vibinrajmani
23rd August 2008, 05:02 AM
Guys and Gals,
One of my journal entry:
February 22, 2006
I have rarely talked about my classmates or friends. I met Xavier at APO. Xavier was my antithesis. I am a Microbiology major; he was majoring in Philosophy. I had no friends besides my roommate; he practically knew everyone. I didn't drink; he consumed alcohol like water. I am quiet and sedate; he was larger than life. Despite our differences, or perhaps because of them, we got along pretty well. We'd spend some nights talking until the wee hours or he did most of the talking, ranging from philosophy to girls.
It didn't surprise me that Xavier had discovered a party to attend.
At seven-fifteen, I was curled up on my couch, with the heater cranked upto seventy-six, turning the pages of a Jane Austen novel. My mood didn't warrant anything more substantive. I had my T.V. on, turned to CNN, and my radio to NPR. Reading wasn't a problem though. I'd long since mastered the tactic of tuning out noise or distractions.
Then a knock on the door, cutting into my concentration, as Xavier stuck his head through the door to my room. "Come with me to the party I told you about." "No thanks," I told him. "I've got plans." It wasn't a lie. I fully expected to get five chapters read before turning out the lights.
He gave me the "bullshit" stare. I wanted to avoid the "you need to enjoy yourself and lighten up" lecture. "What, you want me drive you, is that it?" I asked him. "That would be awesome of you, bro," Xavier said with that gleeful look of his. "Alright, this is the last time," I told him. Over the past weeks, he'd gotten into his head that his mission would be to expand my cultural horizons. To that end, he had introduced me to a ton of his friends, tried to get me to accompany him to a bar, and nearly succeeded in forcing me to dance. According to Xavier, I was hopeless. He was probably right.
So I got up, reluctantly put the book down, and threw on a sweater. We reached the destination with relative ease as the noise from the party could be heard a quarter-mile away. The vibration might have been enough to damage my eardrums. At that instance, I concluded that this was going to be a long night. I kept wondering whether I had answered question five on the Immunology midterm correctly.
The noice was a lot louder in the hall and almost deafening once Xavier had opened the door to the small three-room suite. The pungent aroma of sweat, booze, and grass wafted into the hall, accompanied by the blare of ear-screeching music. I resisted the urge to plug my ears as Xavier and I slipped inside.
Boy, was this place crowded. The living room, which was probably twelve feet by twelve feet, was wall-to-wall people. The same was true for the double bedroom. Even the bathroom appeared to be filled. My best guess put the total number of people present at close to thirty. I wondered how many fire laws were being broken.
Xavier disappeared into the press around me, presumably looking for something to drink. It's amazing how hard it can be to locate someone in such a small space. I considered leaving immediately. Even then, trying to make it to the door would have been like swimming upstream. The prevalent current of bodies was going deeper into the suite, pulling me along with it.
I felt someone grab by arm and turned to see Xavier, with a drink in his hand. He flashed me the "I am gonna get really drunk" smile and shouted in my ear that it was awesome of me to drive him here. My response was a rather unenthusiastic nod.
Whatever song had been playing came to an end and there was a momentary lessening of noise. Into this breach, Xavier said, "Look, there's someone here I want you to meet. She is from Columbia." Pushing me along, Xavier forced his way through the knot of people over to a girl who was lounging up against a half-open window. It was thirty degrees outside, but the frigid breeze was welcome in the heat of the room.
"Diana, this is Vibin. Vibin, Diana," said Xavier, perfunctorily introducing us before melting out of sight. The music started up again: a tolerable R&B track.
Diana was about six inches shorter than I was with curly black hair that hung to her shoulders and bright brown eyes. Her skin had the healthy color of someone who'd spent a lot of time out in the sun. She was wearing a tight-fitting black tee shirt and a white skirt that ended well above her knees. "Hi," she mouthed, the noise level again having risen to where conversation was impossible.
Diana moved away from the window and beckoning for me to join her, started to gyrate to the music. It wasn't actually dancing - there wasn't really enough room for dancing - but she was undoubtedly letting the rhythm of the song carry her along. Hips swayed and arms moved, alternately lifted above her head and then sliding down the side of her body. Hair whipped from left to right, frequently obscuring at least part of her features.
I could feel a flush of heat and, despite the frigid blast of air from behind me, a trickle of sweat made its way between my shoulder blades and down my back. Diana took my hand and pulled me more toward the center of the room where the crush of bodies was nearly unbearable.
When the music ended, we broke apart, she to get something to drink and me to make my way to the exit. I pushed and shoved until I got outside, where I heaved a sigh of relief. Xavier could find someone else to give him a ride back to his place.
I didn't get to my room until twelve. I took a quick shower, then collapsed on the bed. I didn't try to do any reading. Instead I lay there in the dark thinking about question number five from the Immunology exam. I didn't get a wink of sleep all night.
One of my journal entry:
February 22, 2006
I have rarely talked about my classmates or friends. I met Xavier at APO. Xavier was my antithesis. I am a Microbiology major; he was majoring in Philosophy. I had no friends besides my roommate; he practically knew everyone. I didn't drink; he consumed alcohol like water. I am quiet and sedate; he was larger than life. Despite our differences, or perhaps because of them, we got along pretty well. We'd spend some nights talking until the wee hours or he did most of the talking, ranging from philosophy to girls.
It didn't surprise me that Xavier had discovered a party to attend.
At seven-fifteen, I was curled up on my couch, with the heater cranked upto seventy-six, turning the pages of a Jane Austen novel. My mood didn't warrant anything more substantive. I had my T.V. on, turned to CNN, and my radio to NPR. Reading wasn't a problem though. I'd long since mastered the tactic of tuning out noise or distractions.
Then a knock on the door, cutting into my concentration, as Xavier stuck his head through the door to my room. "Come with me to the party I told you about." "No thanks," I told him. "I've got plans." It wasn't a lie. I fully expected to get five chapters read before turning out the lights.
He gave me the "bullshit" stare. I wanted to avoid the "you need to enjoy yourself and lighten up" lecture. "What, you want me drive you, is that it?" I asked him. "That would be awesome of you, bro," Xavier said with that gleeful look of his. "Alright, this is the last time," I told him. Over the past weeks, he'd gotten into his head that his mission would be to expand my cultural horizons. To that end, he had introduced me to a ton of his friends, tried to get me to accompany him to a bar, and nearly succeeded in forcing me to dance. According to Xavier, I was hopeless. He was probably right.
So I got up, reluctantly put the book down, and threw on a sweater. We reached the destination with relative ease as the noise from the party could be heard a quarter-mile away. The vibration might have been enough to damage my eardrums. At that instance, I concluded that this was going to be a long night. I kept wondering whether I had answered question five on the Immunology midterm correctly.
The noice was a lot louder in the hall and almost deafening once Xavier had opened the door to the small three-room suite. The pungent aroma of sweat, booze, and grass wafted into the hall, accompanied by the blare of ear-screeching music. I resisted the urge to plug my ears as Xavier and I slipped inside.
Boy, was this place crowded. The living room, which was probably twelve feet by twelve feet, was wall-to-wall people. The same was true for the double bedroom. Even the bathroom appeared to be filled. My best guess put the total number of people present at close to thirty. I wondered how many fire laws were being broken.
Xavier disappeared into the press around me, presumably looking for something to drink. It's amazing how hard it can be to locate someone in such a small space. I considered leaving immediately. Even then, trying to make it to the door would have been like swimming upstream. The prevalent current of bodies was going deeper into the suite, pulling me along with it.
I felt someone grab by arm and turned to see Xavier, with a drink in his hand. He flashed me the "I am gonna get really drunk" smile and shouted in my ear that it was awesome of me to drive him here. My response was a rather unenthusiastic nod.
Whatever song had been playing came to an end and there was a momentary lessening of noise. Into this breach, Xavier said, "Look, there's someone here I want you to meet. She is from Columbia." Pushing me along, Xavier forced his way through the knot of people over to a girl who was lounging up against a half-open window. It was thirty degrees outside, but the frigid breeze was welcome in the heat of the room.
"Diana, this is Vibin. Vibin, Diana," said Xavier, perfunctorily introducing us before melting out of sight. The music started up again: a tolerable R&B track.
Diana was about six inches shorter than I was with curly black hair that hung to her shoulders and bright brown eyes. Her skin had the healthy color of someone who'd spent a lot of time out in the sun. She was wearing a tight-fitting black tee shirt and a white skirt that ended well above her knees. "Hi," she mouthed, the noise level again having risen to where conversation was impossible.
Diana moved away from the window and beckoning for me to join her, started to gyrate to the music. It wasn't actually dancing - there wasn't really enough room for dancing - but she was undoubtedly letting the rhythm of the song carry her along. Hips swayed and arms moved, alternately lifted above her head and then sliding down the side of her body. Hair whipped from left to right, frequently obscuring at least part of her features.
I could feel a flush of heat and, despite the frigid blast of air from behind me, a trickle of sweat made its way between my shoulder blades and down my back. Diana took my hand and pulled me more toward the center of the room where the crush of bodies was nearly unbearable.
When the music ended, we broke apart, she to get something to drink and me to make my way to the exit. I pushed and shoved until I got outside, where I heaved a sigh of relief. Xavier could find someone else to give him a ride back to his place.
I didn't get to my room until twelve. I took a quick shower, then collapsed on the bed. I didn't try to do any reading. Instead I lay there in the dark thinking about question number five from the Immunology exam. I didn't get a wink of sleep all night.