book

THIS FLAT IS OUR FLAT
Dimly lit, sparsely furnished and
small – this was flat number 14
when I walked in for the first time.
Accepting this new reality, I entered
my room. My parents were with me
surveying the place like I was.
I can live here, I thought, confident in my independence.
It’s not until those last ‘goodbye’s and ‘have fun’s that it sank in –
I was in a strange place, with utter strangers.
I’d heard plenty about hostel life from my older sister. But I
guess it’s fair to say there is a great difference between living
in a dormitory on a campus crawling with twenty thousand
something students and this, here.
I suppose the first thing that struck me about my situation
was the sheer unfamiliarity. The bed was different, the air was
constantly warm and humid, the water (dear God, this water)
was bitter – there’s no end to the things I started to point out.
Nothing was the same as it was back home and it got a little
overwhelming in the beginning – homesickness was an
eventuality. But then I saw the flip side. This was not a time
for uncertainty, this was a chance to be truly independent and
put my upbringing to the test.
Today, as I write this, it is nearly sixteen months since that
first, unnerving day – and heavens, it’s been a journey. There
have been great times, some average times and some
downright unpleasant times that threaten to drive a person up
many a wall. Every part of it has become a memory.