It's going, it's going, its gone!

I was just getting used to writing the date right too.

Sigh. Life seems to teach you a lot of lessons. Like how a year is over before it really began. Or rather, everything begins later than it should. Except classes, they start too early. 10.30 is unholy, I tell you.

The year is past, and it's been a good year. I'm pretty sorry it has to go, actually. We could have been friends, best buddies. I learned a lot from Oh-Nine, and she gave me some of the best moments of my life. Thus far. But she moves on, seemingly disinterested in my sorrow, for the last few days have gone faster than the ones before, faster than those before them, in some sort of evil, orchestrated and ineffable mathematical equation that pits me versus divine geometric progression.

The satisfaction from this year is, well, enormous. I wrote more. I designed more. I was a better friend, and a better person. I helped give one HELL of a birthday. I had this amazing, reserved yet fun team working with me during Festember, and this absolutely lunatic bunch of committed souls I reported to. I actually used sun-lab a lot more, and blogged. I got myself into some semblance of shape, and it felt awesome. My writing got better, to my eyes at least, to a point where I would finish a particularly inspired poem or post, then keep checking if it was still there, or I was dreaming it.

The spoilsport, of course, is that I end the year without some people who I started it with. Like Bear, Ani, Monty, Asish and the like. It took some time to get used to not seeing these crazy seniors in campus, but the junior batch more than made up for that. Crazy bunch, I tell you! Teaches you a lesson, that. Life is a network problem - The total inflow always equals outflow.

Did I mention I had Operations Research this year?

I attended my first interviews, my first GD's, my first written test and my first mock-CAT. I also experienced a few completely baffling situations where, had I looked up at the skies, I would have seen the stars arranging themselves in a manner that would have been conspicuously similar to, "T-A-K-E-T-H-A-T-!-O-W-N-E-D-!". But alas, as irony would have it, my eyes were downcast and that particular phenomenon will forever he consigned to the dustbin of fantasy. As I read somewhere else today, there were forever many slips, between the cup, the lip, and that final, divine sip.

An aside, I also figured out the time it takes to run 500m with bad sandals and loose jeans, and the exact aerodynamic disadvantages of having a long, capacious bag when a smaller sling would do. I also found that however much you run and jog and jump and crunch, some things in life still take your breath away.

For reasons mentioned and for those that currently cannot be, Oh-Nine was a great friend. The end of a year always contrasts with our diurnal tendency to proceed, progress, grasp, move ahead. We cling to the year past, because it was good to us, and because it doesn't care enough to wait for us. Typically human. But the Law of things, that intangible web that seems to puppeteer us into alternatively scratching our foreheads and clapping our hands, that measly rendering of the essence of the divine plan... it seems to suggest that as the days get shorter, the days get better, and quite inexplicably, life gets longer.