To bid adieu


On a fateful day in May 2013, my father thumped my back with unabated joy after hearing my BITSAT score of 308. Four years later, I stand with half baked knowledge of EEE (carefully dubbed as wisdom), every single expectation from BITS shattered to pieces and fellow BITSians outdoing the unexpected.

In case you are wondering where is this rant suddenly pouring in from, lend me an opportunity to explain. In other words, rant further. BITS Goa has supposedly taught me everything it had to offer and time has come for me to bid farewell. I seem to have lost the key to this very skill in the multitudes of #OLTs thrown at me through FB, Snapchat, Whatsapp-status or any-God-forsaken-platform-that-displays-images-and-hashtags. Hence, I must begin at the beginning.

The statement “You study in Goa” automatically becomes a rhetorical question when paired with the incredulous stare of a judgemental relative sitting in your living room, stuffing his face with rasmalai you had probably spit in, in anticipation of this exact annoyingly superior expression. Of course, part of your frustration has to be blamed at the grades you just checked on the slower than “IE v7 running on dial-up connection” ERP website, while pulling your hair out in chunks. This talk of relatives and grades wouldn’t be entirely fruitful if it didn’t culminate into the topic of relative grading. At the cost of being termed a hypocrite (as I am guilty of enjoying an occasional undeserved B) I would like to drag the imbecile who coined the term ‘relative grading’ to a math faculty’s office and make him watch while they cheerfully award a C at Av+25.

However, this bitter dose of engineering had some agreeable side effects too. Case in point, the temporary euphoria in the form of watching a fest/conference/hackathon/department week/dance-music night/chai-charcha come alive that you spent gruelling months organizing. Every year in the month of march, a bunch of ex-coordinators of departments and clubs unload three years worth of repressed frustration during interviews for becoming future-ruthless-them while trying to lure second yearites with perks such as leadership skill building and intense pressure handling experience. I would shamelessly like to admit, in my case, the biggest reward was learning the worth of a deep, dreamless slumber after months of sleep troubled by nightmares of speakers missing their flights to TEDxBITSGoa 2016.

Your third year is when college life makes the most amount of difference. Whether you are celebrating earning a paid thesis in a reputed college in Europe, whose name you couldn’t pronounce if your life depended on it or trying to shrug off the disappointment after getting rejected in an interview for summer internship at Microsoft, you have been exposed to the wisdom of sparkling water. For those wondering when was the B-word other than BITS was going to turn up in a post about Goa, sparkling water is my euphemism for vodka, tequila or whatever cocktail your nose prefers to poke itself in and wisdom is slang for the self awareness hitherto hidden under the weight of Thomas Calculus.

Even though the last four years might have seemed like one giant roller coaster ride, at the other end, one comes out with a purpose to life. Or at least, a purpose for the first two years of their upcoming adult life. People accepted for MBA and MS programs will know what I mean. If you survived these four years, you can survive anything life decides to throw at your unprepared humble being. Just carry your sense of humor along, no matter how dry and depleted the reservoir might have become. Hoping this sufficed as a satisfactory goodbye, I will take my leave now.

So long.



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