Its difficult when past and present collide.There I was at the rusted dirty gate,the only thing separating me from what i am and what i was.Everything i needed was on the other side but reaching there would be like opening a hornets nest of memories,each sting evoking pangs of nostalgia bitter sweet.I hesitated at the gate and then willed myself to get it over with as fast as possible.
But like everything else in SCT College,even the simple letter of recommendation i needed was to take time.As always nothing was where it was supposed to be,the lecturers lost in a sea of students that thronged the halls and paths that made the College.So i ventured on initially avoiding spots that contained the many memories but i found myself pausing every now and then, relishing all the memories as they came like the fresh monsoon rain,first in patters and then in torrents.The last classroom i sat in,the canteen i used to sit in,the workshop drawing hall that i spent hours in,chatting with friends or studying for exams,the dirty unused water cooler,the dirty shabby classrooms and the fading posters and motto's stuck on the walls.
There were places i sat with her,places i sat with them,places i sat alone,places i sat in the midst of others still feeling alone.The college was a minefield of old memories.
Quite aptly the day i chose to enter the college was the day the attendances for the students got published.Watching the students beg and plead for increases in attendance,the calculations of duty leaves and cricket leaves i remembered Kurian and Anand the two blokes who never sat for one hour but got away with more attendance than even the smart girls of our class.Somethings it seems would never change with the years.
I met a few lecturers and talked my heart out with them.Of course they were really interested in the class statistics,who's where,who's with whom,who's what and what not.It was nice to run into them and i was glad that they remembered me.I discovered a new thing as well,nobody would call my batch the 2006 CS batch,they were referring to us as Anand's Batch.The dancing singing class representative seems to have become the benchmark of the class that soon i was introducing myself as a member of Anand's batch.Well at least its one way to be remembered !
I couldn't get past the mirage of images that circled my head.The passages to the computer lab where we stood and prayed before the scary lab exams,the claustrophobic classrooms and the parking lot where we stood and shared many a joke.
A teacher remarked that it was hard to believe 3 years passed and i smiled at her.We are all growing old and far apart.There are classmates i keep in constant touch with,some of them have gone on to become an indelible part of my lifeline,the others have faded into photographs and faint memories.But while i stood there each and every one of them returned,all 65 of them,laughing and smiling everywhere i looked.
There was a lump growing in my throat and i felt like my Adam's apple would explode.As i mumbled my thanks to the teacher who vetted my letter of recommendation, i knew the heaviness in my heart would linger on for at least a day.And then i broke into a run,away from the maddening smug memories and away from it all.
With the fork!!
5 days ago