Back to the hostel
Back to the hostel after an year. You had almost forgotten the musty smell of wet clothes and detergents in the hallways. You had fogotten the winding steep staircases. The loos that smell acrid from incessant piss. The Mirrors that make you look flat and wobbly. Yoo had forgotten the incessant chatter of girls in the corridors, the long queues of boyfriends at the gates, the almost blind watchman who still thinks you are a heavy lashed boy. You had forgotten the putrid smells of the hostel canteen, the burning hot seats in the front lawns, that would brand your asses for ever. You had forgotten the wonderful feeling of having roommates and of course the inconvenience they caused.
You had forgotten the sarcastic glances of your roommates if you tried to hide your body while changing clothes. You had forgotten the broken roads, forever submereged in water that you suspect is from the sewer. You had forgotten the watery pulses and clay like chapatis. The rings of a thousand mobiles in an hour, talking in hushed whispers if roommates are sleeping or studying, borrowing of clothes, shoes and sometimes even underwear! You had forgotten the fun when tuckboxes of a friend arrived from home.
You had forgotten the best year of your life.
But it’s all coming back now…
- Neha
