"No more": Bye Bye IIM Ahmedabad

No more would the swivel wooden chair rock me for 70 restless minutes. No more would I push two doors to enter into the air-conditioned sleeping chamber. No more would I turn back every minute to curse the lazy minute hand that forgot to move every now and then and had to be reminded. No more would my sound-proof head play Sudokus on mobile.

It's all over. The flickering tube light synchronizing itself with the static in the speakers, the room going lightless when the sleepy projector threw slides onto the ageing white screen that painfully dropped down from above, the pale beige curtains that didn't move for decades, the old table in the middle with a new rectangular cut, the eternally covered glass and the water bottle, the empty paper cups playing on the stepped floor, the sleeping heads and dozing faces of friends, the outrageous figures on my notebook's last page, the rectangular square box that hung from belts and took rest on the table in breaks.

I will miss you CR1. Even though I didn't like to sit there waiting for the minute hand to move. Even though I was pained with endless lectures joined in series. Even though it was difficult to negotiate my way out if you ever wanted to go out during a lecture. All I know is that if I ever come back to this place, and sit on those swiveling brown chairs with wood scooped out to the shape of thousands of enlightened souls who passed through these portals, I will surely feel my throat choke a little. I will surely feel the screen dropping from above with that so familiar groan and projector lighting up. And the hands on my watch and those on the eternal witness hanging from the wall going still. As if time has stopped since 2007.