My last editorial

And thus I sit down to write. My final editorial. My final attempt of chronicling GEC per se. I write as I think, this could well end up like a chaotic mess of resurfacing emotions, jumbled into a beauty-less heap of piled up dirty clothes waiting to go to the laundry. Where do I begin? Definitely not the overused, overheard story that begins with the first day one meets GEC and ends in a high note of how the journey over the years colored one’s life with friendship and hardships and other hashtag adjectives. May be I should just go brutally honest and blurt out what only the bold have been able to uncover yet. But then, I am not the bold, let alone ever have been. For yes, there have been times when I ought to have taken the stand, even though that meant being stranded in a crowd. Perhaps that would’ve been a different story altogether, perhaps not as unforgiving as now.

But pause. Pause for some air, lest I choke on the finality of a regretful past. On the invariability of things that were. And as equally on the inevitability of the unseen future. How this is coming to an end today, is not even close to what was planned about it yesterday. Four year gave unprecedented lessons with deeply intended messages, sometimes even solo morbid ones. I have a heart sagging with a thousand memories, whilst I sadly surrendered before more of them could weigh me down. And for all I know, when this will finally be over, and what will be left is a lonely whimpering soul, I’ll know and I’ll remember with a weird sense of gratification that I’ve let myself in through these thousand worlds with the whole of my heart, and that in no small or big amounts could I have asked for a different ending.

It pains me to think, when time takes shape, each one of us will wither away to oblivion. Dreadful the thought is, but firm as your truest belief. You will be missed. I will miss you, the campus will miss you, graffiti will miss you, the gulmohars will miss you, the evening breeze by the side of the gallery, the canteen and milma will miss you, the nights in crammed up rooms, the shared lunchboxes and borrowed shirts will miss you, time will miss you. And at this hour of vanity, the only right thing to do is to bid farewell to all that will be missed. Adieu GEC.

Peace befalls me.

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