So, I haven't really slept in two days because I had a term paper and a few tests coming up. I got through all of them with lots and lots and lots of tea (thank you, tea god and the chai wala whose shop is just opposite where I live).
Anyway, so, in the morning, I was in college, typing out an answer to be submitted in two hours. I was sitting along a ledge, and there were people milling all around me, singing Atif Ali songs and saying random stuff. And in the midst of such hustle, I was there with my cup of tea, brought to me by my minion, S (thank you, S!), talking about Paris and polyglossia when I realised that I could get used to this.
After almost one-and-a-half years of feeling stifled here, I realise that I could get used to staying like this, typing away on the floor, surrounded by people who talk in a language I don't understand. And then I realise that I'm going to miss this when I leave in another semester.
Maybe I'll come back for convocation, after all
Anyway, so, in the morning, I was in college, typing out an answer to be submitted in two hours. I was sitting along a ledge, and there were people milling all around me, singing Atif Ali songs and saying random stuff. And in the midst of such hustle, I was there with my cup of tea, brought to me by my minion, S (thank you, S!), talking about Paris and polyglossia when I realised that I could get used to this.
After almost one-and-a-half years of feeling stifled here, I realise that I could get used to staying like this, typing away on the floor, surrounded by people who talk in a language I don't understand. And then I realise that I'm going to miss this when I leave in another semester.
Maybe I'll come back for convocation, after all
Is this in Paris?
ReplyDeleteNo, this incident took place in India but I was writing about a poem by Hope Mirlees called "Paris".
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