Guest : Gaurav Gujral

We had to submit an article as part of course work for Business Communication in our first trimester. This was what Gaurav came up with. I think it is a masterpiece.

A DAY IN THE LIFE OF ROOM NO. 46

 The alarm goes off at 7.30 am. The gentle giant is supposed to wake up first and take a 30- minute- shower. But guess whose early morning dreams are shattered by the alarm? Mine! I shout out – “Turn off the alarm, o gentle giant!!” and go back to sleep.

Cut to 6 hours later… 1.30 pm…

Students file out of the class. I hear a voice calling out my name- “Gaurav.. Gaurav… I don’t think we’ll like the food in the mess. Let’s go out and eat.” Seconding his opinion is my 2^nd roommate who, for obvious reasons, will be referred to as the ‘mimic’ in this piece of writing. I, the non-controversial person that I am, agree. After a wholesome and fulfilling lunch of 10 scrambled eggs (only for the giant), dal, paneer and paranthas, we rush off to class at 2.15 pm.

Cut to 5 hrs later… 7.15 pm…

The inhabitants of room no. 46 are trying to study in peace and serenity. Suddenly, the mimic recalls an incident, gets up from his bed and mimics the hell out of each and every person he has met during the day. Hilarious!! After a brief roll on the floor and with a hurting stomach, we get up to get back to studying. The calm lasts for only 2 minutes, broken this time by the sheer ‘lack of noise’ of Mozart’s symphonies, courtesy the giant. “God, what has the world come to?” I ask in terror. Rock fans reading this will sympathize with me. To go from the deafening drum beats of Megadeth to the sinfully noiseless violins of Mozart is an experience I pray none of my rock-loving friends ever go through.

Soon its dinner time and I hear a familiar suggestion - “Gaurav.. Gaurav… I don’t think we’ll like the food in the mess. Let’s go out and eat.” After a wholesome and fulfilling dinner of 10 scrambled eggs (only for the giant), dal, paneer and paranthas (the queer similarity of the last few lines to the lines in 2^nd paragraph is purely deliberate, just to emphasize the frequency with which this incident occurs), we head off to have ice-cream. Everything is fine until the giant asks for a Walls Kulfi from the Cream-Bell vendor. Another round of rolling in the ‘hay’ follows (for the uninitiated, ‘hay’ is the single most frequently uttered word by the giant and can be substituted for any word in the English language, eg. I don’t like the ‘hay’ we get in the mess. We should go to a really expensive place and have ‘hay’ there).

Back in room no. 46, the satisfied giant sets an alarm for 10 minutes and dozes off. His uncanny ability to go into deep slumber as soon as he closes his eyes manifests itself soon enough. The alarm is ringing at full volume, the mimic and I are shouting at the top of our voices but alas, no response from the giant. After a minute of shouting, he finally turns in his bed, sets another alarm for 10 minutes and dozes off. No points for guessing the situation after another 10 minutes – we need to bring in inhabitants of other rooms as well.

Cut to 4 hours later.. 2 am..

I am planning to go off to sleep when I see the giant getting up. Yes, his 10 minutes had extended to 4 hours. Thankfully, we didn’t have to wake him up this time. I hope to catch up on my sleep now, wishing to wake up to the sound of my alarm rather than the one which sounds at 7.30 am. Another day in the life of room no. 46 beckons.

Gaurav Gujral

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No points for guessing who the gentle giant is.