This blog is the result of a funny conversation with a friend.
It is eight in the night. I am walking back to my hostel after some hair-oil-and-bread-crumbs shopping. I am poorly dressed and taking rescue in the anonymity of the dark night. The road is poorly lit. I think the dim tube lights separated by extra large spaces filled with bushes were specifically designed so for the merit of the large number of couples sitting on the road divider and doing whatsoever. I don’t care about what they do. Talk or further enhanced forms of romance. Whatever. All I care about is that they look up to me and wait for me to walk by them impatiently to resume the activity they were busily engrossed in. And unfortunately, there is an old couple walking in front of me. The old man has been a professor in my first year and they walk as though the road is one in the back yard of their bungalow at a pace which is extraordinarily slow. They fill the space between them with an aura of silence which makes the sound of my heels awkwardly loud.
Life on a small campus with little number of girls can be painful. This evidence is little, trust me!