You only live once.
But not in video games.
3 lives, when compared to reality, feel substantial (to say the least), but everyone is aware of what comes after that: Game Over.
Bam! Reality strikes.
While life is no Nintendo Switch, college life imitates video games more closely than you think. The difference is that in Xavier’s, you measure it in Malhars.
3 Malhars is all you get. You celebrate sometimes, and there are times when you are faced with challenges. Nonetheless, you pick up the pieces and go at it again the following year.
Until...
Until you realise there is no next time.
The next time is perhaps stepping into uncharted territories and exploring the world outside the four walls of the campus. Living the life college was once preparing you for.
The meaning of Malhar and the importance of it shifts. Individually, with each passing year, and for each batch as a whole.
In the first year, Malhar is aspirational. Often equated with the brand value of Xavier’s, it is the first fest of the year and an introduction to a world that only expands thereafter.
FYs approach Malhar with a gleam of hope, inquisitiveness, and anticipation in their eyes—unaware of the whirlwind they are about to find themselves in the midst of. They are eager to apply, and even more eager to work. Every task becomes a learning process as they navigate the fest, figuring things out along the way. It is their nervous energy and the excitement they exude that keeps the workforce motivated, a constant reminder of Malhar’s undying spirit and thrill, and of why the other two batches participated in the first place.
Over time, spherical glasses replace the rose-tinted ones, offering a 360-degree view of Malhar, but perhaps that is the beauty of it all. You watch the FYs fall in love with Malhar’s perfect imperfections, the very things that come to define Malhar for them, and make them choose to stay back.
The second-year students return with the intention of reliving what Malhar felt like in FY, yet they are met with a different version of the fest—one that puts their leadership, their patience, and their emotions to the test. They have already been witnesses to the events, the concert, the Conclave, and the people they encounter through Malhar; they understand its rhythm, and therefore, naturally compare everything to their previous experience and the standards they had set.
But there is also a faction of students who missed out on taking part in FY, and for them, Malhar becomes an opportunity to make up for lost time. They have experienced other fests in college; they know what to expect, but they are still on a journey to discover what sets Malhar apart—it is not the novelty that draws them in, but the legacy.
For many SYs, Malhar is no longer just about the past and the present—it is also about what comes next. Some are hoping to leave behind an impression strong enough to earn them an OG or OC spot in the next Malhar.
SYs occupy a unique position, making their place somewhere between the two contrasting ideas of Malhar—that of the new and the familiar, that of FYs and TYs; balancing the two out.
And then come the TYs. One final dance.
Loudest in terms of volume; strongest in terms of influence—but beyond all that facade is someone simply taking in the surroundings for an extra few seconds, quietly sometimes and sometimes visibly. They want to try their hands at everything and will have the same ‘last time’ reason to back it up.
The aftermovie hits a little harder for them, because it is not a semi-colon for them; it is the full stop. The realisation is gradual. Pre-Malhar and during Malhar, one is swamped with work, and hence, there is barely enough time to sit with one’s thoughts. The rush of deadlines, responsibilities, and moments leaves little room to process that ‘this is it’.
It is on the third and final main day that you see them slowly but surely coming to terms with this acceptance, when noise begins to settle, and it is impossible to escape the weight of goodbye that is approaching. As one bids adieu to Malhar, the three years come back to you in a wave of nostalgia, and if you do not know yet, TYs are a walking personification of nostalgia.
In the three years, your vision of Malhar transforms, and Malhar presents you with different versions of yourself. It is a two-way street; you play the game, and the game rewards you.
So, a piece of advice—while the console is still in your hands, give it your all. Make the most out of every try, and play the game at every chance you get. Immerse yourself in the wins, the losses, the chaos, and the moments in between.
Because the masterplan is not just in reaching the end, but in everything you do before you get there. So, when ‘Game Over’ finally flashes on your screen, there are no regrets.