Joka, my love.

What do I do?

The magic of student life’s coming to an end. The time of dirty tees, shared toothpaste, stupid poker games, positively alcoholic drinking sessions, weird parties, retarded wing mates, useless crushes, sweet dreams, lazy sleep ins, grand slam bunks and binge watches is coming to a close. I’ve done this for six years with nary a break, and I have no idea what I’ll do now. I am scared.

I could wax eloquent about the sweet promise of the years that lie ahead. A life of managerial competence, responsibility and salaries. But the fact remains I’ve never felt this bittersweet in a while. Turned 23 a week ago. That’s 33% of a life done. And all I’ve done is learn. Even I chuckled at that last sentence. You’re not alone.

I’ll be working for the first time in my life. Bartering my time and effort for money to keep myself alive. I can’t complain. People have lived and died in the shadow of the amounts I’m going to make in a month. And in the midst of all this turmoil, there’s only one statement that keeps ringing in my mind like a church bell on a Sunday morning. “ An investment in knowledge pays the best interest.”. Or was it “ Wine is constant proof that God loves us and loves to see us happy.”? I can’t quite decide. The mind’s a fickle thing.

Sentimentality. Never thought I’d be this person. This college. This place. These rooms. These friends. These memories. Like Jahangir once said when he thought Nur Jahan wasn’t listening, “If there is Paradise on earth, it is this, it is this, it is this.” Well, it would be, if the mess food was a wee bit better. Cliches are cliches for a reason though. I walked in a kid, and no matter what my friends say, I walked out a man. Tee hee. Someone farted here. No, seriously.

IIM Calcutta. You gave me friends, love, knowledge, Netflix and an unlimited ability to shitpost on reddit. Thank you, baby. I love you. Let’s hope I make you proud. For my sake. Stay strong. You’ll be a part of the main city before you know it.

Oh, baby. I love you.

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