Disclaimer: highly self indulgent and sentimental post follows. Read it if you have nothing else to do.
Today my course viva got over. My college and computer centre i-card was taken back and suddenly am no longer a student of this institute. It seems only yesterday that I walked into CS-A and sat with Nimmy and talked to Neha, Ela and Priti who sat before me. Wondered if Bipul shouldn’t have been spelled as Vipul. When Deepti and I walked to the bank together and missed our maths attendance.
I don’t know where the four years have disappeared. Throughout I maintained I couldn’t wait to get out of this claustrophobic narrow minded place. And yet today I feel my heart leaden. Today I remember and think of my first year. When I shifted to SM. Our midnight mad dancing and hopping on the floor. All the people who came and stayed with us for some time and left while the four of us remained put. The yellow curry and chappatis we put up with. The Punjabi and nepali ka khana about which we cribbed till the cows came home.
Uncle and aunty who were showered with pleasantest abuses when they handed us our rent and electricity bill.
My class whom I hated for the stories they made up about me. Now that I know that where am going is no better and that men will be boys always I don’t feel that bad. Maybe it was to prepare me for what would await me all my life.
I remember my first lunch with TKS and the knowledge that people don’t dance and sing in parks when they fall in love. Naahi raaton ki neend ya bhook pyaas udti hai. Appetite for food and sleep remain undiminished.
The exam prep leaves when Deepti and I would suddenly develop obsessive craziness for stupid computer games and then stand on our heads the day before the exam. Manu and her philosophy of life. Sunita’s tape recorder which served loyally till all of us got our PCs and her cassette collection which helped me realize Backstreet Boys weren’t the high point in English music.
Soon I wouldn’t get up to face an overflowing sink, wouldn’t need to abuse the ‘mota nepali’ because he dint give the breakfast, hide from Uncle because I hadn’t paid up the month’s electricity bill, wouldn’t have to get into my grey black uniform ever again and trudge to class and comment on boys who in turn would be commenting on us. Soon no more half biryanis from Nas hotel, no more ‘mere liye bhi lime bolna’.
Rheeja would stop walking into the room calling deef or divyu. The evening ka grand getting out for juice or samosa and budday cakes from Cocoa Tree is over.
Bina tere na ek pal ho
Na bin tere kabhi kal ho
Yeh dil ban jaye pather ka
Na isme koi hulchal ho
Ali khan is crooning into my ears. As the day I had waited for dawns closer I don’t want it to come. This time we would all go and not come back with our bags of mithai and ghar ka kahani.
Hated it while I stayed here and now hating that am leaving it. And yes the heart does exist in the chest cavity because that is where it’s hurting.