Home at last. The flight was boring to use the politest word at disposal, and it's such a relief to be back in the air conditioned rooms of our house. Despite the terrible temperatures of the Middle East, and the barrenness of the desert all round, it still feels home. This was where I grew up. This is home.
And yet, there's this small and truthful voice in my head that goes, no, you don't miss this place so much as you'd miss college. And I think, yes. Our home for four years, NITK gave us glimpses of hell, and shorter glances of heaven, yes, but it was still home for four years. I'm already missing the long walk from the room to the bathrooms at the other end of the corridor as the taps at my end are running dry! (NITK hostels are built on a slope) Among other things, I also can't seem to forget the powercuts. The horrendous stench of sweat that didn't seem to stop because the fans weren't working. The amount we used to curse the people in the generator room as they would never switch on the generator. And always used to be partial to our block, no matter which block we lived in.
Memories flood my tiny cerebrum as I think of the bygone four years...the four years for which this sleepy little town on the west coast of India, Surathkal has been my home away from home. And finally, as I sit in the comfort of air conditioning in my parents' home here in Bahrain, the reality bites me, and I realise....I'm no longer an undergrad. Make no mistake ...I can't call myself a graduate either; my final sem results are yet in the waiting. But tehe point is, as I lie now and recline on this couch, I find I have nothing to worry about, and all I can do is to sit and reminisce.
It's all over.