Slippery staircases, damp suitcases, wet grass and cold grey skies.. that's what I remember first, the day I moved into my room at Block C, King Edward VII Hall of NUS. I'd heard it was a pretty boring place, so I suppose that just meant more home-entertainment required.
"Dude, this is a sexed out room. You've got a pretty good view", my 4th year cousin quipped.
"Of the opposite residence foyer? What's the big deal? The grassy slope, long winding road and cars seem more appealing..."
"International students. Hot chicks brother.When semester starts, you'll realise"
Damn.. short-sightedness is a pain when you want to look cool. Good proposition anyway.
Having unpacked my suitcase immediately, much to my cousin's distaste("why are you so impatient? you've got all day idiot. you were never this enthusiastic back home"), I decided I needed a bathroom break. I walked out of my room, heart filled with a new sense of responsibility and my bladder filled.. well, you get it. Hygiene freak or not, this new bathroom was going to be a challenge. Cracked washbasins, selfish and miserly taps, damp toilet paper strewn over the floors, disfigured pipes that looked like sewage saturated stalacmites.. WTF??? I was PAYING for this BULL****?? Calm down Sid, you'll find a better loo elsewhere in this block. This was hopefully the worst loo. Compost pits I would have welcome at that stage.
But just like how nature comes up with armour to deal with obstacles, or to make life simpler, I found my solution. Find the best cubicle to "go" and the best cubicle to bathe in the entire block and stick to them.. like how a bird would stick to its nest, like how a bear would retreat to its cave. To my relief, the hall appointed cleaners once the semester started. Bless the hall Admin for returning my natural(ised) habitat to a state of dignity.
Locking and opening the door was always complicated in the beginning. Simple task : You press the transponder once, turn the knob twice such that u hear 2 consecutive clicks, and all is well. Inspite of all the practice,a week later, I unwittingly left my door unlocked a whole night with my laptop and passport joyously dumped on my bed, spending a night messing in the waves at East Coast Park with my new batchmates. Luckily, no one had entered my room the whole night, or maybe they did and thought my possessions unworthy. Phew..never knew the word 'untouchables' could be shed in such positive light.
Just when I thought I was getting comfortable, I realised this single room came with a price. Lizard shit. All over the window sill and on the edges of my desk. And on this strategic point on my bedsheet.. maybe the lizard was just marking his territory. Symbiosis my ass. It's my room, my territory, you won't get any action here. It's amazing how animals can make you think like them in their presence. Nature and its weird hypnosis. Though slowly over the months, I came to live with this anonymous lizard in harmony. All I heard were a few lizardous shrill screeches at night; he never gave me any real trouble apart from falling bang on my textbook once from the ceiling and relieving himself on my desk once in a while. Kleenex tissues were around, big deal. Christening him wasn't a problem, Bronto seemed the best fit for his name. For some reason, Bronto gives me the impression of a tiny friendly dinosaur.. Living alone does give you a lot of time to think. So do the hols.. which is why I've taken time apart to write this. Guess I'll sign off for now and come back with more stories.
