On my friend’s suggestion, I thought of writing on something that I have a real connect with. So I chose my hostel life. I think hostel life was one of the greatest character building exercises I have undergone. I would recommend it for all!
All of the incidents described actually took place. My memory is not the best, so forgive me if I took a few liberties, where the memories were a little too hazy for me!
I joined the hostel two months into my school term. It was my first time living away from home, and I was pretty excited! It was a preparatory residential school which had 11th and 12th standard classes, and also prepared them for various entrance exams, Medical and engineering.
My father left me there on a Sunday evening and my eyes welled up for a bit, and that evening dinner at the mess was lonely. But I soon composed myself.
The living arrangements were 8 people to a room. Considering that the room was 200 sq ft in area, it seems dingy, but it was actually quite fun. My bed was attached to a window, which overlooked the airport runway that was a stone’s throw away from our campus. That night was spent in making acquaintances with my new roomies.
Six of the eight beds were filled. I was the seventh. I was informed that many had occupied the other two beds, but no man survived. They either left from being too homesick, or changed rooms. Among the other six, four of them were childhood buddies and were in school together. The fifth was a goon, and his contacts came in handy at times. The other was a new admit, who had come just hours ahead of me.
The others briefed us on the rules and regulations, and timings of all meals and classes. It was all new and exciting for me. A little too exciting. They told me how they had covered a vast portion of the syllabus and I would not cope up, how I should go back home and try out for a school there. Luckily, I held my nerve and thought logically. How far behind could I be? There had been only 6 weeks worth of classes that I missed.
Much, much later, my roomies candidly admitted that they actually wanted to get rid of me and the new guy! They had been successful till then, managing to keep their room strength to only 5.
Anyway. That night, I lay in bed, gazing at the runway lights from my window, eyes wide open in excitement, I was not homesick. I was looking forward to the two years that lay ahead.
Next morning, I was up at 5. The normal procedure was that floor coordinators woke us up at 5.30. Down the line, when we set into the routine, this wake up call would be resented the most! They used to make the aluminium latches bang against the wooden doors, all the while screaming “wake up wake up wake up !!”. The hair on the nape of my neck still stands, recollecting those screeches!
6 am was assembly, breakfast at 6.30 in the mess, classes from 7. When we became regulars, wake up was at 6.15, breakfast at 6.30 when the mess doors were flung open, and prayers were reserved for special occasions like football matches and exam results!
poori subzi once more, get a dosa just like that, taste that parota and curry one last time!
Until next time…