Just how fast the night changes

We’re only getting older, baby
and I have been thinking about it lately
Does it ever drive you crazy
Just how fast the night changes?
;

- One Direction

After spending ten days in quarantine, I walk towards room no. A-010. It's been a year, Aur Dil Dhak-Dhak Kar Rha Hai. I open the door, and a stream of rotten-stinky-rusty air comes out. The clothes that I had left hanging a year ago are still hanging, and my bed wrapped in a red-black bedsheet is no more.

The above paragraph was written on a lovely March Friday afternoon during my short stay on the campus. My legs spread across the first-floor balcony grills and winds blowing and the sun setting. From the balcony, I could see Preeti (my cycle), Director Sir with some guests, and few couples having afternoon walks.

The second wave of Corona hit, and I had to get back. And here I am, finishing this unfinished mess of words at 1:39 am, with a bunch of dogs barking outside and my mum snoring in the other room.

Fourteen Lock-Downed months have passed. Calenders changed. Haircuts changed. Some of us got fat, and some got thin, and our country still fights the virus. Let us just hope for good. While we are busy untangling messy red strings of life, time slowly but steadily slips. Leaving behind a few knots of grey memories. I still remember the 2:00 am scenes in my room. The Coder trying to sort bugs out. He is sleepy. His laptop is sleepy. His algorithms are sleepy. But fixing bugs is a must. The Hyderabadi Rockstar has just woken up and has to attend an important call. It’s important. Very-very important. It is 'a' Girlfriend. The Branch Changer is watching football with a Free Creature that does not belong to the room. The Free Creature is the only piece on Earth and Mars, and it would take a Research Paper to discuss him.

I am not certain about what is to happen and when we are to meet. But what I am certain about is that one more year, and our batch will be out. Chasing the unknown. Hunting the uncertain. I saw fourth year seniors saying their goodbyes to the college and friends. They were leaving never to sit in those classrooms, never to curse the mess food, never to break their bones on IIT-T playground, never to dance on Munni Badnaam Hui in the hostel corridors. It hit me how my goodbyes to the college and friends would look like. Or worse, what if I never get to say those goodbyes? What if they have to give degrees through mail and convocation through Zoom? Huh?

Anyway, if we don’t meet now, we can meet after ten years with hanging bellies and bald heads. A few having a bunch of one-year-olds to shoosh. A few managers driving their S-classes gently through the college gate. A few musicians and dancers with long hair and dragon tattoos. Maybe, a writer or two with a long-light-blue kurta and a duffle bag. Lastly, some photographers for capturing that chaotic and beautiful mess.

Enough of dreaming. Come back to reality. Really getting sleepy now. Gotta call it off. See you around if the campus reopens. If you have any suggestions or wanna rant about Corona or about your Love in the Time Of Corona, I would love to hear. Maybe make a canvas out of it and paint it with some fictitious characters. Maybe?

P.S: When we get back to campus, and if anyone finds a bed wrapped in a red-black bedsheet, that is mine. Please return it.