Second last dabba.

“If you don’t know where you’re going, any road’ll take you there” 
George Harrison.

The moment I step out out of the geeky tumultuous lane of school to step-in into a new door of life, the path of which is not defined and life has opened its arms to get that definition.

Finally the day has arrived to enter into the sophomore year of the beautiful facet of life which is about to begin, I had a life long everlasting tryst with the Batch, to be precise, specifically known as the Batch-in’s, the customs, commands and the values that we perceive from our Baap’s gets imbibed in our blood and in every part of our so called professionalism it make a strike, so as not to give up and keep on fighting.

As the engine of the train throttles, we made a relation with it which can’t be expressed in words. Soon after the entry into the dabba, the inner stint of bakchodi blending with the horror of 3rd button slap seeps-in, just to showcase that, these moments are priceless and can’t be back no matters how much bucks we make and how many continents we roam.

The ring of brotherhood which the unison of batch anthem comprises of kishor kumar, honey singh, BC sutta and various 70s melodies has made, whose bondage is still unbreakable keeps on hovering some times in life, only to realize that life is to live without any regrets and to enjoy whatever is there in the platter served presently rather than making an excuse of it.

The saturday’s dark corner JD session’s, the good morning miss kharun assembly, the batch funda’s, the diaries, the seniors meet up, the slaps, the formals, the black shoes, the BPLs, the GPLs though all these things will never come’s back, but the non-erasable memories that all these beautiful, venerable, sterling memories has made with the circle of emotions that forms in that rectangular dabb, keep on saying to move ahead in life with the stoppages (station’s) and to complement (Kharun) and enjoy every bit of life no matter in which may it comes,as it is being said-

My heart is warm with the friends I make,
And better friends I’ll not be knowing,
Yet there isn’t a train I wouldn’t take,
No matter where it’s going.” 
Edna St. Vincent Millay, The Selected Poetry

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