When I settled in my room, I almost didn’t notice my roommate. Ajith Vijayanathan was a lean, rustic boy with bushy hair but something about him was so rebellious that I secretly took to him instantly.
“Oy! That’s my bed,” he yelled at me and my luggage slipped from my hands. “You can take the bed on the right.” He picked up both the bags with one hand and flung them on the other bunk.
In the room
“But there are no pillows on this one,” I mumbled.
“Wait till you find out that you have to fight for the towels too!” he scoffed.
“Are you new here?”, he inquired.
“First year,” I replied.
“Better buckle up!” And he left the room and walked out to the lobby.
“Is life that tough here?,” I caught up to him.
“No! You’ll make friends and all your fights will become theirs too,” he said.
The next morning, I woke up coughing. It was as if I was in a gas chamber. “Can you please smoke outside? Have you been smoking all night?” I exclaimed.
“Get used to it. This is just a drill for you,” Ajith taunted.
I was scared because I had heard that hostels are notorious for bullying and fights. That day went in arranging my books and checking the schedule for classes. Two uneventful days later, I sat in the empty corridor, overlooking the old church and the back of our canteen. Nights have a different smell; sweet and calming. All the calm would disappear the next morning when other students would flock in.
“Good luck for tomorrow,” Ajith said.
“Thanks. Oh, I forgot. Which year are you in?” I asked.
At night
“Oh! I’m an old timer,” Ajith laughed and pulled his sheets over him. His gaze was fixed at the door when a loud banging woke me up.
“Who is it?” I asked. There was no answer.
The banging got louder. “Don’t answer that,” Ajith whispered.
“Open the door! I’m the superintendent. I’ve got complaints from your warden,” the man outside yelled. I froze with fear. It must be Ajith’s smoking. I hurried to open the door but Ajith grabbed my shirt. “Go back to bed. Don’t open the door. I’ll tell you everything tomorrow,” he commanded.
I don’t remember much after that. I must’ve passed out from the tension. Ajith shook me awake the next morning, gave me some water and asked if I was all right. I nodded. “Why didn’t you let me open the door last night?” I asked.
“The superintendent doesn’t come back until next week,” he said. “We are adjacent to the Old Court Road, infamous for the ghosts that haunt this place!”.
I laughed at his face. “How did you know?” I asked mockingly.
“Because his feet weren’t visible from under the door unless he knew how to float,” he replied. I realised he was right. The shadow of a person on the other side of the door comes in from under it. But I stayed silent.
A shock
I went down to the office to ask about the superintendent and was told that he wouldn’t be back until the week after. A chill ran down my spine. But it could’ve been some others messing with us. I was about to turn back when the warden asked me to help two other boys move into my room.
“But there are only three beds,” I said.
“Do you need two of them?” the warden asked coldly.
“No. My roommate and I occupy two beds already!” I exclaimed.
“I don’t remember assigning anyone else to 105,” the warden said angrily. “What’s his name?”
“Ajith Vijayanathan,” I replied.
The warden stared at me blankly. “How do you know him?” he asked finally.
“I met him when I first moved in,” I explained.
“Ajith died two years ago.”
