If there were ever a dearth of words to describe emotions, this would be it.
I wonder why.
After all, this is just the end of another school year. Semesters tend to start, and semesters tend to finish. Each Friday still has a Monday waiting in the wings. For those of us who are just between semesters (in theory, moving closer to that elusive commencement ceremony) this time is like any other.
And yet, some of us have conflicting feelings in our hearts at this time of year. Namely, those leaving our hallowed campus: this spring's graduates.
But the mindless ASU bureaucracy often reduces graduation to signatures and forms and fees. In the rush to make sure a deadline does not separate four years of toil and its reward, graduates often miss out on that special feeling they ought to have.
I can feel it as I see some of my friends get ready to leave. By observing them, I can revisit some of what I felt on that sunny Missouri day two short years ago.
The moment you cease being a student and join the ranks of alumni is more emotional than you would think. Suddenly your life is in a vacuum. You are in a situation in which you have never been before. You know that you've left behind Lot 59, insipid Residential Life rules, meaningless USG elections and other tripe.
And then you realize you have nothing to grasp. You just want to ask yourself, "OK ... What next?" Whatever you do the day after graduation is bereft of the structure that automatically accompanies school life. You are excited as well as slightly apprehensive of what life is about to serve you.
You also feel a strong desire to look behind and find comfort in the familiar climes from which you are about to be estranged. Your past made you comfortable, since you were all too accustomed to the friendships and memories.
Now with a fresh set of eyes and a new world to see, you feel like someone who has just jumped but has not yet landed in the water. Standing between the past and the future feels like an unopened present.
Yet, sooner or later you convince yourself that life moves forward. Beyond the uncertainty, every graduate knows that an adventure awaits. You respond to that adventure with the confident excitement of an achiever coupled with the perennial fear of the unknown.
When friends tell me they are about to graduate, all these feelings run through my mind. I now realize there are some things that make this one event so meaningful.
As graduates step out of ASU or any other school, they have the chance to be idealistic again. This should not be a time to let any well-orchestrated system shackle you again.
A college degree will help you earn a living and pay back loans that gave funding for ASU President Michael Crow's new office. What is really exciting is that commencement day earns you a brand new life.
Imagine the excitement of buying the new car you have craved. The thrall of moving into a nicer apartment almost alleviates the inconvenience of having to move the furniture.
Life is less about procedure and more about possibility. You don't feel the pain of the 'B' that should have been an 'A,' but instead the power of all that you can do with the newly acquired seal of approval. You feel like the heart of the 5-year-old has merged with the mind of the 22-year-old.
This is the chance to put behind the small mindedness of formal academia and grab life with relish.
About five years ago, (back when I had been in the United States for just three months) I was nervous -- unsure of why I had made the decision to move. I often felt alone and somewhat insecure.
Then one day -- while on a visit to Chicago -- I stood on top of the John Hancock Center, and the skyline gave me an exuberant feeling of youthful vigor. I suddenly felt great about seeing those lights, and I felt that each grew brighter as I felt better.
Standing on stage and collecting that diploma is like being at the top of that big building. As you look out, the world seems so much bigger and brighter. The power of possibility overshadows the darkness of night.
As I write my last column for the semester, I hope each graduate -- even if you are a Republican -- feels the optimism and the sheer energy. You may not know it, but it's life's biggest gift.
When you throw that hat in the air, feel the power. As you get closer to closure, good luck!
Nishant Bhajaria is a computer science graduate student. Reach him at
