My final semester has been cut short by a month and a half because of the Coronavirus outbreak; all the students were asked to vacate the campus and go home. Words can’t describe how big a bummer this was. When was I going to do all the “one last time” stuff? We are deprived of a farewell, my project stands incomplete, there are still so many things I wanted to do with my friends, so many photos I wanted to take… all gone because of pesky little SOBs we can’t even see.
Note: Some of you may be wondering why I am taking a contradictory stance after writing, a few articles earlier, that humans needed the COVID pandemic to learn a few lessons. That’s because a small part of me – and all of us – is selfish. A small part that puts me ahead of everyone and everything else. While I agree with everything I have written in the previous post(s), this article is different and represents another perspective – one that is driven by that selfish part.
Somehow, I have never missed a place when I left it. Not the school where I studied for eleven years, and certainly not the school where I spent my 11th and 12th grade studying for engineering entrance exams. But I’m in my final semester of college now, the place that has been my second home for four years, and for the first time, I feel a void forming. I can sense that I am going to miss my college the day I graduate and enter the corporate world.
I think it’s because this is the first educational institution that has been so much more to me than a place of learning. For most of us, it has been anything but that. With a life expectancy of 70+ years, you wonder why these four years (give or take) in college make perhaps the biggest difference to your life.
There will be certain things you will miss about college life in general, and for me, the most important thing is the protected environment. These four years are for you to experiment, in pretty much every domain: subjects, careers, relationships, independence… you can afford to make a mistake, you can afford to fail. The moment you go out, the world outside is far less forgiving if you screw up. Would I miss the campus itself? I don’t think so. I am going to be in India for the next few years surely, and I’ll have a chance to visit the college every time I come home.
Would I miss the people? A select few, definitely. From the schools I have studied in, I am currently in touch with only a handful of people; a handful of people after 13 years of schooling. Thanks to this, I thought I was mentally prepared for the fact that only some of the people I have interacted with, in these four years, will stay. As I change cities or jobs, I will meet new people, new acquaintances, new neighbours, new colleagues… and that’s how it is. The phrases “Keep in touch!” and “We’re in the same state, we’ll meet often!” are more of courtesy statements than promises.

I don’t think I’m ready to let go of a few people I’ve met in college. In all probability, Skype calls will still happen, yearly meetups will still happen, but the comfort of knowing that they are just five minutes away in another hostel is gone. As you grow older, with more maturity, you choose your friends wisely. I guess that’s why you value friendships more too, and the pain of losing them is also more.
But the four years in college – surprising as it is that they’ve gone by in a flash – have given me a truckload of memories, many of which I revisited last week. The college tradition is for final year students to make a farewell form of sorts that their juniors or friends fill in and one question I had asked was what their favourite memory with me was. But, in the end, that’s all you can take with you. This reminds me of my earlier blog post where I talked about experience vs memory and which one matters more.
I’ve heard from enough seniors that after college, “life becomes boring”. And incredibly busy for most of us. You don’t stay in touch if you don’t set aside time for it, and the longer you put off a phone call or meeting, the lesser you start to miss your friends, and the (vicious) cycle goes on.
I’ve seen my parents’ generation still stay in touch with at least a handful of college friends decades after graduation. Somehow, I feel that my generation has already got accustomed to the fact that friendships won’t last. I came across this wonderful article in the paper a few weeks back. You see a friend text suddenly after two months and you immediately know he wants something from you, but he needs to exchange a few pleasantries first as an act of courtesy. It rarely or never dawns on you that perhaps your friend is calling just to talk to you.
The phase “cold-calling” has a negative connotation because it either reminds you of random call-centre guys nagging you (to sign up for an insurance policy perhaps) or it reminds you of the time you sent emails and LinkedIn requests to two dozen HR managers requesting a summer intern, and none of them replied. Why don’t you try cold-calling your friend?

It seems appropriate to end with this quote from the sitcom, How I Met Your Mother, which speaks for itself. If you really want to stay in touch, set your ego aside, and be the one to initiate a conversation. I’m sure you’ll be quite surprised at how much you have to catch up with someone in the future.


