Tuesday, May 08, 2012

Dasvidaniya

Its been almost 4 years, since I took BITSAT.
At first, I wasn't sure I wanted to be a nomad in this desert.
But over the years that's exactly what became of me.

There were adversities everywhere.
The heat - the cold - the mosquitoes - the insects - the tests - the tuts - the food - the curricula.
Nothing was as I had known before. 

But life at BITS taught me how to survive.
23 evaluative components in 16 days. 5compres in 3 days. Almost 20 Irrelevant courses for 2 years. 4 major tests on the same day. 45 degrees in Summers. 0 degree in Winters. Added power cuts in the summers. Uneatable food in KG mess from Monday to Saturday. These are just some examples.
Those of us, who have already toiled during the CDCs will have many more to add. And still many more stories to come from the dopes, drunks, and skunks.

I guess all BITSians have experienced some subset or superset of these. Maybe, Some better than the others. 

I had opted for Computer Sciences.
Reason(s)? None that can be called worthwhile now.
Maybe it was the inexperience. I was naive. Didn't know much about any of the engineering disciplines. 
Or maybe it was the herd mentality. Got a good score? Do what people with high scores do.

But now, having been here for 4 years, I no longer think I am graduating with an Engineering Bachelors in Computer Science. For, I now believe, that I am a Bachelor of survival and a Master of adversities :D

But that face of adversity is just one side of the coin.
And I in particular believe  a coin has three of those sides: The head, the tail, and the side view of it. #EG.


The flipside was the good time I had throughout. 


Movie night-outs - LAN gaming - Redi discussions - Department work - getting involved with Nirman and CSA during first year - Poker games - Mafia sessions - DC randaapa - PS chutiyapa.
Sprayed amongst the waves of adversity, were the countless pearls of joy, fun and frolic.

There were the friends.
I made a lot of them. Some of them were good friends. Some of them were the not so good ones. And then there were the best friends.
Most had something to teach me in general. Many taught me lots of things about life. A few taught me things about myself.
Some of them helped me develop my passions. 
More importantly, they taught me how and what to question. about the world. about myself.
Most importantly, they taught me how to change myself. For the better. And be the better man, I always had the potential to be.

There were the hangouts.
Gen discussions on philosophy. on human limits. on existence. on god. on mythology. 
Gen timepass in SAC. Foodking, that is.
Pulling legs in the name of meetings.
Extended treat sessions at C'not.
Daaru party with friends.

There were the pranks.
Some small ones. Some big ones.
Of some I was made the victim. Of many else, I made others the victim.
And in the rest, there was team effort.

And most importantly, there were the moments.
Moments of laughter. Moments of joy. When everyone would laugh their ass off on the silliest of jokes. When a random girl passing by could change the entire thread of discussion.


I guess thats how life is. Like Krackjack. Sweet and Salty.


And today I experienced the third side of the coin. Finally. In all its grandeur and epic-ness. That's what motivated me to write this post. The psenti side.

I never knew I was this sentimental, this attached, before this day came.

"Yaar... Mujhe pata hai tu zarur royega.."

With these words, my dear friend departed. We hugged each other one more time. The last time, to be precise. And then, as he set in the rickshaw, we two got company. It was the tears - they finally decided to show themselves and well up my eyes. He had already spent two hours earlier in the same state. I was just catching up, it seemed.

The blow had been dealt.

I couldn't stop crying, once I reached my room. The realization had finally dawned. Its all over. That tomorrow, once I am done with my last compre, it will all be over.

You know its over, when a random sardar in ANC starts reminding you of a gaming friend. You know its over, when a group of juniors start reminding you of your own groups from past years. You know its over, when even before the final adios, every face you see starts reminding you of some one you knew. You know its over, when the nostalgia takes over even before the memories have set in.

And that is the tragedy of being grown up. We know we don't want it all to get over, and yet all we can do to stop it, to pause it, is to simply do nothing.

Like dead leaves, we bid adieu from the tree that held us together. Waiting for the wind to drift us apart.
They say, We part to meet gain. But do we?