We come to college from our hometowns to get an education knowingly or unknowingly pushed into studying for a certain period, let’s say four years. It’s a closed environment, away from the real world, where most of us like you and me start exploring our inner thoughts, notions, and goals.
In this environment, where many come with the same purpose, we either end up making friends intentionally or become close out of circumstance as same class, same project group, same sleepless nights before exams. We participate here and there, stay up all night studying, do assignments, and go through a roller coaster of ambitions and unclear goals. We hold onto the belief, or maybe just a hope, that we’ll always stay together.
But then clarity comes. You begin to see reality: the people you laughed and chilled with will soon go their own ways — following different goals, ambitions, or thought processes that no longer align with yours. You realize that many of those you called friends were actually just classmates. The real friends were few; the rest were batchmates, clustered together simply because the destination was the same earning a degree, getting a placement, whatever name you give it.
Seeing this, I began to question myself why does this happen? But then I remembered the thought of the traveler: I was always a traveler of time. And now, the time has come to change direction, to walk toward another destination perhaps the right one this time.
In the end, I’ll remain what I’ve always been a traveler of time.