My Dear Source of Hope
During my five year stay in a place called Dhanbad where every college structure is mysteriously painted red, I express my gratitude towards all those who made my stay memorable.

My dear source of hope,
I spent 5 year in my college without any attachment. I rarely expressed any emotion towards a bunch of red buildings inhabited mostly by not so friendly human guides. I secluded myself from every debate that required mental effort for bringing forth arguments which validated or challenged all our cultural practices. I could not brand my college as good or bad. Doing so would be unjust.
While it is true that not some but many administrative policies caused me intense sorrow, I found joy among my own. I met people — lots of them. I met people who owned Bose and Apple. I hung out with people who had no money but biggest of hearts. I met people with unbelievable dreams and I met some who just want to stay happy. I saw boys fighting over a girl and I found one who held human life most valuable. I unfortunately got acquainted with those who never bathed for weeks. Then, I spent time with someone who considered missing a day at gym a sin. I met people who were not good with people and I saw some always charming their way. I watched people killing their hope and I saw some barely holding it alive. I met an overweight person who became local Arnold and I met a melodious someone who wants to become Marley. I met some childish people and I also met some grandparents.
There was something in common among all of them — they all needed doses of hope. I never told my sources how important they were to me. Not the professors, certainly not our administration but people — my people kept me going.
If we ever interacted, then I got a wonderful dose of hope from you.
Everything ends and it’s always sad, but everything begins again, too. And that’s always happy. ~The Doctor
Thank You.
