Bidding Farewell.

Its time to bid farewell, to say good bye to all that we have considered our own, a part and parcel of our lives.It is time to say goodbye to all that we have stood for in the past 13 years. It is not taken away from us permanently, but we have the feeling that we have passed on from owners to spectators. As we watch our juniors enjoy life in Loyola- ignoring the inevitable that they will leave some day (like we did).

As we move on from one phase of life to another, we have an inevitable sense of depression-as memories come back flooding in to your mind, blurring your brain with nostalgia and deja vu, dissolving the pain in salty tears. As we rewind Psmith's quote" The time has come to part. It has served its turn.", we often ask ourselves why we feel sad as we are free to come back to the great institution any time we want to. We shall miss our school, no doubt, but it is the fact that we may never see some of our classmates again that causes this mammoth pain in our hearts. For all our bravado about "everlasting friendship", "bonds which cannot be broken" we know fully well that we may correspond regularly for maybe just a few months more. After that those of us lucky to be in the same college or at the same work place or living in the same locality may see each other once in a while, but the great leveller called Time and indestructible distances may slowly but surely break that divine bond called true friendship.

As one of my friends put it, "Loyola is not a school. It is a feeling. Like hatred, love, jealousy,sympathy.......". This feeling, which has driven us for the past 13 years, shall remain in our hearts, maybe dormant, may be active. I had resolved to myself the previous day, that I would not cry on the farewell day, come what may and whatever feelings I experience. You bet it was hard work. Disregarding a fractured arm, I joined my classmates for a final game of football- a game followed and played passionately by our class. I knew that whatever be the result of that match there would be no celebrations, only solemn salutes to the game that binds our class together.

As I along with 47 others bid farewell to our second home which shaped our life, as we say goodbye to a glorius phase of our lives, as we struggle to say goodbye, desperately try to cling on to what we know has passed, I can only say one thing, quote the Eagles in Hotel California.

"Some danced to remember, Some danced to forget".