A Trip Down Memory Lane

It seemed only days ago that I was entering the gated archway of my college with trepidation. The very structure of the building with years and years of history reverberating in its walls was intimidating if not downright scary. I still remember the first day in this college with a crystal clear clarity. Finding our way to the correct classrooms itself was a feat. I remember a group of us trying to figure out Lecture Room 206 (which actually turned out to be 20G but the print made it look like 206) and everyone being baffled as they’d never heard of such a classroom. I still remember how miserable the first half of the day was because of the company and how someone (who is now a good friend) I met later in the day seemed to me like a god-sent angel. She struck up conversation with me as we were waiting in queue to get into the class. I guess that’s how the journey started. all it took was her ‘hi’. I promptly went and sat with her, glad to ditch the previous company I had. Since then it’s been one crazy whirlpool of ups and downs.

Having some resemblance to Hogwarts, our college had it’s fair share of secret classrooms and secret niches and secret trap doors. That one whiff of adventure was all I needed. My friend and I were determined to find out all these secret places. This determination started 5 years back in the first year of junior college and lasted all the way till the last year of college. From finding deserted corridors behind the chapel to LR 29 (the location of which not many people know) to the locked third floor to passages off the zoology lab and to climbing into small connecting pathways (which are locked from the other end) through windows and to finding dead pigeons in there, we’ve pretty much covered it all.

We also had our fair share of crushes in college. whether it be you running all over college to glimpse said crush or pretending to talk on a shadowy stairway with someone so you could keep your eye on him, to following the guy in college who’d wear the best cologne ever, to blushing when your favourite, young male professor spoke to you outside class. Between my friends and I, there was always some or the other cute guy to keep our spirits up, even with the serious lack of guys the humanities stream in college had. These are probably some of my favourite memories of college. Not only is it the memory that I won’t ever forget but it’s the feelings and the swooning they still evoke in me that cannot be forgotten even if I tried.

No college experience would have been complete without the college fest though. From the FYJC when I came as an audience to watch Malhar, that was the one and only year I got to watch Illuminati (the UV light dance) from the best seats, up in the gallery in our hall. The entire event was breathtakingly stunning to the two years which followed where I was part of the work force to my last Malhar where I was part of the organizing team. There are too many memories to pen them all down but the best thing that Malhar gave me was the people I met through the fest. I feel lucky to have been able to meet these people, some of them extremely dear to me.

Most of my last year in college was more or less a big ball of blur. As the level of difficulty of the classes increased tenfold, assignments and exams every week, and those bloody hateful journals, if someone were to ask me to close my eyes and recollect my last  year the first thing that comes to my mind is a copy of the cover page of our pretty much weekly assignments. Having Psychology as a major, we were a small class of 24, and more or less our entire life (in and outside college) revolved within the four walls of our lab. But then the memories of our HoD letting us bring coffee and food up to class and allowing us to drink and eat in class, and the poor one person would go down to probably buy ten people coffee, having to use cardboard boxes given by the coffee counter to carry up all the cups kick in. then there were her marathon lectures with small breaks in between, all her jokes in class, the rivalry between her and our principal and how open she was about it did give us all a good laugh. Just like us, it was our HoD’s last year of teaching as well. That in itself is a loaded memory now. Then there was the yearly seminar we had in Khandala. Just thinking about it brings a broad smile to my face. While during the day it was all serious listening to the various papers the students presented, the nights were spent bonding and partying it up with our classmates with fairy lights, loud music, alcohol and dancing on the beds. Best nights ever. The small farewell party we put up for out HoD with more fairy lights, food, hot chocolate, a song our class prepared and sharing all this around a bonfire. Needless to say of the seminars I attended all three years, this one was the best.

Another reason the last year was so memorable was because although this was the year we had the least time for maintaining social lives, it was the year we went out to maximum places to eat in with our friends. From Sterling to Kala Ghoda cafe and Ahar to Sunlight and Kitkat. It’s been 5 lovely years with a treasure full of memories. From getting high on the iced tea in the canteen to laughing till tears are streaming down your face, to squabbling over bhaji pao, to birthdays, to class photos to cute guys. It’s been one hell of a journey and finally the day has come, with caps thrown in the air and numerous pictures captured, we’re graduates. This journey is officially over. Xavier’s has molded me into becoming the person I am today and I’m eternally grateful for giving me the best 5 years of my life.

It’s a way of life.

Sweat. Blood. Grit. You make it larger than life.

Time flies. Lines and edges are blurred.

The drama, the heat, the  facets take over you.

The beats riveting deep in your bones, the music leaving behind a trail of goosebumps.

The tears, the pain, the sleepless nights;

the adrenaline rush, the nerves, the frantic helplessness.

The arguments, the distress, the bewilderment.

The people, the cards, the food;

the endless hope, the laughs, the stories.

The memories made.

This, Is where I belong.

Because…

Somethings are just worth doing.