Three years were supposed to be more than enough, weren’t they? So why have I never wished for time to stop more than I do now? Why does everything seem like yesterday when I’m starting to count my “lasts”, soaking it all in before my college experience is over; before it’s time to bid farewell to my home in a place that’s miles away from the place that seemed my world for the first eighteen years of my existence. After spending all that time in a strict convent, the prospect of moving to Miranda House was as enticing as it could get! Alas, it wasn’t any different for a conventee, except for the fact that there wasn’t a uniform, I could carry a phone and could leave as and when I wished!*chuckles*
But did it matter? No, it didn’t, it never could! Miranda is life, Miranda is home and this is a severe case of nostalgia gripping me at the oddest of hours and making conversations awkward. No boys still, who even cares anymore! This twenty-something human has finally realized that it’s the last time when the History Hons. lectures will begin on Day 1 itself and the grind will start again for the next few months. Does that mean I want this to end? Far from it.
Heartbeat quickening, lump in throat forming, desperately gasping for air – all the usual symptoms. Please, make the time stop. I don’t want to not get up early morning to attend the 8:30 sharp lecture, I want to have my regular breakfast of the Cheese Burger from PAM after deliberating about my preference for the day, then trying every thing there’s on the menu from cafeteria to Science block canteen (here, the special samosa chutney and the biryani) to the occasional chocolate truffle from Nescafe. I don’t want to give up on the comfort of dressing up like a homeless beggar and still not get judged or getting tanned in the front lawns on cold winter afternoons or the happiness of getting a picture clicked at every nook and corner of the college. Or spending entire days in the library before exams, couldn’t find a more beautiful ‘last resort’. How can I possibly forget the ‘n’ number of times the ever-smiling Nescafe staff put my phone on charge just because I am too lazy to go anywhere else! Lest I forget the late night cramming sessions before the dreaded exams! From all the society events, the WDC talks to the Leirang (read, the North-Eastern Fest), Tempest, the History Department heritage walks to all the MHSU and DUSU election period, aimlessly sitting in the mushroom huts witnessing how strangers from different parts of the country turned from friends to family and chilling with our ‘elite’ cat friends (Miranda, Fall, Wilson etc.), I cannot give up the title of being a Mirandian so soon! And it’s difficult to calculate the average speed in which the past three years fled, wishing I was good with maths so that I could actually figure it out! *drumroll*
“This is the end
Hold your breath and count to ten
Feel the earth move and then
Hear my heart burst again.”
Haha Adele seriously, this is how it feels! “How can this be, I’m still a child for goodness sake and I cannot adult!” The uneasiness develops in the pit of my stomach as the terrifying realization hits me, the identity card will be taken back in a matter of a few months and there’s a looming responsibility of becoming a qualified Miranda graduate who should know how to chart her path. She is as clueless as anyone could be! “It’s all going to change, isn’t it?”, the future-fearing Hermione (Harry Potter stairs, MH) in me asks. *cue existential crisis*
As cheesy as it may sound, I’ll relish it all. I was meant to be here and bidding farewell or not, Miranda House shall always remain my home. And I’ll do everything for the last time like it’s my first! Graduation is round the corner and before I take my graduation cap off to throw it up in the air with my fellow graduates and click the picture to be preserved till eternity, I’ll be tipping it to you, Miranda House! We ain’t ever saying goodbye!