As the days of being Piled Higher and Deeper come to an end, I try to gulp down the lump in the throat with no success. Writing this makes me melancholic, and reminds me of that late October afternoon four years ago when I had arrived in this small German town and even smaller railway station with a bagful of dreams and butterflies in the stomach. Looking back, the town with an unusual pronunciation hadn't taken my breath away on first sight. But as they say, love is beyond first sights and red roses on valentine's day and rather is that feeling of "at home", I fell in love with her without even realising when. Yes we haven't always shared the perfect relationship. Sometimes she would be like the new lover, trying to impress with her sunny warm weather and charming happy faces all around. Sometimes she would be as dull and gloomy as an old couple watching T.V. on a Friday night. Sometimes she would all of a sudden shower on me thin light snowflakes and make me feel like a Disney princess, and at other times she would be as cold and distant as an angry spouse after a fight. However, in all these, she gave me infinite moments, moments that painted the most wonderful kaleidoscope on the canvas of my life. She gave me people who stood by me as I struggled through frequent academic and emotional turbulences and loved me in spite of my weirdness. And she taught me the true meanings of knowledge, compassion and tolerance. She is special therefore, very very special, because in the last four years, she felt like home.