Monday, April 21, 2014

R is for Room no 113

Room no 113: yes that was my room in my hostel for all 3 years that I stayed there. It was a typical girl's hostel. A "khadoos" looking warden, bechara and trying-to-look-strict type chowkidaar.
Once inside the hostel, rooms all around a central verandah, music playing in the rooms, girl's laughing and shouting in other and cooker whistling in yet another room. And girl's lingerie hanging outside on the strings tied outside each room.

And my room was on the second floor at the end of the corridor, facing the open terrace. It was also next to the common bathroom shared by 4 other rooms in the corridor. Open terrace and shared bathroom made sure I had no shortage of traffic around my room, even at midnight.

Initially, I felt stranger in my room and it seemed no less than a relative's place where I was never at ease. But then, slowly the room started to accept me and I started to find comfort in the my room. I could not wait to get back to my room at the end of the day. I even decorated it like my home. Loved my little music player with tons of audio cassettes stacked near it. Loved the little window which opened to the road that went behind the hostel. And could always spot one or more boys from the university trying to take a peek inside the room in a girl's hostel.

Whenever there was a visitor for one of the girls, the watchman used to give a call for that room from the corridors downstairs. So as soon as the visiting hours would start, girl's would anxiously wait for their room number to be called. And even though I knew I had no one who come to meet me after college, I still listened to those calls eagerly.

Ans then one day, while we were having evening tea and snacks in the dining room, I heard "Room number ek sau Terah(room number 113)". At first I ignored it thinking I was just imagining things, but then he called again and it was indeed my room he was calling. And I ran. Not to answer the call but to wash my face and change clothes. Because whoever it was, I could not just run out like that.
And when I went outside to see who it was, it was one of my seniors and one of my best friends, grinning all over and blushing.
Surprised I asked what he was doing here.
And his response:"poore teen saal me in ek baar bhi girl's hostel mein ladki ko call nahin lagayee. Aise kaise degree le leta. Socha tumse to yeh liberty let sakta hoon"
And we stood there talking endlessly for hours.

These and so many more memories I still have so vivid of my room
Room no 113.

2 comments:

M.C.V. Egan said...

I looked up Khadoos... is it India? But the Language was like Dutch? Fun post #AtoZchallenge ☮Peace ☮ ღ ONE ℒℴνℯ ღ ☼ Light ☼ visiting from
http://4covert2overt.blogspot.com/
4covert2overt ~ A Day in the Spotlight

As I write said...

Yes, you are right. That is Indian and it means nasty. Thanks for stopping by and commenting.