Incidentally, the first time I cried was just a few weeks before that, when Kiranjeet, the first love of my life, moved abroad to study at her uncle’s dream university. She had no idea that I was there the day she left, looking at her from a distance as she said goodbye to her parents and disappeared into the vast entrance hall of the Indira Gandhi International Airport. Later, I sat in my best friend Vedant’s car, parked on the road outside the airport, watching flights taking off and waving them goodbye. That was when I cried for the first time.

And that spot near the airport was, ironically, the same place where Kiranjeet and I had made out in the same car after our school farewell party. It was where I had felt both ecstatic and then devastated across a span of a few weeks. How was I to know when Kiranjeet and I were kissing and promising to meet each other more often that this very place was also going to mark the end of our relationship?

Because Kiranjeet had never loved me the way I loved her. She loved her ambitions more. I, on the other hand, had the opportunity to study at IIT Kanpur and pursue elective courses that were more suited to my interests, but I chose to stay back in Delhi only for her.

That night, I had sobbed helplessly on Vedant’s shoulder as he drove me back home. Vedant is my dearest pal and only he knows that I’m capable of shedding tears—men are not supposed to cry after all! The rest of the world looks up to me as this motivational warrior on LinkedIn who’s capable of taking over the universe with his intelligence and charm. I’ve been described as one of the most eligible and sought-after bachelors in the country by numerous magazines, but the truth is that I’m very lonely.

As we make our way towards the auditorium, we leave behind corners that echo with memories of late-night study sessions and youthful dreams. This place, my college, where I enrolled as a young boy with a broken heart, means so much to me. It was exactly the sort of place that I needed to be in to pave the way for the Nirvaan I’ve become now. My days here were a time of boundless possibilities, where every lecture sparked curiosity and every friendship felt eternal.

A bittersweet longing for those simpler days when I was filled with hopes and aspirations sweeps through me as nostalgia grips me harder. The person I’ve become now is stronger and more confident than ever. And this was exactly what I’d wanted for myself. I’m now a name to be reckoned with in the startup industry. I’ve made it in life, finally! I’ve arrived! I find myself filled with a sense of pride and gratitude.