All my bags packed, cartons sealed and the bedding rolled up, waiting in a line near the empty barren iron bed, ready to be whisked away at the crack of dawn. My room looks so empty, and i can’t help but feel sad when i see the empty racks and the barren desolated wall devoid of all the colorful posters and sketches i had stuck on them.
My masters is over and so is my stay in the hostel room which had been my cozy, untidy, nook of solace. My little home away from home. Leaving this place is like leaving behind a piece of me. This is my second time of leaving behind a place of my own, but the pain and the feeling of emptiness is still the same, it brings fresh pangs to my heart that travel all the way up to my eyes. When i will be at home and whenever i would feel upset, i would miss my bed where i could cry my heart out till no more tears would come and console myself to sleep or stay awake till 5 am with no one to check me and watch all my favorite shows till wee hours in the night or practically do whatever i felt like.
Packing all your things, you come across all the little stuffs and things that were lying forgotten at the deep corners of your rack, a lost library card, a broken key, a twisted medicine tube or a small black dried up flower, and every discovery brings back a flood of memories and you smile and with a shake of your head throw them into the carton labelled ‘HOME’ and not the one labelled ‘TO TRASH’. The only thing that I can think of right now is that when i will be at home, every little incident is going to remind me of my friends and all the silly talks we used to have out in the veranda, under the starry sky and the fun we had walking along the forest roads. With time, all the promises to call everyday and group chats on Facebook fade away and we all get caught up in the fast rushing thing we call our ‘life’. But when out of the blue an old friend calls just to know how you are doing, you feel so elated and honored that the person thought of you and took some time out for you.
The memories of the past two years, all the crests and troughs that i have been through and all the people who have stuck by my side through thick and thin, whether it was to come late long after the hostel in time or run a hand over my head whenever i was upset or to listen to my irritated ramblings or to discuss about shampoos on the basketball court, am going to cherish every one of them.
For me, GOODBYE is the hardest and the meanest word in the dictionary.