Of Hostels and Garbage

"Buildings may come up, be demolished and go

And streets may be renamed to something clever.

And Potholes may come and potholes may go,

But garbage shall stay here forever."

Ah, Garbage! What would our world be without you? It is you who fills up those empty spaces left so detestably clean by people, who adds 'colour' to the surroundings and who adds that much needed fragrance to counter the effects of the noxious fresh air that some weirdos seem to like. What would Indian towns be without you? Nothing, I say. Without you, dear Garbage, these cities and towns would not be Indian cities and towns but simple towns and cities like anywhere else in the world; and there's no fun in that.

We are a nation of diversity which retains its culture and traditions while also mingling and fusing with the west and nothing gives as bold an affirmation if this fact as you do. For when one sees ladoo boxes lying amidst packets of western chips, fancy Reebok or Adidas sneakers all torn up and discarded alongside a pile of worn out chapals or a Subway wrapper floating down the drains on a rainy day, right beside a kathi roll wrap, one cannot help but acknowledge this coexistence of two separate worlds, in a manner of speaking, in one nation.

As for your value as a beautifier of a locale, I bear witness to it everyday. Be it the staircase in the hostel, the fire hydrant box, an empty shaft that's under construction or even the hotel elevators some part of you is present at one of these places at the very least, adding variety and helping break the monotony of a clean environment. Yes, despite the existence of those nefarious creations of man called dustbins or wastepaper baskets, as some call them, well within walking distance of these places I mentioned your presence has not been wiped out, not yet. After all, such is your magnificence, so marvelous is your presence that despite the best efforts of those heathens (of whose ranks I, sadly, am a part) who aim to eradicate your presence from all public spaces, who wish to see our locales, our towns and cities reduced to the bland cleanliness of some western nations your followers have held their ground. And while the rest of the world slowly gives in to the horde of dustbin-fanatics, VIT-C's Boys Hostel shall always remain a safe haven, an island of reason in the ocean of madness.

EDIT: Added an impromptu poem included in the Campus Diaries version of this post (linked here).