Five years, it’s been five years since a curious, shy girl that was me entered the premises of this building for the first time. Everything was for a first time, each step an achievement.
The moments move past me in a blur, a rapid sequence of still shots, moments of, jumping into the train for the first time, running down the corridors, voicing those opinions, etching those first words, growing up within these walls, only to learn how to fly, how to rise beyond the limits and blossom in the blue sky.A period of time enmeshed with emotions and filled with events, from friendships to crushes, from authority to responsibility, from the unknown to the widely known, from J.C. to T.Y., a journey in which I have grown.
A quest for realization, a journey of knowledge, experiencing everything, the emotions, and the incidents and bearing the consequences. Amidst the events a desire to find yourself, to encapsulate that knowledge and to burst forth with passion. These very words that flow weren’t so smooth before. They were thoughts like the vapour now condensed onto the paper. Dew drops on the leaves, the first rays of the sun, the pink glow of the sunset, and the light of the dawn.
The time that is now a memory, the moments that have now passed, the jubilation that rises and along with it comes the pain of the separation. For those who don’t feel the pain, it’s just been a building, those who never gave anything to it, those who never learned, those who never felt, those who never rose, those who are moving like zombies, untouched and indifferent, nothing will ever matter to them, for nothing ever has.
The people who were involved in those clandestine plans, the sub-rose meetings and those hush-hush clans, for them it was the excitement, the thrill of thwarting the norms, the vanity of self where there was no self at all.
The intellectual, rather studious minds that grew, absorbing all that was around, using the resources they had, and achieving what they can.
These walls, those charts, the paints and that jari, the words, the layouts, the texture and the money, the thoughts, the voices, the struggles and the joy, few words to describe the society that was mine. The affirmation to that group, the journey of the truth, the realization of my abilities, and the fruit of my labour. Guided and co-coordinated with a dedication that matched mine, a mind that created what I visualized, the effect of seeing our output never fails to give us the joy, the also reminds us of the struggles we had, to fly. The committee that faithfully records a picturesque memory, the book that carries an imprint of those times, the book that we created to commemorate our souls.
The joyful revelry, the festive time, the chaotic confusion and the mayhem enfolds. Colours, people and charts all about, one asking you to perform, the others belong, choices and tension that spared no one, the run-u to the event, and in mid December we celebrate the “organized chaos” event!
An elite group rising within, emboldened by their sheer spirits, working within their constraints, yet always striving to win. The group of people where I belonged, where I learned and grew in thought, the odds were against us, but never did we fail to win. Organizing events, making presentations, having fun and loving life, are just some of the facets that I can attribute to us.
The colours of life, the experiences that make me, the thoughts that guide me, have brought me to this threshold where I will now go and face this world with everything that I behold. The journey of college life in Sydenham draws to a close, but the memories remain imprinted deep within my soul.
I conclude, with the couplets of “So Long Farewell”, Sound of Music (a classic beyond comparison!)
There's a sad sort of clanging from the clock in the hall
There's a sad sort of clanging from the clock in the hall
And the bells in the steeple too
And up in the nursery an absurd little birdIs popping out to say "cuckoo"Cuckoo, cuckoo
Regretfully they tell us Cuckoo, cuckoo
But firmly they compel us Cuckoo, cuckoo
To say goodbye . . . . . . to you
So long, farewell, auf Wiedersehen, good bye
Good bye…. Good bye….. Good bye……
That article was contributed by Ayesha Chauhan.
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