And life goes on.
Our college orientation happens today, like in the morning, at 10 am. Another generation of BMM students will enter the hallowed portals of our ancient college hall and stare in awe at the 'Provocans ad volandum' that stands guard over the stage. They will listen in earnest to long-winding speeches by countless teachers and a few distinguished media persons. They will intelligently introduce themselves to us, their seniors. When the time comes for the free pizza round ( official briefing ditties like these are often followed by a complimentary pizza and coke, which is why most of us turn up), reverse snobbery comes into place while they watch their very epitomes of inspiration, their exalted seniors, go the uncivilised way and act like they've been starved for ages.
Then from the day after that, they come to college with this crown saying 'media student' trying to rest on their heads. They want to believe they are a class apart and so they do !
They all come with dreams. From Borivali, from Bokaro, and maybe even from Baltimore. All of them strive to be different. They all take their personal oaths; they make it their mission - changing the world that is. They lament the state of the 'media' and expostulate about the honesty and transparency that they will usher into this world and so on. Almost making it seem like the world will erupt in a hundred tehelkas.
Then they come to second year. View their juniors with a bit of mixed derision, sadness and nostalgia.
Nostalgia. Sad word it is.
Then they go to third year. Graduate. Look for jobs. Settle into the same mundane 'media' routine. Say that the system is full of rot, you just can't change it. They merge. Lose their identity and facelessly step into the rot.
And another generation of media students has been lost to the quicksand.
And life goes on.