Friday, May 29, 2009

Hair do?

What is with me and long hair? Why do I like it so much? I mean, people survive with shorter hair right? Why do i have to go through the drudgery of maintaining it? Can't I use the numerous hours I spend on it for doing other, more purposeful things? Why doesn't it shine as much as it used to? Why do people mistake it for a curtain? Why does vanny feel like tying me up with it all the bloody time? Why does tia think it goes better with the wall than with my head? Why are people compelled to talk only about my hair in the testimonials? I mean, ain't there more to me as a person than just my hair? Why am I referred to as the girl with the long hair rather than with my name?
Hold it!
It's gone now. The hair, the title, the cribbing. It does feel like a part of me has been chopped off. But I'm learning to live with it, or rather what is left of it. After all, maybe there's more to me than just my hair.

Shut up & move on

Meet a fresh graduate from a month of his graduation and ask him about college life. You'll notice the solemn tilt of head, the gloomy drop of the chin and the inevitable "I cannot believe four years passed so quickly". Well for me, it was an era. Something I thought would go on for ever. And especially, the final semester.

What with just half of us on campus, freshers taking over all our favourite hang-out spots, graduation hanging like an ominous cloud in the distance, friends breaking up, bonding, re-bonding, solemn oaths to be nice to everyone before we leave, going out every alternate day because we are 'sick' of the campus, staying back every alternate day knowing we'd miss the darn old place, the numerous farewells, people talking about future plans and goals, hostel assistant being extra nice since she needn't have to put up with us the following semester, signing yearbooks, buying parting gifts.. phew!! you get the idea. Everyone gets caught up in this insane rush and there was more than a moment when I wished life had a pause button to it.

The last few weeks were decidedly the worst. People packing and sending their stuff home, fussy juniors moving into what had been our home for ages, pulling out the 'It's my mess and I like it' posters from the walls, being yelled at by Madhuri for vandalizing the doors with a black jumbo marker, friends leaving for home, going to the station to see them off, crying on their shoulders and pledging to call every week, dragging our feet back to the hostel with an empty head and heavy eyes, and finally, pulling ourselves together to see the next set of friends off. Before this became a routine, it was my turn to leave. Having had my share of farewells and hugs and cries, I resolved not to let myself leave in a rush. I wanted to drink in the last few moments together and so remained a silent by-stander to watch the twenty odd people hugging and crying and laughing and cheering, emotions overwhelming them all at once. The journey passed in a daze and seemed like any other journey home from BITS. Only it did not hit me then that this time, there is no going back. I am not sure if the finality of what happened had sunk in yet or if I just cannot relate the occasional mood swings to anything in particular. But every time I hear my phone beep, I know its one of my friends calling to find out how I am doing. I know that even though everyone had moved on with their lives, there's always time for an occasional evening out, a phone call and a hug.

Having recently met the few of us who are still in Bangalore one evening, I realized it's OK. It's OK to part, as long as we are still in touch and we know everyone's doing just fine. If college has taught me many things, the biggest by far is to shut up & move on.