In the storehouse of my memories, the last day at the school occupies a prominent position. I can never forget the day when I left school and entered the practical life. Our school was the place where we spent four golden years of our lives, where we formed new associations. Those happy days, noisy laughters, careless wanderings still haunt my memory.
We had completed two years of Degree Class and we’re going to appear in the B.A. Examination. A day was fixed for filling the forms and paying the dues. I reached school early. All the fellows were full of high hopes about the examination. We had a lively conversation because we knew we would not see one another for a long time. My own feelings at that time were a mixture of joy and sadness. I was happy because I had completed a part of my education. I was sad because I was leaving my friends and school.
Soon we were asked to assemble in a room. A Professor came to guide us in the filling of our Admission Form. My thoughts wandered classroom memories thronged my mind. I remembered how. often I felt bored in the class; how I disliked some of the professors; how, one day, I was asked to leave the class for creating disturbance. But now all these things belonged to the past. It was with much difficulty that I filled my form correctly. Next I stood in one of the long lines to deposit fees. We were treated like guests. Yes, we were guests in our own institution. The clerks were unusually helpful on the day, they wished us good luck. When I paid my fees, I felt as if the bond of association with the school had been cut off. My heart sank a cloud of depression overwhelmed me.
Before going home, I decided to have a last view of the school. I went to School Union Cities. My mind flew back to the last two elections. What a wave of excitement! What a life! How noisy the processions! These charms have gone forever. Next, I went to the Common Room. It was as busy and noisy as ever. The only difference was that I was a stranger now. I remembered the happy hours spent there, playing and chatting. The school canteen was full of life as usual. I walked to the library. I had a look on the countless books which I could not read. Students were depositing and receiving books. My eyes were full of tears and I remembered Tennyson’s lines:
Tear from the depth of some divine despair
Rise in the heart and gather to eyes,
In looking on the happy Autumn-fields
And thinking of the days that are no more.
In honour of the out-going students, a farewell function was organized by third year students. All of them hid us farewell with a sad heart. My heart declared:
Farewell, my friends! farewell, my foes!
My peace with these, my love with those.