The End Beautiful Friend!

As Jim Morrison croons ever so softly in my ears in a way only he can you can’t help but be a bit romantic about the days gone by. But sadly even good old Jimmy can’t help, let’s be honest no one is going to miss those gazillion god forsaken presentations, those extra lectures on weekends, those bloody surprise quizzes (yes they were always a surprise even when the Profs were gracious enough to announce in time) and what was that all about, starting exams on Sundays; optimisation of resources eh?

That cold sweat even in the chilliest of Delhi winter brought about by mere thought of placements, that crappy mess food and those dastardly chain mails, hostel people we day scholars seriously had sympathy and compassion for all your troubles but a separate mail group could have done wonders to our sleep. The worse part every damn professor knew my name and before you even think, I must confess it had nothing to do with my CP or DCP just my hairstyle or the lack of it. What I will miss is that laughter out of nowhere in class; that euphoria after getting placed brought down by some serious kicks in the choicest of places, hanging around Sonu Dhabha who learnt more economics from being in the vicinity of IMI than us; he practically implemented the concept that monopoly allows you to charge insane prices, but he allowed us that night fag so we didn’t complain.

Entering the exam room while being confused about which subject’s it was let alone the syllabus (believe it or not it has happened), not give a certain four letter word (s) as long as the attendance was marked; that ohh so beautiful parking lot; that’s where the party was. And what would we have done without smart phones, without candy crush (yes I did play it unapologetically so).

Those open book exams where the “open” books were hardly of any help, you needed to know which topic lies where in the first place and it doesn’t help when the cellophane packing is still on when you are trying to figure that out. Mobiles snatched, I cards kept; this batch has seen it all and done it all (“all” can’t be mentioned here) and not to mention some embarrassing confessions (not for us) on Facebook. Venkatesh Sir’s hilarious jokes just to keep us awake in the second class; I wish I could share some here but as Kathuria Sir would say Chatham house rules prevail. Those clichéd lines by many profs “when we were your age” yes Sir/madam when you were our age you also pulled the same crap we did.

Running around PGDM office in the basement hoping somehow that attendance figures would change miraculously and a subgrade would be saved and then that college gossip, no one was spared and if some were, well then they seriously had a pretty non happening college life. So yes as much as I hate to admit it, IMI you will be missed if for nothing then just for the fact that before anyone could get a whiff 2 years had come and gone.

Those friendships forged won’t be missed because we will be there in every painting of each other’s lives but the canvas shall cease to be the same. As Mr. Morrison would have said “It hurts to set you free; But you’ll never follow me The end of laughter and soft lies; The end of nights we tried to die This is the end; Beautiful friend, the end!” Asta la vista IMI you were a beautiful friend!!!!