On one fine day in our hostel, a man in his 50s came to me and asked,
“Can you please guide me to Room no. 212?”
We don’t often get to see strangers in our hostel. I wonder how did he pass the hundred-eyed-devil guard at the gate.
As a gesture of respecting the “unwelcomed” guest, I simply smiled at him and showed the way. However, it seems he was already aware of its whereabouts.
KNOCK! KNOCK!! KNOCK!!!
Keeping us waited for few minutes, a friend of mine opened the door.
The man rushed into the room without seeking for a permission and said, “This is the same room I used to stay 30 years ago, when I was of your age.”
The man became nostalgic and expressed, “It’s the same wall … same table … same cupboard… same windows … same doors with dirty words … same bed.” He stopped.
A lady emerged out who seems to be hiding under the bed.
“OMG! A lady in boys’ hostel?” I spoke to myself.
My friend was red with shame, “Uncle, please do not misunderstand us. I can explain. She is my cousin and searching her lost ring under the bed.”
The old man stretched his lips to smile and continued, “… and the same old drama.”
