After a very long time, there is a class in college that stumps me completely. I have never been able to make peace with not understanding what is taught in class, this takes it to a whole new dimension. Combine that with a spectacular lack of motivation and what you have is a major problem in your hands.
Moving into the hostel has been...I don't know...not the most comfortable of experiences. I do not like my room or my flat and the prospect of new people moving in soon. I also don't like how musty the kitchen/store smells and I can't bring myself to touch anything without analyzing it for unwanted substances. Still cannot get over the fact that this house used to be inhabited by men before we moved in. Call it prejudice or just pure sense.
On the bright side, I have started to develop a soft spot for my (accidental) roommate. She is possibly the most innocent, harmless person I have met in my life. This obviously makes her a butt of many bitchy jibes within the hostel (not surprising, coming from girls. Women have an ingrained knack of disregarding any positives and going for the kill anyway). I like how we have found a way to adjust to living in such close quarters and yet giving each other all the space we could ask for.
And of course, the one constant that makes everything worthwhile...the Delhiite, after six months, remains a source of unending companionship and familiarity. It fascinates me how every passing day is so full of promise. And how we manage to make memories when we least intend to.
All in all, a pointless post. But its left me feeling better than what I felt before writing it.
More later
M
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