Warmth... in a cold country

THE first person to put up with me in Bournemouth was Prasanna, a warm-hearted computer science student fast disappearing under the rigours of his course. He had made the mistake of answering one of my pleas on the university’s student message board, and I promptly latched on to him.

He lives in a two-storeyed house, roomy but weeping under the onslaught of eight students: seven Indians and one Turk. A hurricane had obviously finished a striptease there just as I arrived. It had also visited the kitchen for a quick meal before leaving by the back door.

Despite the situation, Prasanna and his friends -- Girish, Navin, Phani, Janardhan, et al -- went out of their way to make me feel at home.

“You can stay here if you like,” Prasanna said. “If you don’t, take your time to find a good place. No hurry.”

David Bradshaw of the Bournemouth Media School, one of my supervisors, was similarly helpful. There is a spare room at home, he said, and he certainly could put me up till I found a place.

Fortunately I didn’t have to bother him. I was able to move into a cosy room in about a week. Nonetheless, his and Prasanna’s offers were touching -- welcome warmth in a cold country.