I miss those walls. Sunkissed, yelled at, painted on and scribbled on, and beaten with and splattered with and used as leverage and scribble pads and poster frames and pictures of
How can I tell you what it is like to say goodbye to a room of sunshine and spills?
202 welcomed me (us) with open arms.
We have left with so much more love from the world, so much less uncertainity and a whole lot of very very good things.
202 has seen many happy people crammed in it for b'day parties and lonely sobs at 3 am phone call times. It has allowed us to spread a mattress on the floor for a troubled someone more and equally been efficient with newspaper on the floor during dhaba food parties.
We've spilt, at various times, ink and blood and tears and ketchup and juice and paneer and soup and gin and vodka and beer and water and we've just as carefully and knowingly mopped them up and moved on with life.
For over four years, we have run to its walls, its safe spots,its stuffed cupboards and its food stashes. ( and more importantly, its phone charging points)
We have lost keys and lost locks and broken down doors and bolts.
Beds have been shifted around. So have loyalties.
Much bad watery maggi has been cooked. much food-from-home has been gratefully eaten.
We have, in these four years, lived a life, which though not without its rather painful moments and times of distress, been a sort of experience we can only characterise as home.
202 was a godly room. Love and melodrama and learning and success. Lucky as hell for us we moved in where we did then.
I miss those walls. I miss the ugly mural and the eerie yellow lamp light and the window which let in only bugs, not air.
It _is_ the end of an era.
dont you know?
How can I tell you what it is like to say goodbye to a room of sunshine and spills?
202 welcomed me (us) with open arms.
We have left with so much more love from the world, so much less uncertainity and a whole lot of very very good things.
202 has seen many happy people crammed in it for b'day parties and lonely sobs at 3 am phone call times. It has allowed us to spread a mattress on the floor for a troubled someone more and equally been efficient with newspaper on the floor during dhaba food parties.
We've spilt, at various times, ink and blood and tears and ketchup and juice and paneer and soup and gin and vodka and beer and water and we've just as carefully and knowingly mopped them up and moved on with life.
For over four years, we have run to its walls, its safe spots,its stuffed cupboards and its food stashes. ( and more importantly, its phone charging points)
We have lost keys and lost locks and broken down doors and bolts.
Beds have been shifted around. So have loyalties.
Much bad watery maggi has been cooked. much food-from-home has been gratefully eaten.
We have, in these four years, lived a life, which though not without its rather painful moments and times of distress, been a sort of experience we can only characterise as home.
202 was a godly room. Love and melodrama and learning and success. Lucky as hell for us we moved in where we did then.
I miss those walls. I miss the ugly mural and the eerie yellow lamp light and the window which let in only bugs, not air.
It _is_ the end of an era.
dont you know?
3 comments:
Hmm..I thought you liked your 'new single room', 'the feeling of staying alone in a room' :)..What happened to all that?? You can still have all you had in your room or you could always throw your juniors out of their rooms to enjoy yourselves :)..We did that..
Well, don't worry you'll get used to it...
do u drink beer ?
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