I finally got done with school. It was the end of the fourteen years of my life- all spent in the same school. It was supposed to be bittersweet, nostalgic, melancholic and emotional, at least, that's what all media taught me. It wasn't. I loved that it was finally ending. Perhaps it was the lack of vacations for years in a row, the lack of deep friendships, my dip in academic performance, or it could have been the fact that it did not feel like the same school anymore. In 14 years, the school had not only managed to completely change its buildings, but the prayers said in the assembly, its teaching style, its uniform, its colour scheme, the house names, the children's park, its symbol, the copy and book covers, almost everything. Imagine the classroom walls, chairs, tables, staircases, corridors looking almost completely different from your first memories of the school. Don't get me wrong, I am grateful for the wider staircases, the ACs, and the washrooms being miles