Ode to a Third Year

When I began college, I hated it. I hated the Spirit of Stephania. I hated the Cafe. I hated Societies. I hated my classmates, my batchmates, my seniors. I just wanted to go back home. College grows on you. It give you the comfort of weedy lawns and red brick. And the faces in college grow on you too. And there's a particular chocolate-face that I will terribly miss.

I'm trying to remember when I first met Miss Palakkad Iyer (PI. or Pie. or ∏.). I have a feeling it was for the first yearbook meeting. Or it could have been before that. I can't seem to figure it out. But I did meet Pi. One day for the first time. And it was normal. Another third year. Another face. I liked her.

Shobhna has turned into my favourite third year. The one I'm going to most miss stumbling into college. Because she loves to dig. Because she's the best goddamn editor the yearbook will ever have. Because she puts her heart and soul into everything. And yes, she hates college. And yes, she scares the shit out of me when she says "God, I can't wait to get out of this hell". And yes, she hates Mallus with a vengeance. But Shobhna, without knowing it gave me something to do that I loved: editing. And then she laughed at all my jokes and brought out the cartoonist in me. And then she told me her stories and I found myself telling her mine. Heart wrenching ones, embarrassing ones, funny ones, they all poured out. I found myself caring about the yearbook. I found myself missing her when she disappeared to sniff out dirt and rocks. I found myself standing in the middle of the cafe hugging her while she cried. I found myself giving her the details of my love life -even the ones that hurt me most- easily. There isn't a single third year apart from her that I can honestly say, is my friend (Well, of course there's Ess but that's another story altogether). There's not a single third year besides her who doesn't make me feel like a damn Fucch.

Shobhna, thank you. The hugs, full frontal. The little bits of gossip. The photographs of your life (gory and otherwise) that you managed to share with me this year. The love (that came endlessly). The giggles. So so much more that if I started listing all the things out, I'd develop insanely strong finger muscles. You effortlessly swept away the low self-esteem I had when I stepped into college. You, with your advice and your facebook stalking. You. God, it's crazy how much I'll miss you. Yearbook to me, will always be Shobhna.

Oh and, though you know this already, I love you, Shobhna. I love you, Choco. I love you, Palakkad. I love you, Editor.

I love you.

PS : Sorry for the lack of grammar, coherence and general sensibility.