Forever St. Xaviers

Recently I went looking for accommodation in Xavier’s hostel. After walking through an impressively ancient building, I entered the warden’s office where I found a chair, a chair fitting for a queen but not quite the throne so I think it was used for some other purpose. While I sat there and chatted with him, it appeared that, any moment now, Queen Victoria will march in and sit on the chair next to the warden and say, ‘hey who left my bathing chair out here. I can’t do it standing up.’ They had the concept of bathrooms by then I suppose. I have my doubts though after reading the oft-unquoted passage by a little known famous personality,

‘The invention of bathing was one of the most revolutionary achievements for Victorian England. It is one of the primary reasons for the English to have been able to multiply on the island. It is quite commendable that a civilization reluctant to accept the ideas of other countries took the cue from the royal family to start the culture of bathing. I will remain forever in awe of this civilization for reasons quite obvious.’ - Nami-baba (of the forty- four roomies fame).

Coming back to the space offered in St. X, the mattresses have always been slept in. they still reek of my possible super duper room papa. The walls still have some traces of its original paint left. Rest of the surface seems freshly vaporized paint, the smell of which is not evident because there is a still smell stronger smell that would compel Chanel no5 to be called Shame no. 2. It’s that musty odor that can only be generated with not leaving a room open since 1885. Oh how Victorian, how romantic how inspiring. My heart’s just leaping I am not quite sure whether its joy. It’s the kind of feeling the caveman would have when he would enter Bill Gates apartment. I can only scratch my head and hope that it holds a brain dull enough to withstand the potential depression this place can provide. Every time I move to ward the door of the room I can’t help hallucinating from the movie Quills, I see the warden speak in his suppressed Nepali accent ‘welcome to the mad house Namit, I hope you will find yourself at home’.

This compared to the hollow pleasures and unproductive serendipities of Yaadgaar, what should I do? Am I going to St. Xaviers? Yadgar may be the vantage point where all thoughts lead to sex and my roomies maybe professional gamblers and total failures in their love-lives but I still have to cross the required levels of desperation to accept Xaviers hostel as my address. So I am not going to say yes to St. X when my heart is shouting ‘NO’ even if it exudes the aura of an educational institution and the legitimacy associated to that. I am sticking to the illegitimate intimacy of the red-light area instead, at least for the time being.