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Room no 327
After a lot of conversation and arguments with their fathers,
They chose that room so that no one would bother.
The room number was three twenty seven
Even in the bleak winter of January it was like a hot air oven.
It was a room situated behind a cheap teakwood door,
But it was the brightest room on the floor.
The sun was one of their roommate who went to sleep in their beds
And woke them up in the morning from underneath the curtains behind their heads.
Anyone from a distance of a kilometre, could clearly see inside,
So they had no other option while changing clothes other than to run and hide.
There were three doctors who stayed in that room
One was an studious workaholic
The other one had a perfect work life balance
The third one just wiled away his time writing things like these.
To all the day scholars and hostellers the room was the bridge
Because It had two AC’s, an induction stove and a fridge.
There were three cots, one of them was far away from the AC
But every one desired it because it was the most cozy.
The room had a portable washing machine,
The one that would fit into any bucket.
The one that was like the hip of an 18 year old girl
That electrocuted anyone who touched it.
The cupboards were filled with a handwash,
A Glove box, prescriptions and more importantly a pen stash,
All stolen from the hospital’s closet
And sometimes even from a consultant’s pocket.
By the end of the fall, the room had become a food stall,
A movie theatre, a playground and a party hall
And whoever entered should follow the protocol,
That in the room nobody should smoke or consume alcohol.
One of them was a good cook, the other one just dabbled,
The third one just ate.
The staple foods were Maggi and Dosa,
Their evening snacks would definitely contain an aloo samosa.
It was December, the season of bittersweetness
They completed the course and so they had to vacate.
Their eyes knew what to do when they passed their hospital gate.
They cried their tears of joy, sorrow, pain, pleasure all at the same time.
It has been a year since they left the room but the room has never left them.
It is a remnant of who they were,
A fragment of who they are,
A determinant of who they would become.
follow @Karayum_varigal on Instagram.
#WritcoQuote #writco #writcoapp #love #nostalgia #friendship
They chose that room so that no one would bother.
The room number was three twenty seven
Even in the bleak winter of January it was like a hot air oven.
It was a room situated behind a cheap teakwood door,
But it was the brightest room on the floor.
The sun was one of their roommate who went to sleep in their beds
And woke them up in the morning from underneath the curtains behind their heads.
Anyone from a distance of a kilometre, could clearly see inside,
So they had no other option while changing clothes other than to run and hide.
There were three doctors who stayed in that room
One was an studious workaholic
The other one had a perfect work life balance
The third one just wiled away his time writing things like these.
To all the day scholars and hostellers the room was the bridge
Because It had two AC’s, an induction stove and a fridge.
There were three cots, one of them was far away from the AC
But every one desired it because it was the most cozy.
The room had a portable washing machine,
The one that would fit into any bucket.
The one that was like the hip of an 18 year old girl
That electrocuted anyone who touched it.
The cupboards were filled with a handwash,
A Glove box, prescriptions and more importantly a pen stash,
All stolen from the hospital’s closet
And sometimes even from a consultant’s pocket.
By the end of the fall, the room had become a food stall,
A movie theatre, a playground and a party hall
And whoever entered should follow the protocol,
That in the room nobody should smoke or consume alcohol.
One of them was a good cook, the other one just dabbled,
The third one just ate.
The staple foods were Maggi and Dosa,
Their evening snacks would definitely contain an aloo samosa.
It was December, the season of bittersweetness
They completed the course and so they had to vacate.
Their eyes knew what to do when they passed their hospital gate.
They cried their tears of joy, sorrow, pain, pleasure all at the same time.
It has been a year since they left the room but the room has never left them.
It is a remnant of who they were,
A fragment of who they are,
A determinant of who they would become.
follow @Karayum_varigal on Instagram.
#WritcoQuote #writco #writcoapp #love #nostalgia #friendship
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