Reshma Emmatty,Cupboard at the end of the hall, Marian Ville

‘ee ucha nerathu vannu ingane bell adikkunnathu sheriyano? Ningalkku ithu veruthey kuthiyal mathi . Hmph!’ (Translation: Do you think it's okay to come in and ring the door bell at noon ,like this? All you think is of your need. Hmph!)

A short grumpy looking lady in a white and blue print saree came out of the door leading into the hostel corridor. Me, Dad, Mom, Kuttan and Dad’s friend Unnis was taken aback.

We were in Bangalore, hostel hunting for my summer internship there. The hostel Unnis uncle had searched was called Brigittine hostel, where the lights go out at 10, and which had 4 seater rooms. And u had 2 be in by 7 coz supper is at 7:30. And if u are late u have to tell the nuns here why. And where. And with whom. And all the other answers too.

No way I was gonna stay there. So I went to Brigittine’s and found more reasons for not staying there.

‘Appa, there’s no plug point there.’

‘So?’

‘So? How do I do work if I have to use my laptop? How do I charge my mobile?’

Unnis uncle: ‘it’s just for six weeks, child, don’t worry.’

Yeah. And I’m gonna be living here. I had lots of things to do here and that needed a longer curfew. For starters, I’d told Jo that we’d go to pubs and stuff so 7 pm and work wouldn’t work.

So after showing me the room, Sr Francesca asked my parents if I would be moving in right then.

‘Yes Sister. Rajetta, pay the fees.’ That was mom.

My face was ….i dunno, the nun herself knew something was wrong and asked me

‘I think you don’t like it here. Try Marian Ville. It’s nearby. In museum road’

And so we came to Marian Ville and rang the bell. And out came the lady in the permanent grumpy mood.

She walked pompously to the office room and we followed her. We were expecting the nun to come and occupy the seat in the office when she sat there. Okay. So she is the nun. Why is she in a printed saree?

‘Sister, we need a room….’said dad.

‘Yes. We have rooms here. So?’

‘She is here for doing her summer internship…at MG road. This is the closest hostel….’

‘Do you have single rooms?’ I interrupted the tense conversation.

‘No.’ came the angry reply.

Back to dad. You take care of this one!

‘When do you want to move in?’

“Tomorrow?’ in a soft pleading voice, my dad asked.

‘3800 for the room. It’s a double room, but no one else is there. So she’ll be alone.’

Yay!

‘Does it have a plug point?’ I had to know that.

‘Yes’

‘Can I see the room please?’

‘Yeah, when u come tomorrow’

Um…I need to see the place I’d stay for the next six weeks, lady!

‘But sister, could we see the room now?’ asked mom meekly

‘You people treat your kids like some treasure of sorts. It’s just of one and a half months right? You can see the room tomorrow when you move in.’

With a chorus of ‘please sister’ she got up from the chair. And we wondered if it was for showing us out or showing the room.

‘Aren’t you coming?’ she snarled at me as she walked into the hostel corridor. My mom and I stepped forward.

‘Only the girl can come. No mother and all.’

Okay. Was she going to shout at me alone inside?

We walked into a narrow corridor which was completely dark. Not a bit of sunlight from anywhere.

She opened the door to a big closet, sorry, small room. Two beds, tables, cupboards all crammed into a small place that there’s no place to move around. And no windows. I sincerely hoped that the tube light worked or my eyesight would diminish considerably in these six weeks.

She had said it would be bath attached but I couldn’t find any in this box.

‘It’s not bath attached, ‘she said with an evil grin. It's over there. ‘4 cubicles in the end of the corridor.

Oh, and another for right next to them.

‘So eight loos, right?’

‘Do you require more than one?’

No comments.

Well, that was the end of the tour.

And I was in a dilemma.

Hostel #1, seemingly nice sister. #2, the lady think s i’m the little girl who threw a stone ay her 10 years back on whom she’d love to take her revenge.

Hostel one, rules and more rules. Hostel 2, no big rules

Well, after weighing them over and over again, I chose Marian Ville. That’s right, the one with the wicked witch of the west.

But I have the big closet for myself. I pray every day that no one else would come in to join. There are TWO plug points for me to use. I can come in by 8:30.

Life is not so bad. The nun only bothers you if you chanced to meet her. Which happened the next morning when I came out to put my washed clothes on the lines. There were two big washing stones for us girls outside, which I didn’t dream of using. I’d managed it in my lazy way with wheel and water.

‘Where you washing?’ came an angry shout (Where did you wash was what she intended to say). Yep. It was sister…gosh! I don’t even know her name. And I don’t think I want to.

‘That sister…in the loo, with my bucket n stuff….’

She gave an angry glare, but I gave a sweet smile and rushed putting all the clothes and left.

I might have got into trouble with her for another thing a few days later- there was a ritual to be followed in the hostel- you had to sign your attendance every night after dinner. I used to gladly go to eat dinner (and come back sadly hoping there’s more of those bourbon biscuits in my room) but had never signed for some 3-4 days.

But thankfully, I that night it was an old sister who was taking attendance that night. She was nothing like the grumpy one. She smiled sweetly and marked me present even for a couple of days before I joined there.

Anyways, life there is pretty cool. My own big closet, messy, like my room. My hard disk with my kind of movies- and that hard disk helped me make friends coz I discovered that there are more ppl like me who love Disney and fairy tale like movies. Unlike my hostel stays before, I’m having a lot of fun- glad to have fellow mallus Deepa and Lakshmi as the occupants of the closet next to mine.

Well….I’m having a nice cozy time in my new cribJ

What i want

Please don't go.............

:( :)

a group of friends

class time fun

teases and laughs

'intersting pen'

friendship pacts

signed and torn

comes a new year

comes new surprises

silence and no chatter

a quest to know why

a piece of paper

alphanumerals scattered

'it's not from,me,but him'

says the messesnger

alone inside my room

upon my study table

time,time again

i try to make sense

one new method tried

and it all fell to places

'***** ***** ******'

a lump inside my throat

butterflies inside my tummy

what do i do now?

what shall i say now?

pretended i didnt know

pretended i didnt care

until that fateful day

my friends tried to say

then i had to say

that i knew it too

but right now i dont want

all this silly stuff

let us both be friends

let us both grow up

let us stand on our own legs

and let us then decide

it took a lot of coaxing

to get him to talk to me

but then with time

the best of help

we grew to be good friends

and then to best of friends

and then,my best(est) friend

inaugerating pens

letters in old notebooks

words written in blood

poems and quotations.

walks to tuition class

waits till i go back

drenched in the rain

feelings unspoken

fights in between

always solved by friends

trys to move apart

but always comes together

when new people came

when new loves blossomed

the old 'friendship' couldnt resist

to see it silently

denied being jealous,

but jealousy was all

untill i had to go and say

i felt the same too.

but time cahnges people

time changes things

my bird was not the same

i'll never get the same

together the journey went on

with rough moments now and then

passions grew stronger

they expressed

egos too, may be

and they too.

the next separation was

for me the worst by far.

no one can get it

not even him

and so the distance's far

tried to be close still

but somehow didnt work

had to part our ways

a year of solid silence

talks are now not real

and when real ,not right

lives have twisted,tangled

lets not get them mangled

memories just come

when we least expect

a song,a sight,a note

is all that it takes

Penning down thoughts

'Get a life' said my friend as he hung up the phone.

Life?Would you mind telling me where you are taking me?

Around this time,four years back,and all through out the three darkest,lowest years of my life,i was sad. but i had a wish,a dream a hope. Though i lost manythings,many people and that someone special, i still had something that kept me strong,something that made me work hard and 'achieve my dream'.

It involved me. Just me. I didn't need anybody else. Lej is right-'don't trust anybody'.I was glad that i was going away. I was going farther and probably higher than most of my friends. And as i was going,i found someone else.

Did i want all of that again? Well, i had thought i didn't but it looks like i did. Yes.I wanted love.

Now i'm here,right where i wanted,doing what i wanted, but am i making the most of it? May be dad's right. I'm just looking for excuses not to do things. While in hell i said i wouldnt send anything i write to get published coz i didnt want that place's name 2 be attached to me in anyway. Now i'm here and i don't have TIME?

What do i think of the most part of my day? What do i wish for and hope for these days? Why am i not doing all those things i should be doing?

Everyday i go for my walk .I feel the breeze kissing my face,caressing my hair.Everything around me looks green,yellow,brown,orange,pink and red.All vibrant and looking at me lovingly. Ilook up at the sky and get amazed each day by the colours, patterns and the majesty. I hear the music i like and i feel good. And i get pregnant with ideas and thoughts and an urge to get them all out in paper,in words,in a cam, in colours...

But they never see the world. It's like i'm too weak to let them out.

Ranting in here helps.Coz i know that this is just my digital diary and not a blog.And writing here helps.

I'm not writing in my old diaries which i had to burn. I'm not writing in those later versions with the locks. I'm not writing in that one last one where i wrote with inkless pen on a 'used' sheet again and again and again. This is my space, for me. Just me.

Now

I wanted to write about love today. I don't know wat everyone else thinks about it. For me it is a special feeling,way about everything else. I wanted to write about how happy it makes you,to make someone else happy, how special it feels , to know that there is someone who cares a lot about you,and you feel the same about that person,how good you'd feel to have someone to whom you can talk any crazy thing that comes into your mind coz that person loves you for what you are...about how it can make you do things you'll never even dream of doing.

It is a funny feeling.It can make you change the way you do things, your liking for certain things...But right now what i can write is ,it hurts. It hurts when you just want to scream to the world about how happy you are about your love and its not a mutual feeling. It hurts when you want to tell him how happy the last time 2gether was when he does not say a word. It hurts when you just look at the chatbox and the phone to blink,but it doesnt.

It's a sad,scary,loneley feeling then.

Miaw

'Miaw....Meeeeeeeeeeyaw....'

The poor little kitty is lost, wandering in the girls' hostel searching for its mom and siblings.And i know realize that i love cats more than dogs.I love animals. And birds.Mostly anything that does not have eight legs. And i have a cat and a dog back home.I always thought i loved them the same but ,no.The furry 'purr' ball is my favorite.

I've had cats,kittens as far as i can remember. There was an old 'kadan' whon we called just that.Then came Bubbloo with his total milky white hair and blue eyes.Sundari was my lil baby.If my brother hadn't whacked on her head with that stick, she'd have stayed on for longer...I so hated him then. Katmandu and Tinker Bells came together. They were siblings. So Katmandu was my stupid brother's and Tinku was mine. Katmandu's original name was Kadamani. Katmandu was just a western sounding nick name. He was such a biiiiig cat. Cute. But not pretty as my lean Tinku.

Tinku and i used to have such a nice time together. Back then, I had this craze of growing a watermelon garden in a couple of little pots.Yes, the seeds would sprout,a little sapling would grow,the brown tip with the seed would go and it'll be green, it'll open up, tiny leaves would come,and thats it. End of another generation of saplings. But i'd 'sow' more.

Tinku used to be my companion when i tended to my 'watermelon farm'.She would come with me, lie down in the sunny patches, and scrath stuff. A funny thing about Tinku was that she licked me! She wasn't a dog! And i could really play with her. I'd prop her up the ledge near our well and poke on her paw. And she'd try to poke me back on my hand. And no, she never took those claws out while we played.

My stupid neighbours kept poisoned meat to kill the dogs which were eating their chicken but Tinku ate it. And she was gone.

Next was Binku. Binker Tells. His tail was as thin as a rat's. Usually , all our cats traditionally have thick, fluffy tails. His tail was thin and it was as if he had a joint in the tail. He could make it appear broken. He cared for that old female cat a lot....she used to come around our house, poor lone thing and our Binku would keep her company. Played with her, didnt mind her skin disease....the poor old cat was devoted to him i guess. It was sad to see her come and mew for him after he was gone.

Now we have Chinku. He was the only one who dared to come outside the paper bundles in my dad's shed .And for that, he is alive. well, not just alive.He eats 2 fish in the morning. Even if we get no fish 2 eat, he gets it every day. And after the fish he needs a big bowl of milk. After filling his big tummy with the fish(he leaves the bones and d head. Such a cultured cat...),he goes to the woodden swing in the living room. And sleeps on it.

He was having a royal life here when he started having this interest in the female cats in the vicinity. The number of kittens here started increasing.And so did his fights with the other tom cats. Now everyday he comes home with a new scar or without a patch of fur on his skin. Idiot.He likes to go for walks for a few days. But he'll be back right in time for food.

He has a new friend to play with now. Minju. Rukmini chechi calls her( we just found out she was a he but i'll call her minju.) Manikutty.She's a cute little thing. Always playful, always moving about. She's grown longer than the last time i saw her.My little minju.

Now as i hear the mews of the kitten in the hostel i miss her. I miss stroking my cats on their forehead. Sneaking them on to the bed.Seeing them sleep so innocently on me keeping the 'purr' motor on....And i now know that i love cats better.

An apology

I wore a mask while i was with you

I was rude, selfish, in my shell.

I never let you near 'real' me.

I dampened your joyful spirits.

I pretended your inexistance.

I made up stories,miserable.

Never a word about your love

that put smiles even in Hell.

Lonliness was a choice- mine.

And i blamed it on all but me.

I was there,in your midst

just to put you guys off.

An apology here makes no change,

i know but still i say:

'I'm sorry for all that i did

and more for all i didn't'