6:25 am. You glance at your watch for the fifth time this morning and realize that it’s awfully early to be stranded at a noisy railway station. You’ve just gotten off the train with your parents, and for some reason, the 3 suitcases lugging behind you feel like they’ve been stuffed to the brim with bricks. Mom packed an insane amount of luggage, didn’t she?
“Well, it’s only a few more hours, then I’ll be free,” you think to yourself. You decide to take a deep breath and study the scenery before you — humans scuttling around, some chilling on the platform floor, others channeling their inner Usain Bolt to catch the gleaming hunks of metal known as trains. Your observations are interrupted by a strange aroma invading your nostrils. You turn around swiftly to locate its source. It’s the unmistakable, enticing scent of dhokla. After all, the sign at the railway station does say “Surat”.
After a 9-minute bargain session, the driver finally accepts defeat before your mother’s unparalleled persuasion skills. You squeeze into the auto-rickshaw with your parents and set out to a funny-sounding place called Ichhanath. You sputter through the city and soon, pull up to a giant blue and white gate. You stick your neck outside and look up at the majestic silver letters, strewn across a blue background: “Sardar Vallabhbhai National Institute of Technology, Surat.” You’re finally here.
As your father fills out the details in the security register, one of the guards looks you in the eyes with a very disturbing smile. You make a mental note to avoid the college guards. College always sounded like a dream world, and now that you’ve been granted passage into this mystical land, the excitement simmering within starts to violently boil. You can’t wait to start and you intend to make the most of your time here. You also intend to become one of those cool, college studs you’ve always seen in the movies, basically worshipped by his peers. Oh, and not to mention, an irresistible chick magnet. Your sumptuous fantasies of college stardom are cut short by your father’s two-word remark: “We’re here”.
You step outside, stretch your limbs, and take a deep breath of fresh Gajjar air. You hope that this place will have comfortable rooms where you can spend the first year of your new-found freedom partying, gaming, and living it up. YOLO, right? The security guard here seems incredibly exhausted. It must be a tough job dealing with so many parents and answering questions every 5 seconds. You grab your suitcase and sling your backpack over your shoulder. They seem lighter already.
As you lug your suitcase up the stairs, you wonder why the hostel even has elevators if they don’t work. Are they just showpieces, relics of a bygone era, or simply habitats for an assortment of bugs and crawly creatures? You make another mental note to ask someone about the fake elevators. As you climb up, your nostrils are flooded with a putrid scent that makes you gag and almost puke. Finally, you reach the fourth floor of this majestic residence and proceed to locate your room. Your mother leads the way enthusiastically, almost skipping down the hallways.
As you reach the end of the D-wing hallway, you finally see it come into light. “D-421”. You knock politely on the door. The door swings open, revealing a skinny young man with his hand thrust out for a good old-fashioned handshake. This specimen is your new roommate. “Namaste uncle, namaste aunty, I’m Raunak,” he says with a beaming smile. The room is already neatly organized — actually, a bit too neatly organized for your liking. As your parents make small talk with Raunak, you inspect your new room. Your mother swiftly unpacks the luggage and items spring out one by one. Some are neatly placed into the wardrobe, some adorned on your new desk, and the rest, simply stuffed under the large plank of wood and metal that is currently your bed.
As your parents step outside to perform a shopping spree, you march down the stairs with your new best friend to silence your rumbling stomach. There are a few other kids sitting with their parents, trying to eat over the sound of their mothers’ lectures about how they should live in the hostel. After sipping some piping hot tea, you and Raunak return to a fully furnished room. You chat with your future bestie for a while and then doze off. You wake up to a ringing smartphone and see 14 missed calls from your mom. You call her back, get a 10-minute scolding served to you on a silver platter, and then get summoned to the college main gate. Your parents are leaving.
Soon, you bid goodbye to the couple who raised you since your birth and realize how much they truly care about you. You start to feel a lump growing in your throat and realize how much you will miss being with them. After a tear-jerking farewell, fit to feature on the silver screen, you begin the long walk back to your hostel. As you trudge through the campus, you finally comprehend what just happened. You’re alone now. Sure, you’ll be free, but your parents won’t be there to look after you anymore; they’ve gone back home — the home where you will now be a visitor. You decide to shove these thoughts into a corner of your mind and instead, with a geeky smile on your face, go back to fantasizing about being the popular dude in college.
SUMANT S. DANGI
Chief Editor, Renesa
This article was originally written for and published on Renesa – The Official Media and Publication House of NIT Surat. It was featured in the 2020 Farewell Edition of Renesa’s official magazine.
