we're no ex loyolites!!

“why are you smiling.. ?” dad asked me. “ classile comedikal..” I replied realizing it had been quite some time since I started staring out of the window n smiling. We were on our way back from Ranchi by train after taking admission there. Memories from Loyola constantly running through my head were making me smile. But each piece of the past which made me smile struck a note of sorrow somewhere within. I knew I could not go bak to the past.. go bak to skool. The thought was scary.

Back in ranchi I had made an effort to contrast the place with our own Trivandrum. The results weren’t comforting either. The dull and dusty roads.. old faded buildings that have seen at least 4 generations.. rusted cycle rickshaws.. seemed like a bad dream.

And you wouldn’t find a single attractive personality anywhere. The well dressed ones looked malnutritioned and the healthy ones dressed up like they were in the BPL. To go by their faces most of them were blank like it was some zombie zone. At the crowded railway platform we felt pity for the benches and seats that seemed like sad appendages. For the people were all too particular about sitting on the floor. Men women children and even 80-year-olds could be seen squatting on the floor hugging their knees. There were just a couple of seats which were occupied.. by the stray dogs who had been denied their rightful space on the floor. dark(wouldn’t be wrong to say black) women invariably wore saris that came in fluorescent orange,green,yellow,pink or red colors. And you couldn’t afford to let anyone know that you did not know Hindi properly and were from another state. Coz if you did you would be cheated and well exploited.

While I looked upon the alien world around me with dread, dad found the silver lining. “class cut cheythu pokan patiya sthalam onnum illa.. you would be much happier inside your campus than outside.” Though I passed the comment with a chuckle I knew he was right. The campus was green clean and very pleasant probably the only good place in the city. Besides a quick inconspicuous dash wont get me out of the campus like it did in Loyola.

Tired of all the travel, I was eager to get bak home.. dying to feel the warmth of where I really belonged.. to curl up amidst a whole team of pillows hoping I would wake up in the morning to discover that I was still a skool kid.. a loyolite..

But being bak at trivandrum made no difference. Things did not fall bak into place. On getting home I learned that seby abin and ben just left for goa. The family seemed to be falling apart. Sami was in Bangalore. Aseem joju n Rambo were alredy off to Calicut. Ajeesh was at bhu already , the iitians(sajad basi Gandhi buji n achu) preparing to leave within 3 days, bala at trichur.. bullet and ms at pala.. klases had started for some at baselios.. moses showed no signs of existence.. job , I heard , took admission at banglore.. aswin in Karnataka.. and many who’s plans I don’t even know of…….. it was all normal, expected, and inevitable yet it all seemed like a big mess..

I had run out of things to do here.. I made a couple of phone calls.. ravi n sajad.. 15 minutes each with them was fun..catching up with all that happened while I was away.. it helped me momentarily forget the grief.. but the moment I hung up, the glum feeling of emptiness was bak again.. I couldn’t put it off no matter how I tried..

Yes I am bak home..but a home without my brothers..a home which I too would leave soon.. a home lacking its attributed brimming life and vibrancy.. it hurts me to look upon it.. but consolation comes from the fact that we will all be back..for we all share something that can’t be shed off with time.. a tag that we all wear with the same pride..the tag that says “LOYOLITE”.. a bond of brotherhood..yes we’re all brothers..loyola was and will be our home..because

WE ARE NOT EX LOYOLITES… WE’RE A BUNCH OF HOMESICK LOYOLITES.