WHERE HE REMAINS

2

Mid-September, the weather was warm and sultry outside. Inside the air-conditioned classroom, almost all the students at the back were enjoying their afternoon naps. I was sitting in the middle of a group of ninety-five students, my eyes fixed on the bulge behind the trousers of our zoology teacher as he lectured us about the neural system. I wondered how girthy it'd be to bulge out like that , Anytime now it could pop out.

"I'd like to squeeze it softly," I muttered to myself, my chin resting on my right hand, the tip of my pencil dangling from my mouth. He was standing at the corner of the whiteboard, waiting for students to copy down his meticulously drawn diagram of the nerve, each part carefully labelled. I had already finished my drawing, though it was rough and unappealing compared to his. The rest of the class was still trying to catch up.
I glanced at the notebook of the student on my right. His diagram was meticulously drawn, each part labelled with a different color, making it both clear and visually appealing. Then, I turned my head slightly to the left. The student beside me had a blank white page, no diagram in sight. He seemed lost in thought, staring vacantly at the classroom door directly in front of him and I had no intentions of interrupting him.

The final bell rang out loud at 12:36, signaling the end of the class. "Everyone, go through the diagram once more and make sure your revisions are thorough!" our zoology teacher shouted above the chaos of students packing up their things. His voice was nearly drowned out by the rumble of chatter and the scrape of chairs, as barely anyone paid attention to his last-minute advice. As we all steadily departed from the class, the guy who sat to my left remained where he was, not having moved an inch. His face was blank, yet he seemed zoned out, his eyes staring at the fully opened, empty notebook. Nobody bothered to notice him as everyone was in a hurry to get out of the class, and so was I. I didn't want to interrupt him again, as I wasn't sure what was going on with him, so I left the class like everyone else.

The walk from the institute to my dormitory usually took about ten minutes, but with the sudden flood of students and the afternoon traffic, it would take at least thirty minutes to reach. Sometimes, it could even stretch to an hour if I ran into any of my classmates from different batch, though that was a rare occurrence. I lived in a part of the city where coaching institutes clustered together like a bustling fish market, scattered within a few meters of each other. This area thrived with the energy of students, always buzzing with activity. Surrounding these institutes were numerous dormitories and hostels, each catering to the diverse needs of the student population.
The options seemed endless: single rooms for those who cherished their privacy, double rooms for those who preferred company, girls-only hostels and boys-only hostels . The variety was staggering, with something to suit every preference and budget. The streets were lined with these establishments, each one offering a unique blend of comfort and convenience, making it a haven for students from all over. And I preferred to live in a single room all by my own.
I was too tired to eat that day, so I skipped lunch and rushed straight to my room. The single rooms were on the first floor, the doubles on the second, and the cafeteria on the ground floor.
Turning on the lights, I peeled off my sweat-drenched shirt and cargo pants, changing into nothing but my underwear. I switched on the room cooler, adjusted the direction of the wind toward myself, and hopped onto the bed. With a long, deep sigh, I muttered to myself, "What a tiring day."

I slept like a log. Jolting awake with a slight panic, I grabbed my phone to check the time-18:30, and a barrage of missed alarm notifications greeted me. Indeed, I had slept like a log. According to my routine, I should have been up by 16:00, ready to tackle my first study session. But I never managed to wake up at that hour. I always slept longer, but never past five o'clock.
Hurtling towards the washroom, three rooms away. Splashing water on my face like a tight slap, I knocked myself out of my reveries. Finally, I collapsed into my chair, unchained my bag, and yanked out my physics notebook. With a dramatic slam on the table, I grasped my pen and flipped through the pages. "Fuck," I exclaimed as the page tore clean in half.

Time goes by so quickly , I finished revising Zoology , Physics from half - torn notes and everything taught in class around ten o'clock. My stomach growled loudly, a symphony of wolves reminding me I hadn't eaten anything since morning, surviving only on half a litre of water. If only I had paid more attention to my diet, I might have packed on some muscle and looked even better.
I ambled downstairs to the cafeteria, my footsteps echoing in the quiet. Silence roared through the room, broken only by the soft sounds of munching. I wasn't alone. A guy in spectacles sat in the far corner under a ceiling light, his face fully illuminated. I didn't know him, though. Truth be told, I didn't know anyone in this entire dorm except the owner and the guy in the room next to mine. I had only spoken to him on the first day to ask for directions to the terrace.

The food tasted stale and tepid. I guessed it had been cryopreserved since 1990, destined to end up in my stomach as cold as stone. I didn't eat much , Meanwhile, that guy filled his plate with rice and dal three times while I was barely making a dent in my portion. As I washed my hands, I saw his plate still piled high. "What in the world is his appetite?" I muttered, a bit worried about my own diet.
I returned to my room anyways , Still feeling starved but not enough to stay awake all night. I made my bed and packed my bag for tomorrow's classes. Turning off the tubelight, I sprawled on my soft yet firm bed. "Tiring day!" I sighed, glaring into the pitch-dark room, staring at the ceiling, waiting for my eyes to shut on their own and carry me off to sleep.

DAMN IT , I COULDN'T FALL ASLEEP . Maybe I wasn't tired enough to doze off, but that didn't mean I'd go back to studying and tire myself out with physics problems. "Nah, I wouldn't do that," I thought out loud. So I grabbed my earbuds, plugged them in, connected them to my phone, opened Spotify, searched for my current favorite song, and tapped play. As "Sunsetz" by Cigarette After Sex played, I deliberately shut my eyes and tried to force myself to sleep again.
Something kept me wide awake and conscious for no clear reason. I lay there, staring into the darkness, chasing sleep that seemed determined to elude me. In my head, I sang lyrics, imagining myself performing in a massive stadium, guitar in hand. That part I enjoyed, but I was also irritated. My melatonin production must be off tonight. "Ugh!"
I went on scrolling through my phone. I don't have any social media apps installed because it's too easy for me to get distracted and I can't afford to doomscroll in the middle of my study sessions. I decided to abandon all social media this gap year to focus on my medical entrance exam. Plus, I didn't want to see my friends' posts about their college lives. I envy them to a certain extent but never hated on their success and why would I? Everybody has their days to celebrate, and someday it will be my turn.

Eventually, I got bored of doomscrolling too. What I did next was certainly ironic. Maybe I wasn't in the right state of mind, or perhaps there weren't any better ways to kill my boredom that night. Or maybe it was just a late-night surge of sudden arousal for men. I'm not really sure.

The next thing that appeared on my screen was "Installing Grindr," with a buffering wheel spinning for a few seconds. Still, I'm not sure why I did that. It was a mistake. A blunder.