Hold fast to dreams, for if dreams die,

Life is a broken-winged bird that can not fly.” (Langston Hughes)

The dream of college life is a canvas of possibilities, a landscape where aspirations take flight
against the backdrop of academic freedom. It is a place where the future is not just imagined
but crafted through the experiences that shape us. As T.S. Eliot beautifully articulated,
“The journey not the arrival matters.”
My journey began with the end of a long wait, the result of my matriculation examination,
which opened the doors to the esteemed DPS College.
My first day at college is like the first page of a novel, setting the tone for the story to come.
It was the 1st of September when I stepped into the realm of higher education, aware of the
playful tradition of seniors welcoming freshmen in their unique way.
“Life is 10% what happens to us and 90% how we react to it,”
Charles R. Swindoll once said, and with this in mind, I embraced the rites with a resilient
spirit.
The college assembly marked the beginning of the day, a sacred time where prayers and
verses from the Holy Quran filled the air with reverence. The principal’s speech was a
guiding light, echoing a Chinese proverb that reminded us of our agency in this new chapter:
“Teachers open the door, but you must enter by yourself.”
The college itself stood as a beacon of knowledge, its majestic architecture a testament to the
pursuit of excellence. It was a microcosm of Punjab’s intellectual ambition, with students
from all corners converging to learn and grow. The corridors echoed with footsteps, each one
resonating with curiosity and anticipation. The laboratories, equipped with the tools of
inquiry and discovery, promised a world of exploration. The chemistry lab hummed with
bubbling solutions, while the physics lab whispered secrets of the universe through
pendulums and prisms.
In this garden of knowledge, where each book is a blooming flower,
We drink from the fount of wisdom, hour by precious hour
The faculty of the college were the custodians of wisdom, embodying the virtues of kindness,
politeness, and cooperation. They were not just educators but mentors, guiding us through the
labyrinth of academia with a steady hand.
“The art of teaching is the art of assisting discovery,”
as Mark Van Doren once said, and this was evident in their approach. Professor Gupta, with
his salt-and-pepper beard, made calculus feel like poetry. Dr. Khan, the history professor,
wove narratives of empires and revolutions that left us spellbound. And Miss Rao, the
English literature guru, ignited our love for Shakespearean sonnets and Victorian novels.
College life presented a stark contrast to the structured days of school. It was a vibrant
tapestry of freedom and responsibility, where each student was seen as mature enough to
navigate the waters of this new environment. The camaraderie among classmates was
immediate and genuine, a fellowship bound by shared aspirations and the collective pursuit of
knowledge. We debated in the canteen over cups of chai, dissecting existentialism and post
colonialism. The library, with its shelves sagging under the weight of books, became our
sanctuary—a place where we lost track of time, immersed in the musings of philosophers and
poets.
Robert Frost’s words,
“I took the one less travelled by, And that has made all the difference,”
resonate with the college experience. It is a journey less about following a predetermined
path and more about carving one’s own. The first day at college was a microcosm of this
journey, a blend of joy, humour, and the thrill of stepping into the unknown. We formed study
groups, attended workshops on resume-building, and discovered the magic of late-night
discussions under the banyan tree. The annual fest, with its kaleidoscope of colours and
talents, showcased our collective creativity.
In conclusion, the first day at college was not merely an academic formality but a rite of
passage into a world of endless possibilities. It was a day that will forever be etched in my
memory, a day that marked the beginning of a journey toward self-discovery and intellectual
fulfilment. As I reflect on that day, I am filled with gratitude for the opportunity to be part of
such a storied institution, and I look forward to the adventures that lie ahead.
In the hallowed halls of learning, where the mind is ever yearning,
Echoes of the past and whispers of the future intertwine.