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I have always been of the thinking that a campus room mate is a guy with the potential to make one's campus life extremely enjoyable & to be someone's best friend. But after several clashes with my current room mate, my opinion has suddenly changed. I'm now totally against the idea of room sharing. I choose to share with you one of the many reasons as to why I think room mates are a real pain in the neck.

I had two hours of sleep last night, all thanks to my not-so-considerate room mate, Bobby.

After a hard day's work, capped off by a few hours in the library trying to make sense of Heisenberg's principles ( I don't know why we learn this stuff in the first place), I head to my room at 10 pm, hoping to sleep soundly, after all, I deserve it. I open the door and it is quite evident that Bobby & I are from different planets. My side of the room is, if I should say so myself, sparkling. Bobby's side is a different proposition altogether - clothes scattered everywhere, cups & plates on the floor. They say good manners start from home; I certainly won't want to be invited over to his place for lunch. Thank God he isn't in the room. At least I won't have to listen to his endless blabbering. I swiftly put on my pajamas and jump to bed. But I had celebrated too soon. Just as I was drifting away to Dreamland, the door opens.

In walks Bobby, with his entire posse in tow. If you think these guys were whispering, you couldn't be more wrong. Everyone had to recognize the presence of Bobby & his clique and yesterday, unfortunately, they were in my yard.

Completely oblivious of my attempts to get some sleep, Bobby turns on his boom box and adjusts the volume to maximum, for added effect. I never quite understood the thrill of blaring, ear-deafening music. Clearly, I won't be sleeping any time soon.

Frustrated, I get out of bed and head for my friend's room in my pink pajamas. Maybe the computer games there will soothe me. It is now 11 pm & Bobby's goon squad is yet to leave the room. 11.30 and I get a tad angry. Maybe I can talk some sense into Bobby. I head back to my room for what to me is mission impossible.'

In his usual defiant tone, Bobby informs me that he has his lady's room keys and that she wasn't in campus at the time. Can you believe this guy? I'm about to throw a punch but two things hold me back: first, I'm a born-again Christian and restraint is meant to be something I exercise. Second, there were seven of his boys' in the room & I'm definitely

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