Moments I Wish I'd Photographed

Courtesy: www.stephaniecorfee.com / www.tocofi.com

Last night before I crawled into bed, as is the usual practice, I peeked into my baby’s crib. He, as always, looked adorable. However, the position he was in made the sight all the more precious. He was all stretched out with his little wrist over his forehead and his tiny mouth half open. It looked as if he was resting after a long hard day at work. I ran out to get the camera. But, as luck would have it, he had changed positions before I got back.

Lying in bed, my mind scanned through those many occasions I wish I had clicked. Memories from my hostel life flooded in…

• I remember an evening when three of us roommates (me, she and the other she) declared that we were bored and didn't have anything to do. Smart students like us wouldn't dare feature studies in the to-do list months prior to the semester exams. One of the bored souls suggested applying make-up for each other. No, we didn't have any plans of going out. I remember we were so bored we walked up to the shelf where we kept our stuff, trying to get into the mood. Then, there was an improvised thought. There were two rules to the game. Funny how games suddenly take shape! So, the rules were:

1. Each one of us should apply makeup for one among us itself, simultaneously. To be more precise, it was not a one-on-one.
2. You couldn’t stop until you finished.

I can't really word how we looked that night once the game was over. Extended lips, multiple eyes - we looked horrendous, filthy and downright hilarious! Not one photograph to prove this sudden spark of creativity. If only mirrors stored images!

• It was a warm summer afternoon. I was in the corner of my bed deep into Alex Haley’s Roots. My roomy comes barging into the room; evidently furious. She was supposed to be out on a date with her boyfriend. She was undressing while I was contemplating whether to stay away from the fire or try putting it out. She turned around to face me.

She (to me): 45 mins Bis! I was waiting and waiting and waiting. He didn't turn up. I am humiliated, sad and hungry. The hostel food’s also over.

It went on and on. I sat listening giving my own inputs and suggesting that we go out. I empathized, which acts like sand on the fire. Suddenly we heard the familiar tok-tok sound from somewhere outside the window. That was their code for her to look out of the window. To give you a background, our window overlooked the road which led to the boys’ hostel. With all that fury rushing back, she went to  the window with crimson cheeks and in her stony calm and stern voice interrogated…

She (to him): What? Where were you? Blah blah blah

I kept signaling to her to get back in. But the fury had shut her ears not just to his justifications but to my signs of warning too.

She (to him): No, I am not coming today!

She turned back into the room and suddenly coming back to her senses, she looked down at herself.

She (to me - embarrassed): Bis was I at the window like this?

Me (to her): Well, I tried warning you but you were so busy giving him a piece of your mind.

She (thinking aloud): No wonder he was all stunned in the beginning!

Summer is the time when chemises spot the biggest trend within closed hostel rooms. The look on her face at the point of realization; her furious crimson cheeks slowly turning into a blush - it’s framed in my memory bank.

• That was an era of letters. The Internet was still finding its way to India. Unlike emails, letters took time to come into existence  You had to be in the mood, then you needed to get the right words, etc.. Basically it was looked upon as hard work! One pleasant evening after her bath, the other she (TOS) decided to write her friend a letter. TOS decided to do it in style. She pulled her chair out into the hostel backyard and began writing her letter. TOS had written almost 2-3 pages (I may be wrong, but it was definitely more than one) when she came in to attend a phone call (That era was alien to mobile phones too). After she was done talking over the phone, TOS went back all eager to complete her letter and oh my; the sight she sees! A grazing cow chewing away all those pages of hard work! We looked out of the window hearing some kind of reprimanding. How I wish I had clicked what I saw through the window. A small framed young lady with a few blank sheets of paper in hand yelling at a big fat cow; who simply chewed on with a bleak expressionless face.

• There was another room that I was part of. One of my roommates there, I remember, used to act on her dreams the moment she woke up. Let us call her dream catcher. This incident always succeeds in making me laugh. Miss Dream Catcher was taking a siesta, listening to the songs playing on my stereo. She had this habit of setting the stereo up on her bed and listening to soft music (pathos mostly). The rest of us had woken up and were sipping our cups of tea. Miss Dream Catcher wakes up, unplugs the stereo in a giffy, cradles it in her arm and almost strides out of the room. I stopped her at the door and asked her where she was heading to. She seemed in so much haste. She tried brushing me aside saying “Move. Let me keep this fish in the freezer before it begins to rot.” There she was catching her dreams again. Good thing I woke her up or else my stereo would be in the wash basin under the tap for all you know.
• I'll stop for now with this last one. I was quite an absent minded professor back in college. I admit that traces of that still exist. To top it I was elected treasurer to the Civil department in my final year. It was an honorary position. Knowing myself, I didn't think it was a good idea. Imagine an absent minded being and all that cash. Bligh me! One night as I was folding out my clothes, my friend (she) walked into the room and casually asked me for my purse.

A confused me (who was caught forgetting things so often): Oh did I forget my purse somewhere?

She: Not just any purse Bis! The one in which you keep the department’s cash and records. You left it by the phone. Why you so careless? What if…

I really don't know how my face looked then. Whenever I hear her telling this story, I feel she would have liked it if my expression was clicked and stored. The expression of being caught again and again and again.