“To the graduating batch of 2021, Thank you. It’s been a pleasure teaching you all.”
Jitters run through my body as I realise my college experience has come to an end. In this moment, I look around to share this unfamiliar feeling with someone. I look around in the comfort of my home to find my dad going through his documents, my mom sipping her noon tea and my brother MIA like always.
In my mind, I calculate who amongst these two candidates is most likely to understand and do a ‘cry sesh’ with me for I can perfectly scene to scene imagine this moment in a parallel universe – me, with my girls, sitting in Room D-35 ready on the count of three to pour our hearts out. Two of them, I am sure, wouldn’t be able to hold till the count of three, and the third will eventually come around for a group hug and I, knowing my girls, will pause to hold the moment a second longer. The batch will be seen at the college backside theka late evening for the usual Old Monk or Tuborg, depending on the time of the year.
My dad interrupts my longing and asks whether or not I have finally registered myself with the income tax site and I hear my mom sing to the tune of Hemant Kumar. What a bummer, I think, and reject both of them as potential candidates. I crave for my girls.
From last March onwards, saying in our hearts that it would be a maximum three-month affair, and then we believed it would be six months. And now, I’ve completed my degree and aged a thousand years. It’s been more than a year since breakfast has been consistent, eight hours of sleep become a lived reality and little stepping stones to adulthood achieved – I think I am on my way of becoming the chef that I always wanted to be (it’s probably a phase) but in the very least, it’s a relief to know I can sustain myself for two weeks now to the earlier record of a day, can run 5 km (I am sure it’ll come handy one day) and work my way through testing times.
Also read: How COVID-19 Stole My Last Semester of College at JNU
But I still need to register myself with the income tax department. Other things that I have learnt is that cleaning can be therapeutic and never have truer words been spoken than health is wealth.
Haruki Murakami, in one of his short stories, writes about his twenties – so there I was, during the most vulnerable, most immature and yet most precious period of life, breathing in everything about this live-for-the-moment decade, high on the wildness of it all.
I underline these words and have what they call ‘FOMO’. The much-awaited never happening Goa discussions, everyone chipping in for a Wednesday one on one Dominos pizza, securing life par khel kar night out-pass for weekend getaways, sobering up for our dear warden, fall ins, girls dancing and tripping over Kabhhi Khushi Kabhi Gham and never (by the grace of god) missing out on the o-ho in ‘Jihne Mera Dil Luteya’, the 2 am aroma of Maggie lingering in the whole hostel and celebrating festivals and everyone’s little feat of achievements together. All of us with time learnt the ultimate patience to stay in a hostel; like the patience one needs to have with family. We all were stuck in the same boat – utterly lost but winging it like pros.
Our worst fear – a virtual farewell has become a reality, reigning over our ‘oh-I am-gonna-wear-this-sari‘ mood and over all our ‘dress up, dress up’ games. I am inches away from embracing my inner main-toh-bhag-rahi-hoon-Geet from Jab We Met.
It is tough to come to this realisation at home, far away from the setting that one has stayed in for almost half a decade. Half a decade we were to spend together, so much so that a year taken away seems like the unfairest thing. The sweet image of all of us – just some budding 18-year-old lawyers in awe, simply convinced we knew everything we had to know about ourselves and what we wanted from life. The funny thing is, five years down the line, I am sure none of us has ever been more lost than we are right now. But we are still in awe of what’s in stock for us.
I have packed my share of memories, they’re here to stay. To the graduating batch of 2021, it’s been a pleasure, nothing less.
Unnati Mehta is a friend of dogs who can usually found journaling through the day. She believes that there are always places to go and dogs to meet. You can find her on Instagram @unnssssss.
Featured image credit:Ibrahim Boran/Unsplash