I remember the time the house got flooded and I put my mattress up on the fridge. I shared a bed with my flatmate, and we watched dead cockroaches, plastic bags and coconut shells floating around us.
I remember the time when a thief came to my window in the middle of the night. He did not make a sound, but I woke up and saw a man with a stick at my window, reaching into my room. I was too scared to scream.
I remember the time when a cat jumped on my feet when I was in bed. A white cat. In the middle of the night. It woke me up and streaked past. I wonder how I was sane enough not to think that it was a ghost.
I remember the time I fell down a manhole.
I remember the time when a bag – with my PAN card, library books, library card and wallet – were stolen from my room during the course of the night.
I remember how I woke up with a huge cockroach on my face. I picked it up, threw it across the room and went back to sleep.
All this happened during a single year at Kolkata.
My second year there was, somehow, remarkably uneventful.
Ashwini Sashital says
You threw the cockroach and went back to sleep? That, to me, is an act of ultimate courage 🙂
Varsha says
😀 The way I looked at it then, I didn’t have a choice!