Skip to main content

Spoiled at home, seasoned in hostel

 Okay, confession time.

Never in my life had I travelled alone in public transport. Never bought a bus ticket either.

Not because I didn’t want to. I just... never had to. Life didn’t give me that moment.


Till 12th, I was a proud school bus member. One fixed seat, same bus aunty, and a backpack that held more dreams than books.

When we went out, I’d always pester mom — “Let’s go home, pleaseee!”

Seriously, hats off to my extrovert mumma. She’s been handling me like a pro all these years.


Being a single child is a full-time main character job.

I had my own little kingdom at home.

My parents didn’t need to scold me — I was already doing things on time, neatly, like a mini perfectionist.

They’d get me stuff before I even asked for it.

I didn’t cry for chocolates or toys — mostly because I already had what I needed (and also because crying was too much work).


Basically, I was their adorable, low-maintenance, overthinking, introverted child. And they loved it.


But life has plot twists.


Now I’m living 240 km away from home. In a hostel.

Okay yes, not that far. But for a homesick, emotionally-attached, single child like me — it’s a BIG leap.


I remember the first time I had to wash clothes.

Had zero clue. My friends had to guide me step by step like I was defusing a bomb.

Fast forward to now — I can sort, soak, scrub, and spin like a pro.

Someone put “Laundry Queen” on my resume, please.


Hostel taught me things no school or textbook could.

How to handle people with different mindsets.

How to manage chores on zero motivation.

How to laugh through homesickness, and find joy in little things — like chai at 4 PM or a shared packet of chips.


It’s been 1.5 years now.

I’ve grown emotionally, mentally (and maybe gained a kilo or two).

But most importantly, I’ve grown independent.


Life’s weird — you never know what’s waiting for you next.

But trust me, even the unexpected chapters help you become the best version of yourself.

Keep every lesson close — good, bad, embarrassing. One day, they’ll all make sense and help you bloom.

Until then, embrace your chaos. You’re doing better than you think!


Keep growing, keep glowing, and never underestimate your strength — especially if you’ve ever hand-washed your jeans in winter.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Chickenpox Diaries: 19 Days of Forced “Me-Time”

  Everything happens for a reason, right? Well, life just gave me 19 days of chickenpox leave, and trust me—it was not the kind of vacation anyone would ask for. The first 4 days? Literal hell. Couldn’t even sip water without wincing, throat burning like fire, body screaming with pain. To top it off—full-time isolation in my room. 24×7. I used to check the mirror every day, hoping the blisters would heal fast. But honestly, though I always had clear skin, I didn’t even get sad about the “connect-the-dots puzzle” on my face. My only prayer was to get rid of the throat pain and weakness. And don’t even get me started on the bland food—life had lost all taste. From day 5, things started getting better—pain faded, blisters began drying, and I could finally feel human again. But while I was fighting pox in my room, my class was living in a mini drama series. I left on a Monday after the 2nd period (two blisters + fever + body ache gave me away), and the very next day panic spread becaus...
Post a Comment
Read more

A Weed and a Whole Lotta Wisdom

 We’ve always heard it—“there’s something to learn from everything in the universe.” And guess what? Even a weed teaches us something. Think about it. A weed? Grows on its own. Needs no fertilizers, no pesticides. Stands tall, strong, independent. A self-made lady, honestly. And what do we humans do? Uproot her. Why? Because we think she’s "useless." She’s a weed—not a flower in anyone’s vase, but a wild one who never asked for space and still found a way to grow :) But who really is? Let’s take a moment to salute her—Miss Weed. She’s not dependent. She doesn’t care for your validation. She thrives anyway. Now contrast that with us humans. We build bonds, trust people, and end up accidentally depending on them. It’s a social phenomenon, right? But when the thread of trust breaks—it’s broken. Even if we tie it back, that scar? It stays. A constant reminder of the snap. And that’s where our inner trauma kicks in. The fear of being bandaged again holds us back from trusting anyo...
Post a Comment
Read more

“This is your sign: being you is more than enough.”

 If you were the quiet kid growing up—the one who avoided group photos, spoke in whispers, and got asked “Why are you always so serious?”—then congratulations, we might be long-lost twins. See, being an introvert isn’t just a personality type. It’s a full-time job. Especially when society hands out badges of honor to the loudest kid in class and treats silence like a social disease. As a kid, people were always like, "Why doesn't she smile more?"—and clearly, none of them had ever heard of a resting face.I wasn’t shy—I was selectively social. Being decent in academics? Great. But if you lack social skills? Life becomes a level-99 difficulty mode. To make it worse, childhood is that beautiful time when people think mocking kids is a form of love. They’d point out everything: my teeth, my weight, my silence. As if I was a walking review page. “Can’t smile properly.” “Too quiet.” “Looks sad even while eating snacks.” Bro, I was just existing. Honestly, for some adults, teasi...
2 comments
Read more