The Undergrad Eulogy

| 2020 - 2023 |

3 years ago, when I used to think of university, I used to think of Delhi. I used to think I would step into the pages of the City of Djinns. I was supposed to rediscover myself there, in the romanticised gullies in the masjid and the streets serving rather cheap food. I would eventually cut myself off from everyone I knew from before Delhi, and make space for people, people who were more relatable in thought, class and spirituality.

I never physically made it to Delhi. Instead, I logged on to a computer with servers operating out of an SEZ in Karnataka. It was a full-blown corporate institution, with great Academics. They offered me the full ride to study here, last penny included. I wouldn’t say I took it without a second thought, largely because a private institution was the last place I wanted to study in. Other people I know pay a great deal to be here, so I guess something must be really good about this place. Looking back, it was worth it, and over the next solitary year I’ll spend here, I guess it’ll continue to be worth it.

3 years after passing high school, 2 years post a pandemic, we are a week away from being bachelors in some kind of arts or science. In these three years, I think we've seen more deaths than in the last 20 years, hence I think it's only right I write a eulogy for the last three years.

Everyone writes romanticized things when they leave university. It’s become a cliche now, there’s that cup of coffee to keep you awake at deadlines, then there’s making Maggi, and maybe ordering food at midnight. My accounts of university nights are not going to be like that though. I’ve barely made Maggi in university, I don’t drink coffee to stay awake to meet deadlines, and I’ve never ordered food at midnight. There are no rainbows and unicorns. My memories of university are sick & depressing; yet somewhat hopeful. After all, I’ve spent more time in the hospital after getting into university than I did in the 17-odd years before that.

This place wasn't the kind of university I thought I would get into. It’s a bunch of half-painted concrete buildings in a desert, populated with a factory and half-constructed apartment complexes. I don't think it's a university yet, it's more like a huge high school masquerading as a university. Though I must say, it does a pretty good job at it. I hope someday it becomes a full-blown university, that has an academic and aesthetic signature of its own.

To say that I am not the most social person you'll know is an overstatement. I am one of the least social people you'll know. The point I am trying to make is that if anyone feels that you should've known me more, it's not really your fault. I don't think it helped that of the two years we were here, I spent a good eight months home recovering from the substandard medical care our university offers. Nevertheless, we are all here, and honestly, it's great to be back. It's great to be among people again.

For a good period of time, I thought we'd all submit that last assignment, pack and leave. Just like that. Then again, life happened and plans changed like the multiple times we were asked to come to university and then to cancel our plans at the last moment. I'll be here for a whole year, which is low-key good because I'll have more time to figure out my life. On the other hand, it's going to be a rather lonely affair. It took a couple of years to warm up to you guys, and I’ll be long gone before I do that with another group of people.I never thought I'd say this, but I'll miss these times.

I’ll miss everything that happened behind the doors that read 203, 301 and F1-A. 203, 301 & F1-A, you’ll be missed.

I’ll miss the kadupathile chaya we gulped a couple of minutes before curfew. Midnight tea, you will also be missed.

Above all, I’ll miss the people who made life easier for me when I left for that semester-long hiatus and rejoined the next semester. People helped me get that laptop charger from the floor, pick up the stuff that slipped out of my hand without making it obvious, the people who helped with the whole lot of logistics that come with moving into a new hostel. You guys mattered. You’ll be missed.

These are the days that must happen to you.

Humanities 2020-'23(or'24)