final year in college was fun. although all of us knew that we had a relatively fuzzy idea of psychology, we could look at people straight in the eye and say without uttering a word-"i know what yor are hiding from me". i still remember the sweaty moments we've spent in class, trying to grasp all the psychological terms and trying to recollect what we've studied for the last 2 years (since everything we learn is connected, teachers keep irritating us by asking questions like, "so who knows the definition/ meaning /interpretation, etc..of....?"). class hours were difficult not only because we had to plod through our memory bins often but also because they were shocking moments of revelation - everyone we knew (including ourselves) seemed to have a cluster of very serious mental disorders or syndromes. those moments of torture were spent only during class hours though (between which we had 5 minutes breaks to give our brains a little rest). once we go back to the hostel we'd get rid of all that class rubbish the way we get rid of our outgoing dresses and put on the carefree attitude, the way we put on our hostel rags....
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