Finally, final.

As it happens, the pages are turned to figure out what happens next. And when you near the end of a much revered book, a sense of loss is always on the cards. Once completed, you feel satiated and in some weird way, very ravenous.

Another page was turned this week, the seventh to be precise. Then there was that first visit to the placement complex. Happy faces, jitters and unavoidable disappointments- a potpourri with a great combination of sense and sight. There seems to be a time for everyone, and for a few, it's already here. Congratulations, much!

For a few of my dear ones, their time is coming. I can see it, the hope of a hopeless optimist. It's just a matter of moments before they will have formally arrived, and that day, I'll be a proud man.

Sometimes I wonder, whether my singularity in this entire milieu was a wise decision. On keen deliberation, I can only come up with one regret. I didn't get an opportunity to wear a suit with a red tie. Oh well, someday. Soon.

Final year is special, and every tick of the clock is a memory. A memory to be etched in the mosaic of life, and to be reflected back on with permeating fondness when you have moved on- for good.