The White-wash Refugee Night

Wednesday, 8_02_2012: …We (excluding me =D) woke up earlier that day…there was a great hustle bustle in the common room, our present residency. We packed our bags, and shifted everything we own to the back side of the common room, our trunks, mattresses and so forth.

I, as usual, lazily woke up at seven in the morning, folded my bed, stuffed everything into my trunk, and settled it with the others’ bags. We headed for college then…

Our hostel is getting painted inside out. It didn’t bother us much at first, even when we heard the news that girls from our neighboring hostel had to shift out of their common room for the purpose and spend the next three days God knows where. It started to bother us only when the same time broke unto us.

Most of us roommates got free at noon, and we kept wandering in the college as is our hobby.  =D We waited for the others to get free. Then we decided to stay in college as going to hostel would be a waste of our energies: we had no place to stay anyway.

Fourteen sorrowful hearts with lots of complaints and harsh feelings (x’@) settled in a circle in one of the college gardens. As light as butterflies, these fourteen hearts were carried away with the “photo session” that started soon (again, as is our hobby =p). Then the Netizens meeting was over and Aadi appeared, smiling at us. She’s an active member of the club. The club I myself don’t know much about as yet (=D).

We relaxed for half an hour on the bed of grass, and went back to the hostel at 3.30 pm. The common room was only half painted, rather only half white-washed by now. Disappointed, we scattered to find shelter in some seniors’ rooms. Teyni and I went to relax in the warm sun, and also to munch on some sweet. We talked and laughed for some time, then went to decide our near future (that is where we were going take an evening nap =D)

Dabi, a really sweet senior invited us to sleep in her room. We thanked God for bestowing upon us His mercy *slow dramatic violin*…but this feeling drowned immediately as we saw two charpoys awaiting us.

 *doh* =D

I tried and tried to tell myself that this is THE most comfortable bed I’ve ever known: I pictured a soft and bouncy four-poster, with muslin drapes and a silk sheet…*trrrriiiing*

The alarm for 6.00 pm rang, and it was time to attend a lecture on religion that a pious woman from another medical college had come to deliver.

She made us all cry for two hours: her words were touching and her prayer was harsh!

Then again we all were back discussing the same issue: where do we sleep tonight?

The first thing decided was that as we would get fourteen burgers delivered for fourteen empty, growling stomachs.

=D

We had a small party then at the back-side of the half white-washed common room, and then went to the warden’s room to beg for mercy (=p). However, all our whining and wailing was in vain.

At long last we won the battle against our self respect, and collapsed in a senior’s feet =D.

I told her she resembled Kristin Stewart…and check out the magic of my words, she agreed to keep us!!

*HILLARIOUS*: P

By the time we shifted 5 mattresses to her room, it was past midnight. The moon was laughing at us mercilessly. It hid behind dark clouds with shame when it saw we had finally found refuge under a roof of BRICKS rather than the star studded sky!

We were fourteen girls on five mattresses in a small room…Imagine that! R.a.k tucked us in this tiny space most comfortably. We had fun for some time (as time passes quickly :P) then on recalling the exhausting day, we remembered how tired we were. This sent us to sleep. =)

Hostel (part II): Dedicated to R.a.k.

Somehow, living in the common room has turned out to be a blessing in disguise, the major reason being the motivation for studying from my thirteen room-mates. Then not just studying, I've learnt to enjoy life to its fullest, something I would not have realized otherwise because I am not a multitasking person. =(

R.a.k, my roommate and a good friend taught me multitasking by simply letting me follow in her footsteps. However, no matter how much I try, I cannot be half as active as she is. Sometimes to see her run around under the burden of responsibilities (burden to me) makes me tense. I just want to stop her and let her take a deep breath. The best thing about her is that her words are promising and so are the actions that proceed.

She’s someone who helps gladly and does so like it’s her job. I used to see her being tense about my research work, when she wasn’t initially part of the research group, and guiding me with utmost concern where or where not I asked for help. Her suggestions are convincing and her ideas are strong.

Then the help for my part in the farewell of our principal: I needed the music of the song I had to sing in the function. I was quite tense as I had no source to download it. One afternoon as I was heading towards the computer lab to try the download out, I saw R.a.k sitting in the stairs thumb-punching her QWERTY, a frown on her face. I asked her presence and she looked up and told me she was trying to download the instrumental of the farewell song. I seriously wanted to hug her then. ^_^

Lastly, our “white-wash refugee night” (the story I’ll relate soon) was made sleep-able only due to R.a.k’s leading quality. She always knows what to do. She knew it two nights back too. She organized us such that we could fit in easily and were also satisfied with our places. She is the reason we slept in the maximum peace possible that night.

She truly is a leader!

There you go R.a.k!! Happy Birthday!!! (whenever it is =D)

The Flute in Me

A hollow flute when plays inside my chest,

My heart sinks, but my soul wants to dance instead.

Lifted from peace to celebrate the sorrow;

Burning like fire, as it rises from its rest.

You will see it as light in my eyes,

But only if you look deep enough,

And only if you search at all

Will you find where it really hides.

The music never stops to play.

I close my eyes, listening to it night and day.

Whatever may interrupt I do not move.

The flute chains me up and burns me through.

Cuts me and wounds me with its waves.

My soul spins to the climax of the music it makes.

When it pauses, my heart stops and waits.

Ears pricked, I cannot rest till it drowns my hate.

The flute. Curls me up like I am safe.

Gives my soul that dancing grace.

Blesses my eyes with the gift of tears,

For peace is when I cry, not silently bear

The truth. The flute. Turning me to stone.

Not numb, my soul shuffles with pleasure.

Taking out the sorrow, only to be fed with more.

Won’t you retrieve me by what is inborn?

The flute. Was grown and nurtured so well,

Won’t it die in you and me. Can’t you tell?

I keep returning for we are one music torn apart.

It can’t stop. It will pause, but again will start.

The flute. Listen for it was always there,

For the music never stops to play.

Why can’t you see your soul slightly sway?

When death comes along, it will only dance away.

The music never stops to play.

I am blinded with what is love they say.

I hang on to every note, each wave I closely hear.

You and I will make that music together one day.