This post has got no meaning. It doesn’t deserve to be read by any. This is just a way to feel good. This is just a way to know me better through the words I scribble in here. I have a pen,and a paper. I’m going to write this down thinking about all the good things that happened to me. There are many and I will pick one from the rest to fill this empty face. This empty face will be filled with a colorful vision that you must have experienced a long time ago. It’s about college life and a place where I stayed over three years of my life.
¶ Remember days of yesterday how it flew so fast. The mist around me filled the loneliness and a father walked with his son to show him the future. It was the year of freedom, joy and memoirs.
Today I sit in here and recollect that wonderful year I had while traveling to a hilly place that need no exaggeration but just a word and it’s ‘beautiful’. My father had a dream. He wanted me to do graduation in Bachelors in computer Application where I had to deal with figures and graphs. I didn’t disappoint him. There were few friends who helped me out in dealing with my eternal struggle (Mathematics). Every day we used to rush down to attend evening classes, and our hostel was situated on the top most hills where we had to climb up, which was an exercise for many who have tried and got tired loosing weight. So, I shrunk and looked a lot like a Skeleton. I had friends from different parts of the world and to name a few; Biniyam, Elias, Alexfrom Ethiopiawas close to me. First year was all about to be acquainted with each other. That could be in the form of ‘ragging’ or ‘friendly’ way to grab attention.
In a way I had lots of fun going deep into the fish pond at the twelfth hour when the mist almost kissed my cheek and left me breathless. And the same seniors wept when they left the college after their course completion. I do miss them.Trust me, I do!!
¶ Our hostel was built by a Spanish architect where its beauty is not enough to be expressed through words. We were four of us in a room and one being my cousin; I didn’t have much problem sharing secrets. Oh yes, we did face many problems at that point of time which, of course does provide us with a good laughter now. Man, I miss the exercise of running down the hill to occupy my favorite chair during dinner. Dear, I miss the fun we used to have while sleeping during the examinations… (You see, I used to study a lot)
Now I see a look on your face and let me tell you I wasn’t like Ishan. That needs a lot of creativity you see. (I wasn’t worse though).
Those cultural programs… Poetry classes… When it rains… When the clouds roll by and my assumptions of being a part of them… When the lightening strikes through our pane… When the nature sings a lullaby for us to sleep… While walking through that wet meadow and slipping through it as though we never wanted to get out from there…Those games we played at the Billiards center...life... Oh, it was the Summer of 69.
¶ When the classes used to disperse and the times I have climbed the hill to reach hostel, have made me nostalgic to pen down this post… I have never missed out rainbows. I never felt so lonely seeing those beautiful scenic around me… Have I ever realized its value until I reached this place where I can smell only fresh sand?
Every day is a history. They never come back. Every memoir is a pebble. They can never be replaced with any.On the course of life we can choose the road we wish to travel. That’s what make the difference. Life is just a breath away. I wish if I could pen down my life in here but then I’m not looking for any recognition. To an extent I can talk about them.
I just wanted to let it out… I can feel the empty space… I’m staring down… But nothing comes to my mind… The picture is clear… I miss my college days… I’ve got a lot to share with you all…But pain isn’t the easiest thing to write… But will surely get back to you with the adventurous life I had once. Till then, Smile… Because… You are special…
