Twilight is a weird time, one which evokes a sense of peace and restlessness at the same time. It is not really a pleasant time, but yet we find ourselves attached to it in a submissive kind of way. It never fails to induce a sense of soul being stirred. The sun is almost there, almost not there, and so is the moon. The light is little, yet sufficient for some, and not for some. You don’t really know whether to switch on the lights or not. It kind of is reflective of your mood, if low, sad, in a shell of your thoughts – then you probably won’t put on the lights, and instead put on some radio channel playing old songs, and open the doors of your balcony, and stare endlessly in the sky, which is showing all the possible combination of colours. The birds have already returned to their nests, except for some long lost ones, on their way back.
Though some would probably never find their way back, you realize that, fearing you might end up being one of those. Sadness and disappointment are easy air to catch this time, with the surroundings all seeming to be trying to hold on to the last few moments of light left, to cling on to the scarce amount of day remaining, before the darkness dawns; which ultimately will, you know that. Sadness and pleasure are opposites, but sometimes opposites co-exist, and this is one such time. Sadistic pleasure, or whatever be it called, sometimes, the thought of being sad fills you with strange sense of pleasure which you cannot explain even to yourself.
This time has always had different contexts, though with same shades of connotations. When the days were spent at school, twilight would be an alarm, a warning, that playtime was about to end, to pack up from the grounds, to wrap up the remaining rounds. When the days were spent at office, it marked the onset of that feeling of impatience, of looking again and again at the dials of clock hoping a quick exit, realizing somewhere deep though that it will only be possible after every single trace of light has been engulfed by the night. There was one place, however, where twilight never registered itself, it seemingly merged itself into the day and the night, where the realization never occurred that night was the absence of light, rather it was just a light with different colour, different shade, a day consisted only of the day and night, and no twilight. It was college.
And I am going there again, to a college, to those classrooms, to those lecture halls, back to where I belong. I have got another chance, to re-live those wonderful memories, or rather re-create them, renovate them, and add some wonderful details to them. Or maybe it is a chance to do what I could not do that first time, and always wanted to; or to correct what went wrong the first time, to keep the last time as a template and plan this time so that nothing goes wrong, nothing goes against my heart, against my thoughts. For a moment, and more, I thought of listing down all what I think should not have been done , all what I erred, in the four years of college gone by, and to stay on guard this time, to stay alert, not to let go, and not to repeat the mistakes again. But as I began to remember them all, and lost myself again in those memories, it came to me that making mistakes is perhaps the most humane thing, the one which leads to real emotions, real relationships , bonds, and the memories we cherish. We might believe otherwise, but we don’t really have control on how we manage the matters of heart, and perhaps I will make the same mistakes again, or maybe different ones, but with new people, new place, new world, even the same old mistakes will teach me something new, will make for wonderful memories, I believe that.
I feel like being on Platform 9 and three quarters, waiting for my Hogwarts Express, whose whistles are already in the air, and it is just a matter of moments before I set out for a new journey. After an year in the real world, in the world of muggles, of people who believe only in sanity and conventions, and discard magic of all kinds, of love, of faith, of dreams, of miracles, I am heading back to my world of magic, a world of freedom. It might be a different place, a different world, and different people this time, but it will still be college, it will still be magic. To my Hogwarts, to X.L.R.I. , to Jamshedpur, here I come!
…And even those lost birds, the ones who could never find their way back, they’d build their new homes, I believe that.