How can you begin a post that was supposed to be typed at least two months ago? Hmm, maybe I will pretend nothing happened.. This is all in a day’s post.
First of all, I am not entirely sure why I never posted here. It was less of studies and more of other ‘activities’ that engaged my attention. But now that I am home, all my readers need not worry. This will be an indepth peek (though censored) into my life @ B.
Secondly, enough stuff has happened to warrant quite a few blog posts. So, I will tackle each funny incident at a time.
Starting with these two:-
IIMB is being inundated by foreigners of every size, shape and colour (ranging from white to slightly pink, and green after having a bit of our mess food). Anyways, both these incidents occur at five am.
One morning, after a particularly fruitful night of ‘mugging’ for my Economics quiz, I wended my way from my friend’s room, (who’d fallen asleep halfway through Game Theory) to Athica’s, the neighbourhood Mallu 24 hours coffee shop.
Once there, I flashed my customary 100-Watt smile at the hapless guy at the counter and said, “Chetta, oru double coffee.”
Coffee in one hand and Pindyck & Rubenfield in the other (no, no DON’T laugh at the guy), I walked slowly back to K-block, where I live, when I saw a white Indica with yellow licence plates screech to a halt in front of the mess.
“Ah. Something’s afoot.” said I. “Five a.m. Most sane people outside IIMB are either sleeping or just waking up.”
I was so busy looking at the car, that I missed the occupant till he said, “Excuse me, I hope I am not disturbing you.”
“No, not at all. I like walking around the campus at 5 am with some coffee and a text book in hand, whistling…”
I snapped out of the sarcastic talk and grinned, “Nah. Hello.”
“Hey. Could you direct me to Room 048?”
“Sure. Which block?”
The poor fellow looked clueless. At five am, after 12 hours of flight and half a night worth jetlag, I really didn’t blame him.
“They didn’t say.”
“Must be the EB. Okay, I will show you to the place.”
Some 50 m into the walk, I stopped, turned and asked, “Uhm, so do you have the key?”
“Okay, wait here, I’ll go ask the guard.”
The guard was particularly helpful.
“Hostel office nau baje khulega memsahib.”
“Aur ham uska kya karenge?”
“Aap unhe apne room mein le jaa sakte hain?”
I looked confused. “Kuchch aur kar sakte hain?”
“EB mein main phone karoon?”
“Nahin, woh so rahe honge.”
“Madam. Yahaan pe log sote nahin!”
Of course, so stupid of me. So, the guard and I went to inform the hapless German that he was roomless for the time being. He took it pretty well.
“Maybe I can walk around…”
Eh? Like Asterix said, these Germans are crazy.
“Okay, you can come to my room, but you need to walk to K-top.”
The guy shrugged, as if to say, anything for a roof.
So, both of us walked till K-top and he dumped his luggage to go to (as he delicately put it) restroom.
I decided to pull off a Judas and asked a batchmate to lend a hand, or rather his room to the guy, let’s call him Michael for the time being :).
After some five minutes of explaining, the guy got it and offered his bed to the stranger, with himself being comfy on the bean bag.
Enter, tall, white, slightly bald Michael.
I blurted out, “Would you like to go and sleep?”
Ouch, THINK and speak, Shrutz.
The guy got it, however, “if you’re not sleeping, yeah I would like to. Or I’ll walk around.”
Uhm, what’s with this walking around business? Especially at 5 am?
My friend came to the rescue, and I went to sleep in peace.
Two hours later, I came to know that Michael had locked my batchie out of HIS room, and he got his walk after all, from 7 to 9 am, because he was summarily chucked out afterwards.
The second incident runs to different lines. I am doing things I have never done before. That includes both *cough* studying and dancing till the wee hours of the morning. So, during one L^2 party, after I had told a hyper French guy that my name was Suzanne, I was walking towards the stairs. Enroute, I saw J, a Mallu friend and asked him to come and have some coffee. The French chappie saw us and waved unsteadily. “Are you coming to the coffee bar?”
I nodded yes, while J shook his head. We spent some time disussing whether we needed coffee or not, while monsieur was getting sleepy.
Coming next to me, he bowed and said as gallantly as he could, under the circumstances, “Have a…”
His friend prompted him, “Nice.”
He continued, “Have a nice night.”
We smiled and I said, “Good night.”
He straightened out, walked away, turned, winked at me and whispered, “Don’t make too much noise.”
There was death silence for two minutes while J and I stared at his retreating back.
After which, “Uhm, he didn’t say ‘Don’t mate too much’, right?”
“NO. But it wasn’t too far away.”
“Uhm. Why did he say that?”
“I don’t want to think about it….”
“Remind me not to walk around with you again.”
“Ditto, my friend.”