From Wait List to Wonderland

Sixteen odd years of dreaming, 20 days of anxiously waiting for the wait list status to move, 839 kilometers of a bus ride and seven luggage bags later, I found myself standing in front of the KMC girls’ hostel. I was living my dream, being one day away from actually attending a medical college. I was happy, excited and ready for a new beginning but I was also nervous enough to bite my nails, which were enjoying their last manicure. I’d missed 20 days of classes, subjects which I’d never studied before. I was going to live in a hostel with people who I’d never met. I never felt so blank. And I thought the tension would end after my wait list number came up for admission!

Day one, Sukanya, another newbie, carried two of my huge bags into the room, as if they were weightless. That was a sigh of assurance for my Grandma who was worried about leaving me away from home for the first time. Sherin, my genius of a roommate, welcomed me with a sweet smile and took me book shopping, all of it done very quietly. Hostel felt like home and even the bland, watery Sāmbhar couldn’t make me cry.

Day two, my first day of medical school. I was excited. That’s when my happy bubble burst, in the first class of the day. ANATOMY! Watching The Exorcist or Jaws didn’t scare me as much as a class on the Deltoid Muscle did. That was enough to depress me for a lifetime! What if I flunked? Sitting in the mess to have lunch, I noticed that everybody was sitting in huge groups and laughing heartily. I felt left out. I had no friends! Everybody had already formed groups and I felt there was no vacancy.

Day three, my loneliness got lost somewhere on the way to Surathkal. It was a day with the seniors! The Telugu Meet was the best thing that could possibly happen on a weekend. The totally affable seniors drove away all my apprehensions. We celebrated the breaking of the ice on the beach and later, with ice cream at Pabba’s. End of the day, I knew I had a big family of my own in Mangalore too. Day four, I realized how my life in KMC felt so much like a muscle curve with multiple successive stimuli. There were times when I was ecstatic and times when I felt sunken. But there was a tingling sensation in me all the time which felt magical. KMC was my life’s fairy tale. I knew I belonged here and no other place could ever be meant for me. People get high on prohibited substances, on sweets… I’m high on KMC!!

Written by: Manognya Chekragari

Edited by: Anirudh Chand

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