College, The journey.

Since I’ve spent exactly 24 hours in my PG room (since my awesome-mest college doesn’t have hostels) 
I’ve realised I look forward to just a certain things in the day.

Least of all is waking up. After an all nighter (of Facebook, or for the rest; reading books or s-t-u-d-i-e-s), waking up is a herculean task. The alarm goes off *TeeTeeTeeTeeeee* and we
 squint open one eye ‘somehow’ to see what time it is, only to calculate how long we’ve ‘
slept so that we can judge IF college is worth giving up on sleep. 

And trust me, nothing beats going back to sleep after the one-eyed-squint when it’s a Sunday. NOTHING. 
That arm goes up slo-oooo-wly and shuts off the alarm: Bliss. ๐Ÿ˜€

The one part I personally look forward to is dressing up. Believe you me, it aint easy to be appropriately dressed for *this* college. Ever. If you doll up too much, you’re a blonde or worse, a slut. If you go de-glam for days at end, you’re labelled as Not bothered or 
Nerdy or some other god forsaken thing.
It’s gotta be a delicate balance of lip gloss and just a tad of hair tugged out (or in); and the last thing to do is look at yourself in the mirror, if you have any that is, and say- 
Whatever I wear, I look good. 
Clothes don’t make you girl, you make the clothes.

So, after waking up, you bathe (another thing i hate doing at times, another battle to be won within the stipulated time- it takes TOO much time), then dress up. 
Gosh, the uniform’s waAAy better. At times, only though.

So, bath-check, dress/ attire- check.
Next up- The humiliation or Confidence to walk down the classroom corridors and aisles as teachers, seniors, staff, sub staff, batch-mates stare. Much less stare, almost ogle. 
Looking up, then down and then at your torso; as if to judge if you actually originate from the very same solar system, let alone this planet. 
Hair, nails, flab, shoes… My god. 
And they say ‘Ragging is prohibited’?

Here, I should mention, I probably am the only one in my college who wears tees and jeans at a regular basis. Medical being medical and Burdwan being, oh well, what it is,
 I am *not allowed to wear jeans till me Freshers* ๐Ÿ˜
So, I have to be almost aunty-like a suave, possibly hot aunty, and go to college…walk down to college, which itself is 5 whole freakin’ minutes away from where i stay. So I go ‘Toink toink’ in my Salwar Kameez and Keetos (Puma) and sit glumly in the *second* bench.

No, I don’t mind being one of the first few. FYI, profs don’t question the ones who sit in front. In hindsight, the front benchers only remain ‘smart’ till the backbenchers don’t start  questioning ๐Ÿ˜›

So, second bench under my arms, I look around to see if even ONE person was worth befriending. Yes, I was a little snooty initially cuz I had this whole I-am-from-Kolkata-so-they-wont-mix-with-me attitude. But hell, no. Everyone likes me now! 
The girls, cuz i smile a lot, talk a lot and because they can laugh at me when I don’t understand tough difficult Bengali words  (Tarun, Binoy– they’re more names than words!).
And cuz I introduce them to guys (mainly, the latter is responsible for them being with me)

And the guys, well, obvious reasons. [I flatter myself]
Here, I must mention, I have been exposed to some really weird, but really cute methods of flirting. I never knew corny lines existed in real life as well!

Yes, I was, at first the only girl who spoke to everyone, no inhibitions. EVERYONE.

And then I was assigned my Roll number for the next FIVE yrs of my life.

*Drum roll*

Guess what? 

I am Roll no. 1. :/
God? Do you even exist? 

Don’t you know how mortifying-ly difficult it is for a Roll no. ONE to get a proxy?

No one-understands-me, 
::Stomps foot and runs away::

Oh, and classes begin.
Attendance taken, embarrassment hidden, I painstakingly take down meticulous notes. Always the same, I treat the demon head on, only to come out hungry, dizzy and did i say hungry?

Next up, Lunch time. The one happy moment during school, oops, college hours.
The glorious, oily food never seems tastier. The water-cum-dal, the sabji with more chillies than chilly itself, the pickles, the rice– one word: Yummy.
Though not really. I have to run to shit most of the times as soon as I reach home cuz the chillies burn right through my G.I Tract.
(Aah, yes, I luurve using big scinetific terms which few people understand)

After lunch, is the Adda session where, while waiting for our profs (who are always ‘just’ late), we catch up, flirt, wink, laugh, scold, share notes (rarely), flirt again, exchange numbers and memorise the 99 new names we’re thrown into! 
But it’s fun, and totally worth it.

Did I mention I have to wake up at 6am to take a BUS from Esplanade to reach Burdwan on time? Six. I mean, SIX?! And then the bus-walla keeps honking the horn as
 if it was made solely to please his half-deaf ears. 
I cant even sleep there *sniff sniff*

Okay, so after lunch, the class is basically meant for sleeping, thanks to the above mentioned, healthy routine of waking up early. But, NO. I am meticulous. 
And a second-bencher. I-just-cant-sleep-off. :/
I contradict myself too much, na?

Drowsy yet alive, I escape the shackles of the classroom and rush for fresh air. 
Instead, I am dragged into the dissection hall with 4 dead bodies, 
or Cadavers, lying face up, stinking. 
Aaaaa.
Dissection is THE most gruesome part of 1st year med. 
And THE most amazing part as well.

*toing* 
I see a boy faint as the teacher starts explaining “The Scapula is divided into two by the…..”
This is pretty regular by now. And mind you, more guys faint. Girls are strong ๐Ÿ˜€

10am to 4pm. Classes done; we all (100 students) walk down to our respective accommodations. Home Sweet Home.

One thing is, while living alone, you learn how to live dirty– 
with dhool mail and cockroaches.

I only return home to hog some more on food (Mom-made cakes!) 
and rush out to buy milk and bread.

Then it hit me: Mom used to do this for me, she used to do that for me. 
And i break down-crying. This is normal right.. Or is it retarded to cry?

I sulk back into my bed, complete with pillows and a bolster, again, arranged for by Mamma. ๐Ÿ˜ฆ
*i miss her i miss her i miss her and dad as well*

I get a hold of myself. Call up Nidhi, talk it out- without letting her know that I’m upset. 
Mission Accomplished. 
I already feel better. I eat some more Cakes and drift off to sleep.

***
Wake up. 
Study-Anatomy of the Dental Enamel. 
Eat dinner (yay! more oily glory but this time with chana and chilly *smack*)

Go Facebook some more.

Goodnight people. I have a busy day to repeat tomorrow. So much to learn, to fight about, to talk through, to like, dislike, flirt, memorise names..

College is unique.
No wonder they say- School is home. Outside it’s a big bad beautiful world.
๐Ÿ˜€
“Listen, it’s Dr. Sweta”
Advertisements

2 thoughts on “College, The journey.

  1. almost d same story here….why is it dat we actually realise how much we love a person only wen we r away 4m dem???btw….brilliantly written….actually need i say dat???

  2. Uh, how's the love related to this post Bum?But then, true. We realise it cuz we start noticing them. For more, refer: Stars or just a single moon wala note of mine. :)Thanks re. your comments ARE valued.And i wrote this when i was totally frustrated. :/

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s