Friday, April 22, 2005

Purani Jeans

We all were sitting in a room with seniors of the outgoing batch. There was a small party arranged for us as Thursday was the last working day for them. This particular song from Sandesa sung by Ali Haider was being played many times and we all were singing together...

Bas yaadein
Yaadein
Yaadein reh jaati hain
Kuchh chhoti

Chhoti

Baatein reh jaati hain

Bas yaadein..


I could feel the emotions in their heart. The pain of being separated from their alma-mater, the farewell to the four precious years of full throttle enjoyment, the agony of being parted from the great frineds with whom they have lived each and every moment of their stay at this place - all could be clearly felt in their voices. We were feeling almost the same. We would immensely miss our great share of times with them; there would be nobody on top of us to throw away all our administrative troubles, to get free of cost pertinent suggestions on academic issues, and above all, these great friends of us.

Everything which has a begining has an end. For them, this is the end of the four years of a rosy world where everything seems perfect and great - to a begining of the realities of the harsh new land outside. For us, this is the end of our share of treasured moments with them, after which we would probably just be friends with a telephonic contact. We would miss the treats, we would miss the alcohol, we would miss them.




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