There was an importunate sense of disbelieve which settled in with each passing day. Call it a count down or the final steps to graduation. Whether one enjoyed it, crawled through it or simply surpassed it. The end ultimately brings back a collection of lived in memories. It’s a catastrophe, moving beyond the confines of a long accepted environment. Like it or not, the constant habitation leads us to discover people, places or hobbies which can help capitalize our time. It seemed hard at first, at the return of every single seasonal vacation, the sweet less festivals, the absence of mom made dishes, the hugged departures from home. With greater hopes and lesser expectations we plunged into the great sophomore year which taught more than just distraught. Emancipation was the newly added word in the dictionary of life. Being away had its perks. However there was a lot to be learnt from the nifty people and gritty surroundings. Halfway through came in the mid degree crisis. A shadow of realization seemed to embrace our souls. Were we where we are because we wanted to be? Or have we already given up to circumstances, forces and situations, considering them beyond our control. But a shadow lasts until sunshine, and so our realizations were short lived. Our curiosity in clueless ness propelled us into our pre final years. We could look down when confident and look up when in doubt. Being the middle kid for once wasn’t all that bad. The gravity of the word final hadn’t touched our conscience. How much damage could then a preceding pre final year do? We spoilt ourselves, lived like the only upcoming responsibility was our 21st birthday. And unlike mystery novels the final chapter did not carry the ultimate suspense. The entire college era was a mystery in itself. So how much more could one expect at closure. Confusion perhaps was the only rage among the passing out students. Mind you, it’s called passing out for more than one reason. We blindly let ourselves in to thinking that the confusion is future. But a knock at the back door makes you realize, the confronted confusion is over the past, the done and the have not done. Whereas, fear is what resides within the uncertainties of the future. Fear of being placed at a university aisle or a professional courtroom. Nevertheless, holding on seems too outdated. Your part in that place is over, your connections may last; your recollections might become foggy. Beyond all, finally facing the world your parents lived in for the last 20 or more odd years, brings forth a rush of excitement and apprehension. Whether my footprints make me a better person or the world a better place, time shall tell.
