Thursday, 11 May 2017

From Fresher to Sophomore

Bit by bit we Hack your wit ;)

Number 311, the board read. A mess of a room sprawled with clothes aplenty. There were just so many of them! You think you’ve packed them all and the trolley bag’s zipped up and done with, only to find more of them lying about hidden under the bed, on the window grills or even in between the bundle of books. And then you would start all over again.

But then calling our room a mess would do injustice to the rooms of archi(tect) students; home to unwashed vessels of noodles and poster paints alike, and un-bathed artists sprawled on the floor with models/charts stacked on their beds (do forgive me for this reveal). While the most that our room had were piles of cloth. And lots of fallen hair.

So the three of us ran about the room scrounging for missing stuff, discovering things none of us owned, and figuring there was a shortage of bags or cartons to fill everything with. Soon enough we were perched on our ‘master’ bed of five we were so proud of, munching on chips and sighing sadly over our roomie no.4 and 5 who had an exam the next day and so couldn’t join in our celebration. It’s cruel to have our exams end on different days, don’t you think? So much for our much awaited last roomie-hangout. There we were, talking in hushed voices in the dark so as to not wake the poor ones beside us, wondering how a year had gone by all too sudden.

Here’s a throwback to the first few dragging months of college. Back when we found a class so quiet and boys so boring they wouldn’t even talk (alright maybe they thought the same about us). Back when we made it to 8 am classes ‘early’ and had mess food three times a day. Back when we played badminton hoping to shed some weight, and had lazy evening discussions to get our class hyped up, although it never worked. Those were the days...

Who would’ve known that in another few months, our sleep cycle would shift to the class hours, our breakfasts to biscuits gobbled during the morning classes, and our free evenings to ... to … well we couldn’t even tell where they vanished to! One day we were reading the college blog as a desperate fresher in search of assurances, and the next we’re already getting calls of inquiry from school juniors aspiring to follow our footsteps. When did the in-between happen?

That night as the three of us drifted off to dreamland, we were done filtering out memories to hold dear, outweighing the little disappointments we’d put a finger to. Those days of late night dancing and ice cream treats in the room. Getting locked up in the mess among the many night outs writing play scripts. Common room birthday parties and group studies. Small escapades to the city that the others may smirk at, but ones to relish all the same. Weekends of togetherness, hollering shamelessly for our teams, never minding being on the top position or the very last. DJ nights and prank calls. Crushes and couples. Laughter and love. . .

With the luggage neatly tucked in the car’s hatchback, I settled down to skim through WhatsApp. There it was, a message that screamed for attention amidst the many others.

 “So how was first year?”

Well. Here’s the answer.


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