The Story

I don't know how to begin

'Cause the story has been told before

I will sing along i suppose

I guess it's just how it goes

I am nostalgic this morning. I don't know how to put it. JUDE classes are ending for many. And I am feeling the pangs of leaving college. I did not go for my college farewell. I felt nothing about my college ending. Nothing. Yes, slightly out of place, in all the nostalgia I did not relate to.

I have been looking at all the Facebook/Orkut albums over since last night. None of my friends are from college. I had always grown up hearing how college will never have the simplicity, bonding that school had. But looking back, all my closest friends are ones I met after school. In the last 4 years I have known the most amazing people and I know, this is it. This is the bond that will last a lifetime. This is what I will always miss. Crave for.

And if there is one college I will fondly remember, it is JU. The engineering canteen, the Union room, the monstrous rabbit bins, the trees, the jheel-paar. JUDE. All this comes with a strange awkwardness. I don't know what exactly it is, but I guess it is the question at the back of my head, am I allowed to miss something I never belonged to?

The evenings me and Dhruva would walk in through the 4 No. Gate to find Kaichu after the Edit-Pub course(?). The lebu cha boy. I miss Kaichu. A lot. Then the fests. The band competitions at OAT. The freshers. Once I remember being so high a after playing on stage, I left my keyboard back by mistake. I had to come back to get it at 10.30 in the night when i finally remembered.

Then bugging Doyeeta, Suchismita, Bimbabati to come to Moni da's when Subhayu and me would leave college disgusted in the middle of a hot summer afternoon. All the jokes about the disappearing crows at Moni Da. And how people jacked off in the ketchup-pots. Then going to Champadir chayer dokan.

It used to be such a nice place back then. The place started being frequented by strange/weird people gradually and we moved to the morer chayer dokan. Not more than a year and a half back.

There is this small dent in the footpath in front of the tea-stall. Our favourite past time is to watch people trip and fall. That is, when we are not swearing and screaming and scandalizing mothers of school kids. I cannot think how I will ever get used to any other kind of life. But I hope and pray, that i'd always miss these days. Love these days as the best in my life. That's how I'd like it.

But i don't know how it will end

With all those records playin'

I guess it's just how it goes

The stories have all been told before

I guess it's just how it goes

Norah Jones :)