Bangalore is not my home. I was brought to the city for college, just like my brother. But while my brother grew to appreciate the city (not his college) I grew to love my place of study. The course I do isn’t the conventional type that requires me to be by books all the time. I am made to explore so much more than that which is set in paper. Take this blog itself for example…
College isn’t everyone’s favourite hangout though. I guess in a way that makes me a stranger even in my own place of comfort. But in a way that comforts me. The Department of English is my pseudo home. I’ve even claimed my floor space beside my favourite teachers table. No one else can sit there.
Now, my class is lazy. Every single one of us are procrastinators. We hate to do work that is assigned to us unless we actually feel the pressure of deadlines pressing into our backs. Because of this our entire class is in detention “for an indefinite period”. I’m the weirdo who actually doesn’t mind. I can, in detention, do the same work that I do back at my PG, and am actually more likely to do it. Apart from doing my laundry of course (there’s a bit of back log there). Detention feels like working in an organisation. Each person is doing their own work. Some are working together as a class. Some are still slacking off and doing nothing of course or watching a movie. You also have your annoying late comers who blame others for their being late; saying they hadn’t been informed. Or those who were at the smoke lane getting lung cancer.
All in all, detention is kinda fun for me. I like being in a place with a desk and chair for myself to do my writing. I like sitting beside my friend who might be a creep but is always aesthetically pleasing. I like it. I like detention.