Friday, February 22, 2008

He Who Forgets Things In Room, Gets Late For Class

As yellow shafts of sunlight shone down on his eyes, for the second continuous hour since dawn, he woke. He woke gently, for he was a gentle and peaceful person. He woke with a great deal of muscle-pulling and stretching and lots of loud yawning, for his was a theatrical soul. He jumped up off his bed suddenly and sprinted the 8 feet to the bathroom, for his was a sharp mind that had just surmised, from a mere glance at the clock, that class would begin in 20 minutes.

Rushing through the processes of brushing his teeth and washing his face simultaneously (it would be wise to not ask how he managed this, if we are of the puritan school of thought that believes in the companionship of sanity and sanitation), he dived into a t-shirt hanging off the chair and 'dropkicked' into the jeans of yesterday. Grabbing his bag and keys, he rushed out of the room.

Nearly. Before he could leave, he checked himself up in the mirror. Hmm...Nose, ears, eyes, hair, chin and cheeks. Check, check, check, check, check and check. All the essentials appearing to be in order, he proceeded with the mad rush to class. Damn! Its Machine Drawing! That meant the drafter and the blank drawing sheet. He rushed back in to retrieve them, returning as a whirlwing barely 5 seconds after he'd left as a whirlwind. His bemused room-mate went about plodding through his own activities. His world was a parallel universe. He chose when to drop by and attend, not once letting his mind ponder over regulations such as minimum attendance requirement.

He bolted out again. And bolted back in another 4 seconds later. He'd forgotten to use the deodorant. Ooh and now that he was here, he saw he hadn't even taken his pencils. Phew!

He ran out and sprinted down the stairs, taking them two at a time on the descend and jumping off the last three to land with a grand flourish and a bow for his imaginary raucously cheering spectators. The hostel caretaker looked at him with eyebrows raised, as he speed-walked past him, past his gate of his jurisdiction and into the beautiful sunshine outside, where clouds meandered as fluffs of cotton against a little blue canvas of sky, and the birds twittered and man was free.

He came back in half a minute later. The textbook, the textbook! He sprinted up the stairs, taking them two at a time and finally landing with a flourish but no bow. There's so little time! He knocked three times on the door, responding to his room-mate's raised eyebrow with a grin and shrug, both regular but slightly hurried. Where is the book? There! Got it.

Again, he ran out. Took the stairs two at a time, and landed with a flourish and bow. He was finally ready to leave na. The caretaker didnt look up this time. Engineering students! Everyone seemed to have screws loose.

Class had begun. Everyone already bent over drawing sheets, reproducing and assembling pieces of this and that to form something they didnt know, which did something they did not care about knowing. He fit right in.

1 comment:

kyra said...

Personally, i think this is the best thing you've written in a long time.
maybe it's because of the use of third person.
or the sheer simplicty of the content.
or the innocence-like quality one rarely finds in your posts. :P