Escape

A kitty that I spotted on my way to Gwyer.

1st year at College. I was bent over my bucket washing clothes when my neighbour who was in third year asked - " You wash your clothes yourself? You can give them to the dhobi at Gwyer Hall!"
Honestly speaking, I didn't understand this fancy hall's name at first. Obviously, I was totally oblivious how important this fancy hall will be to me in years to come.

One fine evening, she took me there. We went by rickshaw. It was nothing fancy at all. The people there quietly did their work. We just had to leave our dirty clothes with them and they'll give us clean and ironed clothes THE NEXT DAY! Impressive.
I started going to the dhobi at Gwyer Hall regularly, on foot now, sometimes with my room mate. The place was more famous because of the canteens around serving parathas, (which were really good alternative to the meals in mess one didn't like) but my motive remained going to the Gwyer hall dhobi (though I tried the parathas a few times, nothing beats ghar ka khaana, right?)

Days passed and my motive behind Gwyer trips changed.

The walk from college to Gwyer was an escape for me. Off course, you can't run away from the circumstances, but I devised a way to take a momentary leave. 30 minutes. 30 minutes of my own, which I set aside for myself from time to time. Whenever college seemed too overwhelming for me to handle, I took my bag, stuffed my dirty clothes and ran off to Gwyer Hall. I still remember, one day, when it was about to rain, I still went ahead with this little ritual of mine. It didn't rain until I was coming back to college. I saw rickshaws passing by, but I was enjoying walking in the rain. It was like I treated myself - it was refreshing. 
After 2 or 3 semesters, the people who did my laundry even started recognising me, they remembered my clothes, the kind lady there sometimes asked me about college too and always asked me if I'll be going home for the holidays and mid semester breaks. I liked this casual talk, this concern from these people who were almost strangers to me.
By the time college was coming to an end, I was so used to walking to Gwyer Hall that I could do it without giving it a thought. I know it was very irresponsible on my part to do so, but my thoughts would be wandering everywhere and I would be walking to Gwyer. My feet just took me there, as if they were programmed to do so. Sometimes, I also observed the things and people around. I had ample of time to think and clear my head and at times, this back-fired and I returned with even more thoughts.
I recall the day I went there to collect the last batch of clothes. My favourite strangers didn't utter a word, neither did I. Perhaps they didn't know it was my last visit or they knew and had seen so many students come and go over years and it wasn't a big deal for them. I don't know, but it was very awkward. I don't know why, I felt grateful that these people, this place existed. Maybe I'll go there again someday.

Such seemingly not-so-significant place had such an important place in my life. I guess that happens with many things during our lives. Needless to say, I miss Gwyer and my walks, a lot.