(Warning: Senti attack. Read at own risk. Not written too well for the aforementioned reason.)
So I had slept all evening, and was watching random episodes of Friends to while away time. I have, a lot of times, tried to write something here. Something, so that the blog doesn't go dormant. And I couldn't find anything.
And then in the middle of Ross and Chandler's futile attempts to quit the gym, Saniya pings me and reminds me that it was exact four years since she first landed at BITS. Which reminds me that 29th July 2010 would be exact four years from when I first began the BITSian journey (cliche, yes. But cliches are cliches for a reason. No, not playing the pronoun game here, JD/Bing/Pubby.)
Four awesome years. The good, the bad and the downright ugly (transition from BPGC to BPKKBGC being one.) In some regards we didn't change at all, and yet we changed so much. From 'writing lyk dis' to cringing every time someone else writes in the now incomprehensible 'kewl' version of English, from running around shouting on the roads in huge gangs in first semester to calling people three batches junior morons for doing the same, from Orkut to Facebook, from not knowing DC++ existed to being totally addicted to it, we've all transformed. And yet one feels like the time just flew by, and we're still where we were.
When 2006 batch joined, the hostel curfew was 11:00 PM. There was no football field, and Zephyr saw some of the fiercest fights in the campus. In our first few weeks, the A mess was better known as the 'boys mess'. Thinking about the thrill Sanskriti and I got in exploring random nooks and corners of the campus now brings a wave of nostalgia. Dandiya night was conducted in the now awesome badminton court complex(?), and the next day we lost three seniors.
Second year saw us making shiny stuff in MT1 chemistry labs, copying shamelessly when the instruments won't work in physics, and adding juice and detergent to the same concoction in biology to extract DNA. Second year was the Quark 2008 year. Still remember sitting outside on the last day as the Music night came to an end, wondering what I was going to do for the rest of the semester.
With third year came the responsibilities, whether it be the CDCs, or getting a fest up and running smoothly. The sucky grading system added to the woes. The farewell one whole (in some cases two) year(s) before we left the campus gave everyone something to obsess about. No one dressed up for the now once-in-a-blue-moon DJ nights anymore. And then came the second sem compres, which this time around not just meant the end of the semester, but also the end of time together on campus for the batch as a whole. Whether you switched your semester at the last moment, or you always knew you were going in first sem, it didn't make much of a difference. Cartons packed and couriered, hugs and promises exchanged. The end of the journey was now in sight.
PS2 was a different ballgame altogether. From wishing everyone you knew got PS at Bangalore, to cribbing about the work or lack thereof, to making elaborate plans to go to campus during Waves. To talking about how your strict PS instructor makes you call every morning at 9 30, to putting in night outs to finish reports and applications. To wishing to get back to campus and yet feel a little sad that your stay at Bangalore (or wherever your PS station was) coming to an end.
Last semester on the campus kind of serves as a rude shock. For you're happy that you're back, but it doesn't feel like the same place. You hardly know anyone, at times the only person you know at Monginis happens to be Uncle Sam. You feel like the campus has already forgotten you, and then soon enough you come to terms with it, and start finding new ways to kill the huge amount of free time that you have. Some actually do stuff on their 'to-do-before-college-ends' list, others don't. Single degree students get annoyed with their suddenly all too geeky dual degree friends and vice versa. First years look like a bunch of buffoons, doing the exact same things as one did three years back. Exams and project submissions start losing out to hanging out a little more at Nescafe. Bogmalo trips become a lot more frequent.
And then the time flies by and soon you're staring at the day you never thought would come. And then you take the final walk across the campus, sit outside till you can, take it all in for you know that you won't see the campus at 12 20 am again. Not the same way, at least.
And then you go back, and you finish off with packing. And you hope for a sense of closure.
And then you sit and wonder where the time went, two and a half months after you said your final goodbye to college.