Goodbyes are all around…..finally those hard moments have come which I tried to push, but the time waits for none…people have started packing their bags, are making sure that not a trace is left…..but somewhere something is still missing, that they’ve forgotten…..a part of them is still here and it’ll remain here forever, like a ghost.
But I won’t miss MANIT, not a bit of it….all these four years are long enough…now one should move on. But may be everything won’t be normal soon….
Driving the bike at full throttle won’t be adventurous anywhere like what it used to be at mata mandir, new market and every inch of road of Bhopal……
Every morning when I would wake up, I would miss my small hostel room with stone hard bed and even the cushion of my bedroom won’t do….the delicious breakfast at home might not match the pathetic snacks at hostels for few days…..there won’t be any more classes to go to…..and if somehow I step into a place like that, and sit on the back-bench, giggles of ashish and ravish would echo in my ears and the voice of keshav saying “aaj dekh kya sahi lag rahi hai wo…”, would make turn n look for a glimpse of her....
Sitting on the PC would always make me sign in to gtalk and wait for a buzz to come from aditi with a smiley and a ‘hi’…..No more examinations will be conducted and if they would, I would always look at the person in front and somewhere my heart would ask “priya, 3rd ka 2nd part bata na”……no more eyes would look upon me asking objectives……
There won’t be rahul to whom I could ask weird questions about weird girls…..movies won’t be fun without watching them with Munna……no one would ever make any poems on me except Save……Nothing would sound more clear other than Illad’s pathetic hindi…..And I won’t be able to light a cigarette without Mradul saying TBM….
I wonder who will give me updates of college and the world without Jitu being there… certainly there won’t be a player like Shreyas at the pool tables anymore ….and a real friend like Apoorv who would read my eyes and lend a soothing hand on my shoulders…..and hell, I won’t get a buddy like Surya to take him with me wherever I want to, spill all the sentiments whenever I would be high, or just lay on his bed when I feel alone….
No more home-made stuff would be there to pounce upon, no more b’day contri parties, no more beautiful girls to go to college for, no more SMSs from a sweet junior, no more jolly Shubhi to talk to, endlessly, or fight with…No more PJs from Mr. Avi Maheshwari, no more whistlers like Jha and commentators like Devendraji…..studs like Ringo, and Waiky…..true leaders like Gireesh….
No more night outs, counter strike thrills, country side dhabas, matamandir tea stalls, prison break episodes, high volume rock band songs….and many crazier things.
............And, then, when I would look into the mirror, it would be hard to recognize this Naveen from what used to be something like ‘NJ/67’……and then I'll know I'm not missing MANIT, I'm missing my life.....
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
we part to meet again..
A new morning has begun…..i woke up earlier today, and after a long time, could hear the chirping of the birds. The wind was still cool and fresh and rushed into me. With its revival, the morning brings calmness, a new start, a new life….But then, the tranquility was within…..
Yesterday, we went to Hostel no. 2….from where our journey began and that seemed longer than four years then…..but it was not. Time went back, like a roller coaster of memories….four years passed like four beautiful moments….and then we stood there….our birth place, hostel no.2, room no.2116. The room, me, surya, tomar and all the indoris where the friendship was born and culminated and nourished by the togetherness, those naughty jokes, night outs, fragile sentiments, strong brotherhood, music, chattering, shouts, and some unsaid but heard sobs. Everything was as clear as the sky.
And we stood there, looking at each other, recognizing how we’d looked then, and what we’d become now…..changes brought by will or circumstances. But we were all the same; deep down inside we were again those vulnerable first year fresher. Or may be still we are, with a shield of four years to protect this innocence from the world and to tackle and accept newer challenges. Every one seemed on the verge to cry or at least to drop one tear from the eyes, the tear that could perhaps leave a trace of our existence on that place forever….but we didn’t. We waited for each other, gave strength to each other that we’ll still be together no matter what time or place. Or may be we felt short of tears, our eyes might have dried, or our smiles might have taken over. Nothing felt more valuable than those days, we could have paid any price to get them back, but we were all spent. Everything that starts has a relevant ending, I always thought. And indeed it is that everything ends in a similar fashion and in a similar time and may be at the similar place, in my experience.
Before few days, things were different and after few days, they may be a lot more different. Yesterday was a juncture, a turning point with the uncertainty of where the new road will lead, or whether the roads were different for each of us? That scared us most. Perhaps, we all stood at the common square for the last time, till where we’ve made our way together, hand in hand. Did we hold our hands for the last time and swiftly parted without a thought of it in our mind? I hope destiny proves me wrong again, at least this time, with its rule of
“We meet to part and part to meet again”
Yesterday, we went to Hostel no. 2….from where our journey began and that seemed longer than four years then…..but it was not. Time went back, like a roller coaster of memories….four years passed like four beautiful moments….and then we stood there….our birth place, hostel no.2, room no.2116. The room, me, surya, tomar and all the indoris where the friendship was born and culminated and nourished by the togetherness, those naughty jokes, night outs, fragile sentiments, strong brotherhood, music, chattering, shouts, and some unsaid but heard sobs. Everything was as clear as the sky.
And we stood there, looking at each other, recognizing how we’d looked then, and what we’d become now…..changes brought by will or circumstances. But we were all the same; deep down inside we were again those vulnerable first year fresher. Or may be still we are, with a shield of four years to protect this innocence from the world and to tackle and accept newer challenges. Every one seemed on the verge to cry or at least to drop one tear from the eyes, the tear that could perhaps leave a trace of our existence on that place forever….but we didn’t. We waited for each other, gave strength to each other that we’ll still be together no matter what time or place. Or may be we felt short of tears, our eyes might have dried, or our smiles might have taken over. Nothing felt more valuable than those days, we could have paid any price to get them back, but we were all spent. Everything that starts has a relevant ending, I always thought. And indeed it is that everything ends in a similar fashion and in a similar time and may be at the similar place, in my experience.
Before few days, things were different and after few days, they may be a lot more different. Yesterday was a juncture, a turning point with the uncertainty of where the new road will lead, or whether the roads were different for each of us? That scared us most. Perhaps, we all stood at the common square for the last time, till where we’ve made our way together, hand in hand. Did we hold our hands for the last time and swiftly parted without a thought of it in our mind? I hope destiny proves me wrong again, at least this time, with its rule of
“We meet to part and part to meet again”
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