The last night at hostel, is an indescribable state of mind. It is too many words, that don't convey enough emotions. It is like the feeling you have after eating till your stomach is about to explode, but still craving for more. It is an avalanche of sentimental thoughts, that is highly overwhelming, and is making your heart swell, like a raisin immersed in water for hours.
The first day you enter that compact room, you are a bottomless pit of questions. How am I going to stay here with two other strangers? What if we don't get along? What if one of them snores? Will we have to take turns getting up early to bathe? How will I ever make friends here? What kind of food will I get here? Will this be like that hostel in Taare Zameen Par? Will I be ragged by seniors? Will I be able to study in this environment? What if I have to take a dump?
The journey begins a bit awkwardly, with way too much formality, with flecks of friendliness. However, before you know it, you are walking everyday to college with them. You are snacking on mathrees that your mother packed for you at midnight with them, and you're borrowing their clothes to wear at parties. They are helping you get ready for the date you've got this evening, and they are gossiping with you about hot seniors. You know the story of their life inside out, like a textbook read a million times, and taking shifts waking up each other at night to study during exams. You are sharing notes like love letters, and letting them try all weird hair and make up experiments on yourself. You are checking out new places around, while making thousands of plans, and roaming unabashedly in a semi-nude state in the room. They are texting people randomly using your phone,or farting noisily in the middle of a serious conversation, and you are only finding all of this ridiculously hilarious and deriving some sick thrill out of all of it.
You are crashing at your friends' room for a night out and the next morning you wake up only to discover that there's no water in the main tank. You are having overnight study sessions in a room crammed up with 6 people, and the hot plate is the world's best invention according to you. Maggi and black coffee are the most comforting foods on the planet, and you can eat milk powder and sugar straight out of the jar, like drugs. The bathroom drain is clogged with hair that all of you would crib, but none would bother to do something about. You are blaming them for being the reason every time you're late for a lecture, and then laughing about it while standing outside the classroom, requesting the professor to take you in. You've developed the superpower to fit in with with 5 other people, on a small bed, made by joining 3 even smaller beds. "Bitch" and "Asshole" are the nicknames you guys are using for each other. Every time there's a knock on the door, the three of you are looking at each other, hoping that anybody but you, would just get the door. They are taking too long in the bathroom, while you are dying outside, thanks to uncontrollable physiological abdominal pressure or bursting bladder.
They are covering up for you every time you lie to your parents, and you are their cornerstone every time they break down. You are watching the stars together at 2a.m. in the night and having deep discussions about life and simultaneously ignoring the boys shouting out to you on the other side of the wall. They can name your favorite songs as fast as they can name all the amino acids, and you know that they'd die rather than eat bhindi. You are keeping an account of every dime you spend and every paisa you owe each other, and celebrating their birthday at midnight by hoisting them in the air, and kicking the crap out of their butts, thanks to the birthday bump ritual. They know about your extended khaandaan and you are borrowing their stuff, as and when you like, without hesitation. The strangers are friends now.
The last night at hostel is when you realize that these friends are family. That all these years would be not what they are, if they wouldn't have been around all this while. That it was these people, that you took every breath of yours with, in the past four years.
The last night at hostel is when you realize, that this is the last night you will be spending in these same walls that you were confined in, all this time, with these people, for the last time.
The last night at hostel is a cocktail of reminiscence and nostalgia, happiness and tears, laughter and selfies, sadness and philosophy, memories and stories.
THE LAST NIGHT AT HOSTEL IS A FEELING. A feeling that is still not sinking in...
The first day you enter that compact room, you are a bottomless pit of questions. How am I going to stay here with two other strangers? What if we don't get along? What if one of them snores? Will we have to take turns getting up early to bathe? How will I ever make friends here? What kind of food will I get here? Will this be like that hostel in Taare Zameen Par? Will I be ragged by seniors? Will I be able to study in this environment? What if I have to take a dump?
The journey begins a bit awkwardly, with way too much formality, with flecks of friendliness. However, before you know it, you are walking everyday to college with them. You are snacking on mathrees that your mother packed for you at midnight with them, and you're borrowing their clothes to wear at parties. They are helping you get ready for the date you've got this evening, and they are gossiping with you about hot seniors. You know the story of their life inside out, like a textbook read a million times, and taking shifts waking up each other at night to study during exams. You are sharing notes like love letters, and letting them try all weird hair and make up experiments on yourself. You are checking out new places around, while making thousands of plans, and roaming unabashedly in a semi-nude state in the room. They are texting people randomly using your phone,or farting noisily in the middle of a serious conversation, and you are only finding all of this ridiculously hilarious and deriving some sick thrill out of all of it.
You are crashing at your friends' room for a night out and the next morning you wake up only to discover that there's no water in the main tank. You are having overnight study sessions in a room crammed up with 6 people, and the hot plate is the world's best invention according to you. Maggi and black coffee are the most comforting foods on the planet, and you can eat milk powder and sugar straight out of the jar, like drugs. The bathroom drain is clogged with hair that all of you would crib, but none would bother to do something about. You are blaming them for being the reason every time you're late for a lecture, and then laughing about it while standing outside the classroom, requesting the professor to take you in. You've developed the superpower to fit in with with 5 other people, on a small bed, made by joining 3 even smaller beds. "Bitch" and "Asshole" are the nicknames you guys are using for each other. Every time there's a knock on the door, the three of you are looking at each other, hoping that anybody but you, would just get the door. They are taking too long in the bathroom, while you are dying outside, thanks to uncontrollable physiological abdominal pressure or bursting bladder.
They are covering up for you every time you lie to your parents, and you are their cornerstone every time they break down. You are watching the stars together at 2a.m. in the night and having deep discussions about life and simultaneously ignoring the boys shouting out to you on the other side of the wall. They can name your favorite songs as fast as they can name all the amino acids, and you know that they'd die rather than eat bhindi. You are keeping an account of every dime you spend and every paisa you owe each other, and celebrating their birthday at midnight by hoisting them in the air, and kicking the crap out of their butts, thanks to the birthday bump ritual. They know about your extended khaandaan and you are borrowing their stuff, as and when you like, without hesitation. The strangers are friends now.
The last night at hostel is when you realize that these friends are family. That all these years would be not what they are, if they wouldn't have been around all this while. That it was these people, that you took every breath of yours with, in the past four years.
The last night at hostel is when you realize, that this is the last night you will be spending in these same walls that you were confined in, all this time, with these people, for the last time.
The last night at hostel is a cocktail of reminiscence and nostalgia, happiness and tears, laughter and selfies, sadness and philosophy, memories and stories.
THE LAST NIGHT AT HOSTEL IS A FEELING. A feeling that is still not sinking in...
