A lot has happened since term began, but I feel it is appropriate to start my posts from the beginning – when I moved back into my flat (nicknamed ‘B8′) in October.
As I am in 3rd year now, this is my second year living away from the comfort and homliness of halls. Before my 2nd year began I still hadn’t found a place to stay – the height of student procrastination. Fortunately my parents are very tolerant, kind-hearted people so we drove to London a week before term started and found a nice studio flat in the proximity of Imperial.
For about nine months I had a relatively nice time there; many Imperial students live in the same area, and Earl’s court with all its restaurants is just behind. I had no problem staying there for another year, but my mother was quite contrary to the idea. I suppose she had reason to be.
It all started on Hallowe’en 2008…
I remember it like it was yesterday…
I had just returned from a friend’s hallowe’en gathering. It was dark and chilly outside – typical October 31st. I was getting ready to sleep, thinking to myself that it would be a nice change if I actually got spooked on Hallowe’en night. My morbid wish came true a few minutes later.
Through my heavy blankets I saw something black move very quickly in my bathroom. It was too small to be a cat but to big to be a cockroach. I thought this was part of a strange dream, so I left it until the next morning.
As I was performing my morning ablutions I saw it again – darting across the bathroom. It was a disgusting little mouse. I had never been that terrified before. Mice in my house in India are alright, because you expect it. But in London? I was angry, scared and clueless – and I couldn’t concentrate on producing those engineering drawings that were due the next week.
In a small London flat there is no point in doing the ‘humane’ thing by capturing the little critters and releasing them into the wild (aka the London sewers). They dash about like Flash so you end up looking like an idiot trying to chase them. The landlord sent one of his cronies to set up traps in all the dark little corners. These traps consist of a tiny cardboard box with some poison. If you’re lucky the mouse will die in it.
After a week of chasing a mouse that could seemingly teleport, it was replaced by a pungent smell. The battle was finally over.
My father slowly removed the bodies (my parents had come that weekend to help out). There had been two mice. They were so small…and I felt ashamed at my fear of them (until another pair returned in March). I learnt that mice were an integral part of old London buildings. London is a big, crowded city, so things like this are inevitable.
Then there was the time it rained in my studio.
You know the nice, calm feeling you get when it’s raining lightly outside at dawn and you are snuggled in bed? And then the sound gets louder and louder. And then you open your eyes… and it’s sunny outside but there’s a rainstorm indoors.
It wasn’t that the roof was leaking with a few drips in a couple of places; it was dripping everywhere with a pretty big force. It was the first time I went to the toilet with an umbrella. Good times. Apparently a crucial pipe had burst, but everything was fixed by the evening. The smell and dampness was a little hard to get rid of, but time solves all.
You can see why my mother was not so keen on me moving back to the ‘mouldy old’ place. I took her advice and visited more flats, but I couldn’t help comparing them with my B8. B8 had slowly transformed into a home, and despite the difficulties of adjusting I have grown to love it. I feel very lucky that this very flat was free in October, almost as if it knew I was returning…
(Wow. It took me 668 words to get to my point. I promise the word count will be less next time!)
