Wet hair, warm smiles, and the kind of peace that only hostel memories can give.....
> "Rimjhim gire saawan, sulag sulag jaaye mann..."
Some songs don’t just play in the background....they walk into the room and sit with you like an old friend.
That’s exactly what happened today.
The rain had just started. Outside, the sky turned soft grey. Inside, the first few drops tapped gently on the windowpane, and without warning, they pulled me back to a place I hadn't visited in month : my hostel......
It was just another day with my books, notes, and exam prep in full swing. But the moment that familiar monsoon rhythm started, it brought along memories louder than the thunder.
At home, rain feels quiet....organized. You get chai without asking. You have your own clean space. It’s peaceful, no doubt. But sometimes… too peaceful.
Because there’s no knock on the door from a friend saying “chal, maggi banate hain.”......
No yelling from the corridor because someone slipped.
No “arre light chali gayi kya?” while everyone panics over a charging phone.....
In the hostel, rain wasn’t just weather. It was a celebration.
The kettle that barely worked would suddenly become the center of the universe. Maggi became gourmet food. A soggy biscuit shared between five people tasted better than anything store-bought. We'd sit together on one bed, pretending to study, while secretly waiting for someone to cue up a romantic rain playlist....
And even if you didn’t have a crush....like me....you still found reasons to blush when a love song played....
I never had someone to share an umbrella with. But somehow, I remember feeling every filmy vibe when songs like “Zara zara bheegne do na…” started playing from someone's speaker near the balcony.
Funny how music makes even loneliness feel poetic.
Sometimes, someone from hostel still texts, “Baarish ho rahi hai yaha...” and without thinking, I reply “Idhar bhi.” No explanation. Just shared silence and a soft smile on both sides of the screen....
Rain does that. It makes you miss things you didn’t realize you cared so deeply for. Now, I don’t rush through the day. But I don’t pause too long either. I'm still finding balance....between what I miss and what I’m building. Some days are focused, some are foggy. But that’s okay. I’m learning how to carry both......
I’m still finding my rhythm....between the pressure to move forward and the pull of old memories. Some days are heavy, others feel light. But in between, I’m learning how to carry both and maybe that’s enough for now.....
And maybe that’s what growing up is: Missing the rain from the past, while making space for new stories in the next one.
> "Lag jaa gale ke phir yeh haseen raat ho na ho..."
