Finally stole some moments to retrace the steps.....
So the rickshaw started trudging towards bus stand. My little luggage tied behind the seat. A folding bed, mattress, pillow,, some sheets and a trunk full of clothes and toiletries. I am sitting quietly like a mouse, beside my father, a gentle lion. I feel sad.... Leaving the protection of the house. I am in early teens, have lived a protected life so far... Now I must survive on my own in this big world. I feel so insecure... Really. I don't like to go away from home and stay in hostel and study! Sounds depressing already. :)
So we are in the bus and father notices another father - daughter duo like us, carrying similar luggage. So he says to me that he is sure that they are also traveling to the same destination. And yes ! When we alighted at the bus stand of the city which was to be my "home" for next few years, there were two rickshaws one after the other, going towards the same hostel.
The hostel seemed quiet and gloomy. The girl alighted from the rickshaw and smiled at me. We were taken to meet the warden and given the same room to share. So we carried our luggage to the room and our fathers left. I felt so alone.... As if today some invisible cord with the home had been cut. And why? Because I was expected to become a doctor. But I didn't like this place. The small rooms, dark corridors, unfamiliar faces..... One could sense the stress of study in the air.
My elder sister was already in the hostel. She was two years senior to me. But a sister in hostel and a sister at home are two different things. She was supportive but I was so unhappy to stay here. I missed home so much ! Many girls in the class were happy to have the freedom to live independently but I missed the atmosphere of love and a childhood left behind....
On the very first evening I saw my roommate sitting on bed opposite me and crying silently. When she saw I noticed this, she smiled at me. I felt I was brave because I was not crying. But then the ever growing feeling of loneliness and unhappiness that gnawed at me forever, made me think it is okay to let go sometimes and what better way to do some "cleaning inside" than the feel of warm tears on the cheeks ! So I figured it was actually useful too. :)
So the rickshaw started trudging towards bus stand. My little luggage tied behind the seat. A folding bed, mattress, pillow,, some sheets and a trunk full of clothes and toiletries. I am sitting quietly like a mouse, beside my father, a gentle lion. I feel sad.... Leaving the protection of the house. I am in early teens, have lived a protected life so far... Now I must survive on my own in this big world. I feel so insecure... Really. I don't like to go away from home and stay in hostel and study! Sounds depressing already. :)
So we are in the bus and father notices another father - daughter duo like us, carrying similar luggage. So he says to me that he is sure that they are also traveling to the same destination. And yes ! When we alighted at the bus stand of the city which was to be my "home" for next few years, there were two rickshaws one after the other, going towards the same hostel.
The hostel seemed quiet and gloomy. The girl alighted from the rickshaw and smiled at me. We were taken to meet the warden and given the same room to share. So we carried our luggage to the room and our fathers left. I felt so alone.... As if today some invisible cord with the home had been cut. And why? Because I was expected to become a doctor. But I didn't like this place. The small rooms, dark corridors, unfamiliar faces..... One could sense the stress of study in the air.
My elder sister was already in the hostel. She was two years senior to me. But a sister in hostel and a sister at home are two different things. She was supportive but I was so unhappy to stay here. I missed home so much ! Many girls in the class were happy to have the freedom to live independently but I missed the atmosphere of love and a childhood left behind....
On the very first evening I saw my roommate sitting on bed opposite me and crying silently. When she saw I noticed this, she smiled at me. I felt I was brave because I was not crying. But then the ever growing feeling of loneliness and unhappiness that gnawed at me forever, made me think it is okay to let go sometimes and what better way to do some "cleaning inside" than the feel of warm tears on the cheeks ! So I figured it was actually useful too. :)
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