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Scrap 4

Finally there was a day I ACTUALLY worked. For two whole days I stayed back in college to finish all my backlogs. It felt so good to be done with all your work, yet so tiring, that you dream of a body massage before sleeping. My irritation with Nuts hadn't stopped.She pretended like she didn't get it, but I bet she got it all.

Punk and I had a 'confession walk' that night, where we spoke of all the people we hated and all the people we loved. Of all the roomies that we dreamed of having the next year. Tanu joined in later and he was wondering whether he interrupted our conversation.
"I'll miss these walks.. And hostel.. And college.. During our Christmas hols." Punk said.
She really loves this place.. I thought. But things really were getting different. Better, or worse, I did not understand. And this place was getting close to 'home', just as much as I hated to admit it. I had spent just 2 months in M.I.T Institute of Design.

The stupid workers put my shelf from the table to the floor now. And again, to my displeasure, everything was chucked from my table to my bed again. My body was aching from work, and my mind was completely dismantled with stress. I was in no condition to clean it up. Yet there are those times, when you push yourself for some reason. Everyday was a mental stress tester, and it killed me to have it this way. But for once, I slept on my bed being proud of myself. Proud of the fact that I had got myself to work. Moreover, without anyone's help. Hopefully, things were getting better.

One of those tiring days, I went to look for some food in Punk's cupboard. It was far filthier than mine. Clothes poured out of the drawers the minute the cupboard was opened! I was so disgusted!
"EW!!! SICK DUDE YOU'RE SO DAMN HORRIBLY GROSS!!!" I yelled in horror.
"What?" she asked, without even turning her head to look at my face scowling in sheer disgust.
Punk's room was far filthier than mine. Her bed had layers of objects on it and her paints, pallets, brushes and assignments were all scattered over her shelf, which was now a dressing table. Somehow I shifted things on her bed and parked my ass in between.
"If you don't clean this by tomorrow morning then I'm getting a cold coffee in the canteen from you." I stated.
She exchanged an annoyed look and continued the conversation. It was beyond my understanding how she could live in that filth. I was graciously offered some sweet bakery biscuits by her. Yes, those too, were found with great difficulty for obvious reasons, and the conversations continued while we ate.

A few minutes later I was lying on my bed, writing my journal, when Punk came in and said, "Listen - I didn't clean it."
"Oh!" I laughed cynically. "I hope you've saved 20 bucks for my cold coffee." I said.
Punk's face dropped and she ran off to clean it, forgetting about our bed.
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Comments

Mamu said…
m.i.t. institute of design hmm. . . impressive . I can imagine the workload.
November 14, 2008 at 11:23 PM
Nikhita P. said…
Yeah..you have NO idea! :(
November 15, 2008 at 1:06 PM
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