It’s January and winter in Delhi. There is no hot water on the second floor. You either can go to the ground floor or forgo the idea of a bath altogether. You choose to forgo. For, it’s cold and foggy and you have just come back from home. And then there is a shout. C/22 phone call.
First one than several voices till it’s an incoherent cacophony and you can vaguely make out your name or the room number. Wrapping yourself in a shawl and slipping on the trademark hawai chappal over your socks you rush out blindly. For, you know if you delay even for a moment the call will get disconnected and so will you from the warm, comfortable world you left behind when you caught the train back to college.
At night well after the 10:00 PM deadline you sit huddled over an illegally procured electric heater cooking Maggi with onion and tomato in the background a discussion rages on about anything and everything. The latest hit film, the course load, a special meal enjoyed at home, the general elections, or how one is horrified to realize that parents too have had sex, the proof being our presence in this world. Nothing is out of bounds for we are eclectic and free.
As the hours progress, so will the need to converse, to discuss, to reconnect, to slowly get back in the groove. Some will choose to talk away the night, others tired by the long journey or simply of it all will retire to their rooms and you at last will sit together with your mate and speak of things you can’t talk about in front of the others. Thus the world inside C/22 will once again become warm and comfortable. And you will feel welcome and at home.
First one than several voices till it’s an incoherent cacophony and you can vaguely make out your name or the room number. Wrapping yourself in a shawl and slipping on the trademark hawai chappal over your socks you rush out blindly. For, you know if you delay even for a moment the call will get disconnected and so will you from the warm, comfortable world you left behind when you caught the train back to college.
At night well after the 10:00 PM deadline you sit huddled over an illegally procured electric heater cooking Maggi with onion and tomato in the background a discussion rages on about anything and everything. The latest hit film, the course load, a special meal enjoyed at home, the general elections, or how one is horrified to realize that parents too have had sex, the proof being our presence in this world. Nothing is out of bounds for we are eclectic and free.
As the hours progress, so will the need to converse, to discuss, to reconnect, to slowly get back in the groove. Some will choose to talk away the night, others tired by the long journey or simply of it all will retire to their rooms and you at last will sit together with your mate and speak of things you can’t talk about in front of the others. Thus the world inside C/22 will once again become warm and comfortable. And you will feel welcome and at home.
2 comments:
i already feel i am back in C-22.wow those were the days and i am sure anivita all of us miss those wonderful three years at MHH.remmeber the bhelpuri, kamlanagar and ofcourse THE RED ROSE! wishing you a very happy belated birthday
They sure were. But where are you now?????
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