It was around 11 in the night. I was returning to my
room when suddenly I heard a whistle and with it all my obtuseness evaporated.
Manju ma’am*, our implacable warden was out and with it I got the signal to go
out of her coverage area. After all, Roaming out in the hostel compound after 9
was strictly restrained. And bending the rules resulted into ‘Main parents ko call karungi’ dhamkis.
Having no place to go, I hid myself in one of the several dark washrooms on the
ground floor. A couple of minutes passed and the washroom door was smoothly
opened. Timorous, I was about to shout when a girl took hold of my wrist and
told me to keep quiet. It was later that I understood she was my partner in
crime…oh! That day, unfortunately our warden didn’t go to sleep for so long and
I stood with that girl inside the dark washroom for an hour or more until the
time we finally managed to bump into our respective rooms. So, unromantic!
So, such is my hostel life. This is the 6th
year and presently I am dwelling in my 6th hostel-cum-PG which is
giving me a miniature world in itself. Well, Girls hostel is an amalgamation of
drama, craziness, hormones, tampons, and laughter. I have to say, moving from
the comfort of your comfortable, warm home, with home cooked food and
continuous water to the psychotic bubble i.e. the girl’s hostel is tough, but
jubilant.
‘Please collect your hairs after the hair wash’,’
don’t pile up your dirty garments in washroom’, ‘Please flush’,’ Don’t tell me
you used my shampoo?’ oh! Mornings are a constant fight for shower time, and
when you finally do get 5 seconds of peace under the lukewarm jets of the
shower, someone else is already banging on the door! I lived for 2 years in a hostel wherein you
don’t get water in your bathroom and even toilets, it’s only the 6-7 am time
wherein water comes in a designated area and you need to fill your buckets.
Just imagine how we managed! Let me add,
there are also those unhygienic eerie girls who forget to dispose off their
used sanitary pads lying in the washroom.(Should I mention that I WAS one of
them!)
‘Freedom’ –
unreserved, utterly blissful freedom is what you get in hostel. The thrill of
this freedom acts as adrenaline and helps many in getting a taste of what life
really is all about. But who knew the hostel freedom ends at 9 in the night!? I
was in 12th std. when I was dwelling in the ‘Sweet Home’ PG. It
happened one day that I and my bestie Mangi were out to buy a cake for a friend’s
birthday. Those were the times when the sole purpose of our life was to roam
aimlessly and to eat endlessly. Not bothering about the time, we returned that
night back only after our roaming quota was successfully satisfied. We both
were already a pain in our warden’s butt from past 1 year and so; guess what
she did …oh yes! We were thrown out of that PG the very next day! Literally!
When you are in hostel there is always someone to
catch you when you fall. Always. I remember the days when I was suffering from
chicken pox. The whole day I lay in bed torpid with the ugly boils spread all
over my body and with the dialogues (Monologues instead!) ‘Aisa mere sath hi kyo
hota hai?’ , ‘I have lost my beauty , now who will marry me!?’ …my roommates
were stolid towards me as they were used to my over acting, over reaction, over
confidence, over excitement…and many such other ‘over’s’ ! it was on the 2nd
day that my solicitous roommate kinjal dragged me to a doctor, offered me a pep
talk and assured me that my face will gradually turn clean, my boils will soon
disappear and further to lighten my mood she took me for a movie when my body
was enervating and my looks could compete with any bhayankar pari. But guess what, after the movie only the boils
remained, not the pain!
Expanded wardrobes are another benefit of being in a
hostel. While you get free consultancy from girls whenever you want .And there
is always a makeup expert who can make you run away ready on your special
occasions. But such experts may ruin you too. Well, it was Rachna who was
learning to do all the parlour stuffs and when she glanced at my curly dry
hairs she suggested me a good haircut. Getting wooed I allowed her to
experiment on my hairs. At night all was ok but in the morning while I glanced
in the mirror I knew that I looked no
less than the female version of ‘Tere naam’s Salmaan khan. Clips, pins, bow,
rubber, hair bands nothing worked…Alas! For the next 15 days no one could save
me from HAIRrassment! Lesson of the day, Hostel experts can be fallacious. Take
care.
‘Bhel’ is an inevitable part of any hostel life, I
suppose. Those late night munches do test your sanguinity especially when you
go around knocking nearby doors just to get tomatoes and onion for your bhel. Ahh! From cheating boyfriends and girlfriends
to movies that make you cry, everything was discussed over the ‘Bhel sessions’.
Not washing those dirty dishes and getting a good dose from the warden the very
next day were the other outcomes of eating bhel.
‘Di you lip kissed your boyfriend. So, didn’t you get
pregnant, huh?’ I asked ( so novice) one of my hostel mates while she was
narrating her 1st dating experience with the 3rd
boy.
While I was waiting for an answer, everyone busted
into laughter. They later, made me to see an adult film, seeing which I got
Goosebumps, I froze and finally I vomited! I guess every hostel has that share
of (experienced) elder didi’s who could be consulted free of charge for any of
your love or sex issues. You get the best ‘sex education’ classes in hostel. (The
policy of ‘Sharing Knowledge’ is best followed.)
It gives you colossal life experience as you meet tons
of different kinds of people and amongst the cat fights, tears, and laughter
you learn how to effectively deal with them. I have fresh experience of having
a south Indian (Shravni) and an Indori(Bonu) as my roomies. While we converse ,Shravni
suddenly slips to Tamil while I out of nowhere
start speaking my pet kathivadi dialogues all of which confuses us for a
jiffy and then makes both of melt into laughter but Amongst all these the most
miserable experience happens with Bonu , Bichari she knows only hindi!! On the
other side, eating the south Indian pickles, sweets, potato shells, or
listening to Shravni’s native land’s stories in exchange of my mom-made gathiya and chakri ;indeed gave me an limpid
experience of ‘Cross cultural living
place’.
You get pampered when you go home. You become the
priority over those siblings still living at home, you start valuing ghar ka
khanna,’ Kadki times’-the times when you have your pockets empty and you get
those interest free loans through which Survival is possible till you get the
next allowance! …and The tradition of wishing someone at 12 am sharp is also
something which I learnt only the day when I was done with 16 years of my life.
My roommates started singing vociferous birthday songs and gifted me a huge
Laughing Buddha so that I can always compare that who is funnier amongst us..!
Further there is a
ridiculous amount of gossip. You can’t escape it no matter how hard you try. The
ubiquitous ‘Gossip Girls’ don’t spare you. They go by the rule ‘Either a girl
has a boyfriend or a Girlfriend’. A girl’s hostel is better than any social
networking sites we have.(Tried and Tested)
I know ye ‘Ander
ki baat hai’ but Having your Under Garments’ stolen while you just hanged
them on the rack is possible by all means! (‘Bring back our UG’s!’-should we do
a dharna for it?!)
Hostel life memories are like a permanent hangover of
a temporary time. Oops! I will say those philosophical bhari concluding lines about hostel life some other day …as it’s
already 1 am and a bhel session is
about to begin in the room no. ‘304’!
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