As I am typing this, the BBC World Service anchorwoman is reading the latest news about the situation in Mumbai, and the stand-off at the Bangkok airport... My rather beloved Physics textbook, sits open wide on another chair to my right, and my other companion, the whiteboard stands scrawled with equations describing the physics of a capacitors, scattered with some other random equations describing wavefunctions, Kepler's Third Law and superposition on the margin. On the section of the table I occupy lie the whiteboard markers, my faithful Ziploc bag carrying my stationery, and my calculator.
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The room hasn't changed much since I moved in, with the exception of my lecture notes which have returned to my other table in my actual room.
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If you haven't figured out what I'm describing yet, well... it's OK. No one close to me has had the opportunity to see the little room, which I now affectionately call my "office", in the USP study lounge, otherwise known as "Chatterbox" or "Chatter", in short. Most people were under the impression that the place looks and feels like the "Quiet Area" in the Central Library, or the Study Room in YIH. I assure you, it's not filled to the brim with people desperately cramming for the exams we all were so pressured about. It's sometimes just you, the whiteboard, and a little room by the corner. The occasional visitors are welcomed, and I listen with fascination to their talk about Durkheim, and Weber, and the cunning plans of Prospero in Shakespeare's "Tempest" the lust of the Magistrate in Coetzee's "Waiting for the Barbarians".
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I thank this little space, and forgive it for the ridiculously cold nights the air-conditioning has given me, for making my Reading Week and the exam period a wholly bearable one, for the little comforts it provided me in my time of need and the hospitality it has offered.
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