laugh at an inside joke my friend cracks,silently looking away knowing it will never be the same anymore.It doesnt hit me that tommorow,I wont wake up to orange juice and cheese sandwiches in sky. My lunches wouldnt be punctuated my the incessant cacophony at the Mal mess,my afternoons wouldnt be a Trisha or Kareena bashing session in the common room.Movies would not be some twenty of us huddling in a small room,drooling over a Fardeen's smile or silently crying seeing Maddy in "Anbe Shivam".My evenings will never be the same without gate-calls,my 11 will never be the same without the chowki shouting "Andar aao,time hogaya".My train journeys will never be the same,without nite out cards,lacchas,ragging and dumbcs.Nagpur will never be the same without some three of us juggling the money and thousand different icecreams for the entire bunch.Even those exams,wouldnt be the same as cramming up sitting in the back seat of an almost punctured cycle with a frantic wingie pedalling hard trying to get in time for the 8 o clock test.
Yes, it has been a whole year now.Is it the place? Is it the people? Is it both? What makes it so dear to so many?
Okay..Lest you think this blog is just about some recent passouts going through the passing out syndrome... We'd really like to get different viewpoints on this and many other topics,and what the whole BITSian experience meant for each of you.
posted by vivitsa at 1:49 AM
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