# The Final Days

> The final days of my master's, and perhaps the final days of my study era, have arrived. Days that pass under pressure but sweetly. The final days and months I walk in the university and think about the days that passed here.

2025-11-13 · Alireza Azadi · https://a-azadi.blog/en/post/lds

Three years and two months and a few days have passed since I set foot here. But these are the only days I enjoy walking in the university. One or two days a week, if the company's workload allows, I go to the university. I set off early in the morning towards the department lab and usually arrive first, and the room is empty.
I spread my stuff in my usual spot and get on with life. There was a duo who were there every day recently whose names I forgot. I don't know what happened to my brain that it doesn't memorize names no matter what trick I pull. These poor guys were two Italians who were racking their brains over their thesis. They were supposed to submit it today because they wanted to defend in December. The guy told me he wants to go to the Netherlands after here. He was a sharp kid and seemed to know his stuff. We talked a few times, and I saw he had something to say about everything. He also wore black nail polish, which caught my eye from day one. Interestingly, even in appearance, he looked like another guy I knew before who also wore black nail polish, and both of them were nerds/geeks.

The days I'm there, I mostly discuss the questions I have about the thesis with the professor and his student or give progress reports. My professor is an honorable man. Last time, because he couldn't spend enough time with me (even though I hadn't coordinated beforehand) due to having a class, he apologized several times, so extensively that I felt embarrassed. The PhD student I work with on this project is also a good guy. He doesn't look like Italian guys. He has an ordinary look with a pale and bony face. With average height and a thin build. Thinning hair and hollows under his eyes. Eyes that bulge a bit. Like one of my undergrad friends, he throws his arms and legs around when he walks. He walks with a swagger and reminds me of Amir Samurai. He is also a knowledgeable kid. Despite all my slackness in doing the thesis I took from my professor a long time ago, they still accommodated me every time I asked for time. I feel ashamed of myself for my actions.

I usually stay there until 6:30-7. On the way back, it's completely dark outside. If I leave at seven, I see even fewer students around. Every time, the return routine is the same: I get a hot XL chocolate milk from the building's vending machine, zip up my windbreaker, and walk slowly from there to the subway.

On the way, I think about how happy I am that there's no one else. That no one knows me and I know no one. That alienation that made me flee from the university in the early days has now turned around and gives me peace. It's a strange time. This ending, these people, and this solitude really cheer me up. I have no regrets wishing I hadn't been away from the university so much during this time. It was never mine. A hot chocolate milk had never given me so much joy.

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