This is the end, beautiful friend.
It is very hard at this stage not to regress into a series of anecdotes about how wonderful/hilarious/weird/awful/REAL these last five years of law school have been, but I want to talk about something a little more profound (for lack of a better word).
I guess I’m writing this because as I was studying for my exams at 4 in the morning, it struck me that it was the last week of college. That in a matter of a little more than a week, I would no longer belong to this University. I would no longer be a part of the incessant fights between students, teachers, the Administration department, the Accounts department. I would no longer sit in my room with my belongings strewn all over it, with Renuka right opposite me, as we work in silence, but in the absolute comfort of each others’ presence.
I have been miserable many times in the five years, I have been angry many times, I have felt both positive and negative emotions, towards this place, towards the people in it, but there is one thing that I have never felt – alone. That is what I want to say today, that I will miss each person I saw everyday, even if I never spoke to them, that I will miss every nook and cranny of a much loved and much hated campus, because while I was here, I was never alone.
For these past few months, which slowly shortened to weeks, I have been waiting for it to really strike me that college is about to be over. I haven’t cried about it, I haven’t even truly been sad. I realize now that it was because I can’t be sad about leaving college while I’m here. While I’m around people I’ve been seeing for years. How can I possibly think college is over when the MCC sends so many emails about the IMS, how can I possibly think college is getting over when we have small and big fights over our common IDs, which grab our attention for a while, before they get replaced by the next big thing. It feels so unreal. I’m a part of this college, its system, its working. We came to college when it was barren, barely ready, and we’re leaving it a thriving, loud, hot MESS. Maybe I will truly realize it is over when I leave on 13th, maybe it will be the day of the Convocation, but I personally wish I never realize college is over. I want to live my whole life with a small part of me thinking I’m still in NLU Delhi.
Even as I’m writing this article on Microsoft Word I automatically switch to Times New Roman, 12 with 1.5 spacing. That’s what this college has done to me. When I was leaving school (which I loved, and was miserable to leave) I thought that the impact school had on me was immense, it was some miraculous place that helped me find myself, like a support system where I would always belong. College has not been like that. Yes, I’ve changed, yes, I have found myself, more thanks to my friends than the college itself, but what this college has done to me is that it has left its impact on me in subtle, barely noticeable ways. When I automatically turn to Times New Roman as a font, when every whistle I hear anywhere makes me pay attention, when going anywhere in peak summer means carrying a dupatta because of how cold class can get – that is what this place has done.
I don’t think any of us are leaving here the same people we were when we entered it, but I want to remember, most of all, these small things. I always want to remember each person’s roll number from my class, I always want to remember where we used to walk everyday, where people would go when they wanted some privacy, I always want to remember that before the Moot Court Hall was that, it was a bare room where we used to debate. I know you can’t come back to what you leave behind, and believe me, I’m going to struggle with leaving this place behind because I’m not ready to do it, but while I’m not sobbing uncontrollably, I just wanted to say thank you, because of you, I was never alone.