For the zillionth time that night, I bolted up from bed and went to open the door only to see a random person who had just come to say a ‘Hi!’; some
For the zillionth time that night, I bolted up from bed and went to open the door only to see a random person who had just come to say a ‘Hi!’; something that I have never been used to. People alive and awake till the wee hours, a random slang being amplified through the length of the empty corridor, a student or two strutting around with laptops in their hand and sleep in their eyes, and every second person with a plastic bottle headed towards the water cooler – the perfect description of a guys’ hostel.
A newbie in this respect, although I am going on 25 (above the class average in something at least), it did not take me much time to get accustomed to this life. It is quite different I have to agree, especially when you have to stay with people from all over India, each with their own nuances and idiosyncrasies. Born and brought up in the City of Joy, exposure to non-Bongs has not really been my cup of tea for the initial twenty three years of my life. Two years of IT work experience in a city like Bangalore has taught me how to sleep with my eyes open and wait for that long-awaited Friday night rather than really mix and mingle with different people. So this is new for me, where I have to keep my eyes open lest a normal distribution curve ends up seeming abnormal at the end of the day, and where there is no concept of a weekend.
If you ask me how it turned out to be, I would describe it in one word which my friend uses emphatically – ‘Out-Standing’. We bongs, especially Calcuttans, are a prejudiced lot. So, before we even get to know the person we tend to form a prior opinion. Needless to say, we are wrong most of the times, and hence, certain prejudices I had went for a complete toss. The people with whom I least expected to get along with have actually become the ones with whom I can see a certain frequency match. For the first time I’m seeing a amalgamation of cultures – Delhi, Gujarat, Goa, Assam, Orissa, Tamil Nadu, UP, Kerala, Andhra, Nepal, the local Marathi and all the way to Kuwait, each with their own ‘alag-scene’.
The Mess (correctly coined by some genius) is absolutely in a ‘mess’ most of the days and to beat it, we have our very own Bala, who takes absolute advantage of the situation and provides shelter and arguably very tasty food to people like us, who look at the mess food and do an about turn at the drop of a hat. Quite a nice place to catch a bite when you have those pangs of hunger, which if gone unfulfilled, is bound to give you a tough night of sleep. It’s like a paradise to people who walk in through the gates proclaiming they love everyone (read really drunk) and would be ready to sell their kidney for some chicken!
I complete a little over two months as of today, and it has been a tiresome, sleep-deprived two months. Late night assignments, a cigarette with a few people beside the water cooler, zigzag walks along the corridor after a night of revelry at the local ‘Tamanna’,‘Laxmi Palace’ or ‘81x’, laughing away to glory at random jokes and at the same time having serious conversations have defined my roller-coaster ride these two months. It’s true – Whatever happens in D-Hostel, stays in D-Hostel. I never thought I would use this word, but honestly, after getting to know different people and spending most of my time with them, I can safely say that the atmosphere I live in now is really ‘chill’!
Contribution by Anirban Mukherjee- MBA International Business (2013-15).