Hostel Pictures

February 12, 2008 / 09:03 PM / 63C

My hostel days have become very infrequent in short. I guess that time will be here soon when I will not be able to come to the hostel again. So instead of just missing a thing and creating its memory inside the mind and living with the probability that it will fade with the years, it is better that I create some documentation that I can look back at and refreshen even the tiniest detail.This is why when today I left home I brought all my camera phones along. The idea was to take pictures of the hostel for a personal collection which I can look back to in the coming years. Lala was preoccupied in some matter regarding his brother and that is why I did not bother him for my adventure and I undertook that my own self starting from the Broome Hostel.

Everytime I go to that building, it reminds me of Junaid. I always liked how cosy and hidden his room was. If I had that room, I would have arranged that in the best concealed and geeky theme. His room was art. Especially after a rain he could enjoy a hot cup of tea while standing at his balcony and looking out towards the crossing of Hall road and McLeod Road. But he left the hostel without telling anyone where he was going and now most of the time his cell phone is powered off. I hope and I wish that wherever he is he is happy and he is healthy. I went to the rooftop of the hostel and took many pictures. The roof is from the time of the British Era and that itself is a scary thing. Because when the traffic is more on the roads next to it, one can feel the roof vibrating and it brings bad thoughts. I hope everyone stays safe in that part of hostel. Then I went to the main hostel and took a few pictures. The walls are coated with a strange slogan.


Some students have told me that it is done by an Arab student who is in Pakistan for his medical degree and he is madly in love with a Pakistani girl. That is why the slogan in reverse is a confession that he loves that girl. So JEERAVOLI becomes I LOVE AREEJ. Not so cryptic. One must keep a lid on his love for two reasons. If it fails, nobody will mock. If it flourishes, no one will be jealous. I know this love story will also go to the trash just like many other love stories before it. It is one sided apparently and too impractical. Assuming even if the story is successful there are many technical issues that need to be straightened to avoid it from a disaster. One out of many is that boy is too fat and that girl is too slim. That can be a disaster from a medical point of view. But who am I to judge. This is just an observation. My teachers used to call it hypothesis. From the main hostel I went to the new building. That building always reminds me of the earlier days and the bone penetrating cold of Lahore to which I was not accustomed to and it gave me very uncomfortable days and nights. I took a few pictures there and came back to the C Block where Lala was again preoccupied. I went to the mess and had lunch and without going back to the room, I headed home. the roads were saturated. Which is why it took some time for me to reach back home. money was not at home  then. I dozed off until a few minutes back and I have written these words on the diary after waking up. I am feeling too hungry and craving something spicy. some ladies are constantly nagging me on the messages. but I guess that is a torture every young man goes through. Until he grows old and so does the torture.