What better way to look back at gone years than letting your diary paint them for you...
Whooshing visuals of conversations, stolen glances,endless laughters, so many faces... i can't even name them all now, campus rains, overpowering adrenaline; all of it in between those sentences of pointless blabbering, pouring of heart, dreaming, drifting, complaining and onesided discussions i had with paper, which never seemed like stories until i sat down to write the last page!
In this maze that our brains are, we never know which tiny neuron is treasuring which memory for us or when it decides to surprise you with things long forgotten, to leave you smiling and wondering...
Just as i leaf through the stories of my four years of college, i realize so many things have different meanings now.
I'd call it perspective. Things changed as i changed perspectives and yet for me, it's them who changed...I have come to hate the same rains i had danced with, love the same winters i had spent scooping inside blankets... well the list is long.
But the journey was not just about changes. I can't sum up saying that a lot changed... because changes never stop. Only, we see them much later.
This journey was more about going out there and being someone i had never dared to be before that and having a brand new chance at that every single day!
College life is bound to give such wings to all of us. That raw-immature-fresh spirit to step into the unknowns is something i miss the most. Those little wonder-struck hearts we had when it all started, aren't the same. They all got torn, bullied, sewed up or glued together, warmed sometimes and then pelted with ice on the way...
But all for the good.
In the last chapter that i write to my diary tonight, i'll try make myself a backpack of memories to keep. ummmm... a few conversations, some faces, a lot of high fives and chuckles, lessons learnt, best books i read, a birthday present, may be a secret or two, all the admirers ( ^.^ ) , things i didnt say, all those friends who stood the test of time and that one last moment of turmoil of leaving behind everything i ever knew....
That's all i guess.
Farewell Diary, i'll let the dust be yours in the darkest corners of the shelves for i will come back when all my memories in that backpack are stories to share; because the older a memory, the meaningful it is !
details of the backpack rest in my diary only, didnt't put them here for obvious reasons
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