Excitement, anxiety, curiosity, every emotion was at its peak the day they left me standing there with my luggage and a neat little list of rules to follow. It felt like the beginning of something big. I didn’t realize then that this “detour” from home would quietly shape me into who I am today.
That was the phase of my life when I truly learned to survive and I say that with a smile. Not because it was harsh, but because it taught me resilience, strength, and self-belief in the most memorable ways.
Leaving home for the first time, I was filled with eagerness to make new friends, discover what I loved, study independently, make my own decisions, walk alone with confidence, travel with courage… everything felt new and exciting. Independence wasn’t just a word; it was an adventure.
At that tender age, boarding school felt like a dream come true. I had wanted it so badly, and I remain deeply grateful to my grandfather for giving me that opportunity. What I didn’t know then was how beautifully transformative it would be.
Yes, there were moments of ragging “for our own good,” strict rules, loud scolding, and disciplined routines. But today, they feel less like hardships and more like sweet memories wrapped in laughter. Those experiences didn’t break me, they built me. They taught me friendship, respect, adaptability, and the value of home.
Looking back, it was never about just surviving. It was about growing, bonding, laughing, learning, and becoming stronger, all within walls that once felt unfamiliar but soon became a second home.
And honestly, I wouldn’t trade that chapter of my life for anything.
Let me share a few chapters from that beautiful book of my life. I call it a book because every page carried a lesson, and every chapter quietly built a stronger version of me.
First Day, that serene evening, a loud yet cheerful voice called out, “Hello! Have you settled your stuff?”
I gently nodded, “Yes.”
“Then let’s go, what are you waiting for?”
As a fresher, I was amazed. My senior was taking me on a tour! Poor innocent me. :P
It wasn’t a tour.. it was my first step into one of life’s greatest lessons: adjusting with strangers who soon become family.
She led me to her room shared by five others. I became the sixth member of “Room 5.” And just like that, my hostel journey began.
Being petite was never my choice. I was asked to shut the door and latch it. I stretched… and stretched… and failed. Up I went again, still no luck. Finally, I dragged a chair to complete the mission. Orders followed, laughter echoed, and I complied like an obedient junior.
She teased, “Seems like someone hasn’t tasted pulses in childhood!”
I was stunned. How did she know I survived on vegetables and ate dal only under my mom’s watchful stare? Did my mom secretly brief her? Or did my tiny frame give me away? I simply shrugged and smiled.
Little did I know that smile would sign me up for a lifetime supply of dal. From that day onward, a generous serving of pulses found its way onto my plate at every meal, no excuses, no escape. And guess what? I finished it.
What felt like playful teasing slowly became care in disguise. What seemed like strictness turned into nourishment, literally and emotionally. Without realizing it, I learned to eat better, grow stronger, and laugh at myself along the way.
The same evening, a bit towards darkness, We had visitors in our room, curious minds clearly at work. They were quietly confiding in one another, as if guarding a delicious little secret. I tiptoed in, wrapped myself in a blanket, and sat observing them, choosing not to overanalyze or intrude on whatever mysterious planning was underway.
Suddenly, I heard my name.
“S, are you a guest in this room? If not, come here and participate.”
Participate? In what exactly?
Was this some secret fresher ritual? A surprise welcome party for me and my batchmates? My imagination, as always, began sprinting ahead of reality. And yes, once again, my overthinking gave me the scare of my life.
They were preparing for a “Spirit Call.”
Wow!!!
The confidence they had in my participation, I must say, was impressive. :) haha
I will never forget my first day of hostel. After all the drama, laughter, and suspense, everyone slowly dispersed, and so was I, assuming the evening had concluded.
But the voice returned.
“Hello! Where are you going? Did you bump your head or misplace your brain? You’re staying in Room 5 from now on, with us.” oh my!!!!
And just like that, I was formally introduced to all my roomies.
I missed my own bed that night. But more importantly, I learned something far more valuable: always be prepared for the unexpected, because sometimes the unexpected turns into the most unforgettable chapter of your life.
My fondness for the three musketeers grew quietly but deeply, until one day I realized I couldn’t imagine hostel life without them. From pampered afternoons filled with chatter to strict evening study hours that demanded discipline, I slowly adjusted, adapted, and embraced the rhythm. Hostel wasn’t just a place anymore, it was alive.
Daisynani, Lipinani, and Juli-bayani-nani became my three lifelines, my guardians, my voice, and my vision. They didn’t just guide me; they shaped me. Every challenge they threw my way turned into an opportunity to learn. Every correction carried intention.
Lipinani was strict.
Daisynani - even stricter.
But behind that firmness was fierce protection. They stood up for me, debated over my well-being, and wrapped me in warmth whenever I needed it most. Julinani, on the other hand or as I lovingly tease her, Juli-bayani-nani was pure charm. A complete nutcase in the best possible way… though I must whisper that carefully, or the other two might send me back to the griller!
From being scolded for not standing up for myself, to almost facing Lipinani’s fiery glare for politely accepting “gratitude” from someone unworthy… to Daisynani and me being thoroughly lectured for accepting and finishing chocolates from the wrong person; every dramatic episode carried a powerful lesson.
In their own unique, intense, and sometimes hilarious ways, they taught me self-worth. They taught me boundaries. They taught me to hold my head high and never settle for less than I deserved.
Simple lessons, delivered in unforgettable ways, that I carry with me even today.
I owe so much of who I am to them. And I owe equal gratitude to my parents and family, who trusted the journey and allowed me to learn survival on my own terms.
Maybe that’s what shaped the stronger person I am today.
Hostel life was never just about rules and routines. It was affection hidden within discipline, protection disguised as strictness, friendships built in shared spaces, and lessons served generously with laughter.
And looking back now, I realize, I wasn’t just surviving.
I was growing, glowing, and becoming.
