I began a journey almost a year ago. I carried in my backpack little but hope. A dream had been realised, a hope had been fulfilled. I was on my way to begin my first year at the school i had been raving about for a little over two years. Finally, i said to myself, finally i had come where i belonged. Exactly the place that will embrace me. It did. And i fell in love...an ongoing lovestory was born.
MICA has given me so much more than what i came here with. It has taught me so many things, helped me heal and carried me along when i needed to be. I found so much here, lasting friendships, my own space, and yes a whole lot of difficult-to-deal-with moments. But i survived... got thru to the other side. I never thought i was capable of the colossal amounts of insanity that i displayed during the time. Maybe it helped me survive. Maybe it brought me trouble. But maybe, at the end of it all in some twisted way, it was worth the shot.
Life will be different when i get back to campus. Familiar landscapes will tell different tales. Hostels that were abodes to friends, will now be full of new beings, strangers at first, friends along the way, i hope. Another set of buildings will play host to batchmates, once home to people who welcomed us to MICA, now off in search of newer horizons.
One thing i'm glad about, my room still will be mine. Chandni will still be home. The view from my window that turned very close shades of green over the seasons, will thrill me again. The setting sun, the moonlight, the gentle breeze blowing and the tinkle of the windchimes, all i look forward to with a hope in my heart. Moments experienced within this bubble will not be forgotten, new ones i ask myself, will they warm my heart? Realtionships were forged, squabbles were sorted, links were broken and "letting it go" became the catch phrase for a while.
I shared this world, this inner sanctum, let them in, even gave them privileged rights. Broken mirrors, kites scrunched up on the wall, post-its pinned up on my soft board. All taken down and packed away for a while. I now will return to an empty room. A room where i lived a life that feels to me like a stranger's today. As i shut the door i had lovingly painted, each brush stroke painstakingly monitored, again the soft footstep of an idyllic afternoon flitted across my mind. It was with a heavy heart that i walked down the steps...off for only three months but already mourning the demise of life as i knew it.
2 comments:
I love the way you write. :)
Can't ever describe my thoughts the way you do.
And i cant ever describe things the way you do, thats why we read each other's blogs! thank you for reading...
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