In Lieu of Goodbye: Time slips off your hands, and it does so trickily. How soon 730 days whizzed by; did I ever realize the time was spilling off my closed fist? When I first entered the gate of this campus, a security guard had asked me where I was going, to which--as instructed by a friend--I had fumbled a random room number of a random hostel. The answer had to coarsely pass through my throat. But within no time, I got a proper address which I memorized so soon and could answer to anyone who asked me my address in Delhi. Now that it has been so deeply etched in my memory, I will perhaps never forget this address. Jhelum Hostel, Room No: 347, JNU. Now, at this juncture, I ask myself--what do I do with this address? Id probably tell this address to someone who I deem as unwanted, the one who should never reach me. May that be conceit! My roomie, who became my closest friend soon after I first entered in the campus, is also going to change the room. The major difference between his and my case is I am not merely changing the room. Time has slipped so trickily that I am getting metamorphosed in many ways at a time. I came here as a PhD-aspirant, a full time student, a complete stranger to the place, and as a bachelor. I return as a disillusioned researcher, half-baked academic, a job-aspirant, pseudo Delhi-knower, and as a married man. There is a huge gap between these two versions of me. A thing--which I know it as a academic-flotsam and others call it a degree--swings in this gap like a pendulum. I dont know if it ever will touch me! Left behind is JNu with its gate ajar to take many others in, I am going with some fond memories and my private and public experiences locked in my mind. Should I write an acknowledgement? I think I shouldnt. My feeble expressions and this bad piece of writing will be an injustice to those who helped me and remained with me through all thick and thin. .... :)
Posted on: Thu, 31 Jul 2014 19:20:49 +0000