The last page of notebook !

The last page of notebook !

Yesterday I had classes of M.Phil and I was carrying a diary, like other students to note the points to be discussed by our professor on queries we have.

We are M. Phil students and matured enough to write in a diary and preserve the advantageous words of the professor which is going to be helpful in research work. But after the class when I was driving back to my place, the whole episode reminded of our school and college days classroom boredom and how the last pages of my rough note books became my life saver for years.

Gone were the days when the classes used to be lengthy which implied to be boring if you are not seated on the first few benches. That does not mean siting on the first bench makes class any better, but you are sharing the seat with nerds and you have to act attentive even when you are yawning and flatly sleepy. Me and my friends to avoid the discouraging gazes and bombardment of randomly picked questions by the class teacher/lecturer, always chose to seat somewhere, the faculty was paying lesser attention to.

Tearing the last page to half, we made chits,wrote funny comments and passed to our other friends seated at a distance. Calculation of love percentage, FLAMES, tic tac toe, the funny sketch of the professor, random designs, phone numbers, work-to-do list and many more things were scribbled in that last page. When somebody said something we needed to note, the last page turns out to be handy.

After reaching home, I searched for my old rough notes for about an hour and finally got hold of one. Excited, I turned to the last page and the memories flashed in a jiffy, making a slide show of the time I lived back. It was my graduation days rough note. The note made me nostalgic and a drop of tear rolled down from my left eye. It was an emotional moment.

I had the few handwritten lines by a friend, who is no more in this mortal world. The copy brought back the memories when he was around, always fighting, nagging and teasing me for being the most independently opinionated woman he ever saw.

Caressing his stupid message written about the pot bellied baldy faculty who was such pain to bear for more than fifteen minutes, but our class was of an hour and fifteen minutes, my lips curved into a smile.

Placing the notebook carefully in my cupboard I thought, how much emotions and memories just a last page of notebook  can carry ?