Out of The Frying Pan

Never thought the day would come. After all four years isn't really that short a span of time. But then, at the threshold, didn't it seem like a jolly quick ride? (sure, many of my compatriots would object to the usage of the word 'jolly' here) Four years, that's 48 months,1460 days,35040 hours... (you get the point-supposedly a relatively long duration of time)...and it seems to have gotten over in the wink of an eye! (pardon me, just couldn't help the cliche). So how does it feel? Well...the first reaction would be that of relief, happiness, euphoria, ecstacy... whatever. Four years of drudgery, four years away from good food and a clean bathroom, four years of that oppressive heat, four years starved of art and beauty, four years wishing you were in some other part of the universe. Phew! Over atlast. But lo! that's not all. What about those good ol' hostel rooms, the loud blaring of your neighbour's speakers, the food at the gate (and even the mess!), those terrace parties (where invariably everyone ended up getting sloshed), those sleepless nights, those long hours at the computer centre, the fests, the drama and music, the litting...and above all, those sorry fellow creatures who ended up listening to all the drivel you dished out and likewise and in whose company the aforementioned four years were made more 'memorable' . Looking back at these and many more, can't help feeling a trifle nostalgic. Fours years up, and what we have with us is a truckload of memories and what they call a degree, B.Tech that is, though I shudder to think how much I have gained as far as technical proficiency is concerned. Yet here we are, with the degree in our hands, (not yet actually) at the crossroads about to tread our separate paths.