I have never been away from my parents in my twenty years of life which means I had my share of pampering and restrictions all through my life. When I stepped into the hostel for the first time, I felt I was gaining something- the freedom but I didn’t have the faintest idea of what I was losing, the due realization of which struck my head a few days later. OK, it’s a hostel, which means a myriad of people and a plethora of experiences, one of which is about to flow from the bottom of my heart…
The great family-free morning arrived and I got up…really late. I checked the time- 7:30 am. “Oh my god”, I realized “time to have my breakfast in the mess”. I jumped from my bed and sprinted into the common bathroom, only to find my hostel mates brushing their teeth, occupying all the wash basins. Time ticked by and I had to wait for my turn to do the teeth-cleaning. Later, I rushed back to my room, picked up my bucket and clothes and came back to the bathroom for a bath, only to see a long queue of girls, standing with colorful buckets and equally colorful towels and waiting for their turn patiently. I was instantly frustrated (no surprises there) and was cursing Time which moved on and on, as if it was chased by a mad dog. I took a quick bath [a sympathetic gesture towards the other girls;)] and rushed into my room. It was 8:30 am. I dressed up and picked up my coffee mug and ran towards the mess. Alas! There was a bigger queue waiting in front of the mess door waiting for their share of hot breakfast. A bigger queue than that would be in front of a blockbuster movie. Suddenly fear gripped me and I prayed to the Almighty to help me out of the horrifying situation. I was terribly late. I realized that I had to choose from the two options available- skip the breakfast and reach the class on time or eat to my heart’s content and skip the class. I felt like Abhimanyu in Mahabaharat, stuck in a chakravyooh of Time. How I wish I could stop the time, I wondered. Finally, after the ritualistic lip-chewing and nail-biting, I decided to skip the breakfast but as I said, Time was playing games with me. I rushed to the general store and ate biscuits on the way, cursing the Time. Suddenly I wondered, “I was never late when I was at home. In fact, I was appreciated by my lecturers for my punctuality. Why am I late now?” and then I reeled back to the days at home- Mom woke me up at 6:30 am (I get up at 7:30), brushed my teeth, Mom gave coffee, read news paper, Mom pressed the clothes, Mom gave hot water for bath, Mom prepared breakfast, Mom fed me almost everyday and I catch a bus and travel half an hour and reach college on time. And BAM!! The truth hit me hard. Of course, there was more of Mom, less of me. And as if Buddha had his revelation under a tree, I had this striking revelation near one of the dustbins on my way. I composed myself to work out everything from the next day. It wasn’t easy. And today I can say that I do all my work on time with little bit of planning (and a lot of grunts) and I’m never late again.
Let me tell you, hostel sure gives you independence but teaches you responsibility. And today, Time is my best friend:)