I am called the
“Idiot Box”. Yes, you are getting it right! I am the one who stares back at you
every time you gawk at my screen with your eyeballs popping out of your
sockets. And guess what? You don’t even know it!
Every day I hang
along the first wall to the left of the common area of the ACJ Girls hostel,
watching the time fly and lives change; as I’m being gawked at by a bunch of
rich, spoilt self proclaimed “adults”; all different in various kinds of ways,
but having one, only one thing in common. Their current lives which revolved
around the college, around the hostel; around all its perks and its limitations.
I’m the box of
entertainment, I am the visual media. Why would I be in search of
entertainment?
Because where I’m hanged, I really appreciate
these kids around me better than when their vacations come, or at the end of
the term! That is the worst one! I can almost crack to death with weird
reflections on my LED screen some nights. Not trying to scare you. Just saying!
Coming back to the
point, it’s baffling to see so many hearts and souls come together, trying to
get to know and understand each other, be there for each other in times of need
and trying to find peace in a chaos. This chaos is also self induced in certain
cases! It’s true! Hilarious!
Certain days are
special, certain moments are made forever. Those days are my favorite.
Birthdays, kitty parties…cocktail parties! This is the story of one fine day.
It was a Wednesday. It’s the day the ladies in the hostel go out! Because
it’s... Ladies night! Anyway,
it’s not much big of a deal, as all these women, you can also call them fighters
of the societal construct; HAVE TO make it a point to return to the hostel by
ten. There are women conglomerates being formed to ensure the safe retrieval of
every shooter in the battlefield to the base camp before curfew time. I was
patiently waiting for these girls to come shrieking, screaming, laughing and
giggling up the stairs, too drunk to walk but pumped up enough for another
after-party. And believe me when I say this, they make it to the hostel on
time!
My first expected
visitor at this time was Pia, and there she was. She always carried a lot of
things in her hands. More than she could actually carry. Every day, she sat
near the window and started playing her music, while drinking her Cola or
Coffee. Often Lolita, the chic with the accent used to join her and they used
to chat or rap or watch movies together. Today Lolita is video-calling someone
and walks in the room drunk, dressed up and all red. She saw Pia, waved at her
and sat beside her. They start talking about the club, about being groped,
about it being hard to be a woman. They also talked about exes, about sex,
about various kinds of topics emerging out of random, drunk thoughts.
One hour later,
someone speaks from the phone and says “I like what I’m hearing Lolita. It’s
good to have conversations like these.” All this while, her dad was on the line.
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