Yes, I am alive. just struggling with my cumbersome academic obligations. you may buy that excuse if you want to. anyways, hope y'all are doing fine.
this one-shot was actually a strange dream of mine.
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Type was ten when he first toured that side of his uncle's school with his mother. It was a new building meant for the fresh batch of hostellers and the permanent staff, separated from the main building by few acres of land with facilities for students. The entire school premises looked afresh, massive, spacious and more posh than before rather than jam-packed. This school had been started from the scratch by type's maternal uncle and now it had made its name into the list of leading academic houses of the nation. Not only that, the school was also popular for its edifice style which made it stand out. Each wing had taken inspiration from some or the other ancient architectural form and pattern, the replication of that on the school walls was mesmerising.
Type roamed in the corridors and this time it was the Greek style of architecture.
"beautiful" he gasped while his mother went off further.
Type had an exceptional fascination for architecture since beginning and the way the design on the walls was replicated with the impressions of The Greek Colosseum had him stare and touch the walls with utter approbation. The sunlight percolated from all the direction and nurtured the creepers that hung from the bottom of the railing, this made it just the perfect ambience for him, he liked it better than his maternal grandmother's bungalow.
His mother pushed open the translucent doors of a lecture hall where the seats were arranged like an arena in contrast to the translucent door panels with faintly coloured Arabic prints on them. But poor type . he never got to see the lecture hall, before he could his mother received a call and they had to leave. His curiosity towards this hall oddly had built up to heights.
As they left type glimpsed for the second time at the replica of the ancient Korean sundial that was placed prudentially in the courtyard of the building.
Years hence, when type was fifteen, he came back to the hostel, this time not to tour but for a ten-day vocational course on world architecture styles, just to add to another prestige to his already flamboyance-packed portfolio. Also this time, he was alone and on a school vacation. Today since had just arrived, his uncle let him wear his casuals and tour the same building to get familiar with the classrooms and teachers, and stuff. Unlike before, there was quite a bustle around, yet the pious sunlight made things serene.
The teachers at the school were like uncles and aunts to him and treated him with extra unwanted compassion since his uncle was the principal as well as the trustee of that school. The building had four floors, excluding the terrace, and classrooms, and staff rooms on each floor, type's was on the fourth. He went around the fourth floor and all of a sudden he came across the same lecture hall whose curiosity was long forgotten to him, still that wish to open the doors and head inside became compelling once again.
