The huge huddle in Mishra’s room finally broke out with a collective sigh. While it was relief let out by some, exhaustion was also a part of the air around the Fifth Wing. Merva’s illegible scrawls lay Xeroxed in our hands, as Jynja, Mishra and I ambled around the corridor, filling in on minute details at the eleventh hour. My loose shirt swayed at the sides, as the others scrambled to keep a hold of their loose pages. Downstairs, Haddu joined another jolly bunch in lighting up and away the banalities and vagaries of four long years...
***
Almost proportionally, as the light from the window kept dimming, my chin, unstably resting on my slipping hands, went closer and closer to the books I was supposed to be studying. As I shook up from another unintentional catnap, the darkness outside told a story quite different from the wall clock’s. I got up and trudged that well-worn path to G-27, to find Dela strapping his sandals to reciprocate. Smiling, I asked the obvious question- Coffee, Dile? The weather's amazing outside. He didn’t crib about having a mountain of notes to copy and the usual rants about the insti’s affection for academic bulimia; the cool draft from the back door would barely allow anyone to.
***
While I was eagerly following Man Utd’s second-string’s demolition of Schalke in the Champions League semi-final on the phone, Mango texted that the lights had gone out in the Nightingale’s Nest too, putting her plans of finishing some vast syllabus over the course of the night in great jeopardy. Yet, her voice betrayed little concern for that business. The strong winds were making it difficult to walk, and the century-old tree in front of Ravindra danced in delight. Exams could take a backseat when the heavens were in such a generous mood.
***
Back in the corridor, Mishra was getting goose bumps. “It’s going to rain, I’m telling you. It’s unbelievable. It always rains, ever so slightly, every single time, during these exams. It’s...”
His voice melted away in the rapturous thunder from the sky. We took pictures to mark the occasion; their hair wavy and unrestrained. And it rained. One final time.
P.S.- Anu Malik’s solo albums were great entertainment, weren’t they?
3 comments:
One final time? That's rather not right. It'll continue to rain always, always. And that will serve as the link between you and the people you covet, no matter where you are. :)
It's eerie how the rain-gods conspire to bless us without fail every time during the exams. On that note, I hope it rains in London tonight. Even Fergie acknowledges how a downpour changes United's fortunes for the better every time.
@ Anunya
Like, totally.
@ MGay
Damn, I hate reading your comment after the game. :|
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