I was waiting for this day to happen. Waiting for the day I'd move on to a better place, and then gloat at all the people who poked fun at me for being ambitious and outspoken, who laughed at me because I wanted to do something, who misconstrued every step I took, who tried their best to pull me down to their barbaric level, the level I hoped never to reach.
I took a couple of major risks and decisions this year, and if it wasn't for the risks I had taken, I wouldn't have finally got what I wanted the most--to leave. When I knew I was leaving, I waited for the happiness, the bliss, and the pleasant warm feeling one gets perhaps after receiving a thoughtful gesture from a close friend. But none of that. I felt relief. Relieved that I wouldn't have to go back to that place--that place where I was misunderstood, where I was a misfit because people couldn't understand someone who wanted to lead a more fulfilling life. A misfit because I didn't preen before the mirror and bat eye-lashes and discuss frivolous things, the way other people did.
These reasons sound ridiculous to me now, but I certainly didn't strut around University with a black smudge on my nose, so at this point, the hat certainly fits.
Anyway, the misunderstandings were caused by someone I thought was my friend, but who clearly proved me wrong and managed to get an army of people to side up with him. Well, for his own good, people eventually saw through his facade of "good-manners and smooth tongue", and what they saw nestled under the reels of silk was something unimaginably ugly, and they vowed to stay away. I saw it first, but well, by the time people realized I was right, I had returned to my happy place--the books.
I don't have all bitter memories. Contrary to what people think, I've had (and still have) a ton of friends, and a wonderful roommate, who stood by me through the toughest times. She didn't want me to go, but she knew I wanted to, and never once talked me out of moving on. She pushed me to it, in fact and was always the person I could call and grumble about how screwed up life was, the person I could bawl to, and at the end of it, she'd only smile and tell me that it would all be ok. She must have inordinate amounts of patience to tolerate my pessimism, my negativity, and my tears. Then there were the others in the hostel, people who knew everything about me, people whom I could trust with anything, people who understood me and who supported me. The ones who called me and wished me on my birthday, who congratulated me over my results, the only ones who knew. The ones who understand, who remained loyal and faithful and who made my last days at University memorable. I've had wonderful memories of University that I wont forget. It took just one person to break it all, but he can't get to my memories, he just can't.
I know I am moving on to better things, but I'll miss University all the same. I'll miss the gang, the outings ,the food, the gossip, the long conversations nestled in our beds, watching horror movies on laptops, the junk-food, the football, the room downstairs courtesy a broken leg, the lame movies we watched in the theatre, the mall, the "sandstorm", birthday celebrations, cake-fights, cold-drink fights, singing in the hostel room off-key, the fights, the squabbles, the arguments, the debates, the make-ups after every fight, the hugs. There is so much to remember.
I may be moving on, but I'll never forget.
And for the record: I'm not leaving University because of the people in it. Far from it in fact, considering that the person who could have been the reason I left is longer viewed with the same eyes. I loved the people at University. They were the reason I held on to sanity. Anyone who has read my blog will know my real reasons for leaving.
I hope the Moot Court Committee at University is relieved now. They wont have any rebellious bitches to deal with.