Yet another day

Yesterday was an uncharacteristically dull day. My wing seemed unusually silent. I couldn't help but go around finding out what was wrong.

My neighbour, Aruppu, inside his room, was on a "movie spree" (as he termed it). After returning from classes, he had watched 3 movies in a row without break and was in the middle of the 4th when I knocked on his door. I decided not to disturb his flow. I moved along.

A couple of rooms away, Darling was looking blankly at a newspaper, feeling low over a bad quiz result. I tried pepping him up but he was not in the usual kind of mood. I couldn't do anything more than leave him alone.

A few locked rooms thereafter and next came D'ram. He was busy doing something on his comp. I said "Hi" through his window. Without even looking up, he replied a "Hi" so low in volume that I understood he was clearly not interested in anything other than his task at that moment. I continued moving.

One room later was Ala. His dust-allergy had given him a cold. With a towel on his shoulder to counter any untimely nose-overflow, he appeared in a state of discomfort. I compassionately inquired about his health and medication. He needed rest and I decided not to disturb him.

All of a sudden, I started feeling dull and down for no explicable reason. Coming back to my room, I logged onto GTalk with the hope of finding something, someone inspiring. I generally check all the status messages everytime I come online and usually find many interesting ones. But yesterday, as I said, was uncharacteristically dull. Barring the usual KJ's Tran PJs, there wasn't anything much I could derive inspiration from. I changed my status message to "Down...", honestly indicating my state of mind. A couple of people immediately responded and tried to lift my spirits up. It was really nice of them to do so. These kind of responses certainly make one feel that he's being cared for.

During the course of a chat, I realised that I had loads to mug up for my B slot (Communications Systems) exam, scheduled to be held next week. The usual unit of measurement for this course's syllabi is the number of pages to mug from a textbook authored by a certain Bellamy; for the upcoming exam, this number, I was told, was over 200. If Robert Frost knew my plight, he would have probably written this for me:

The chapters are lovely, long and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
Loads to mug before I sleep,
And loads to mug before I sleep.

I wished I could finish off Bellamy the earliest!

It was time to retire to bed. I played some soft Rafi numbers and switched off the lights, vowing to start afresh next morning. Yet another day had ended...