22 August 2026, around 7 p.m., I was sitting in my hostel room, a tiara on my head, looking into the mirror. Was I happy? Yes. Was I happy because of the tiara? Also yes. But was I happy just because of the tiara? No. It was more than that. When the whole Freshers' Week thing had begun, I had absolutely no interest in participating. I was more excited about all the tasks and pending work I would finally get done once the week ended, especially since half the batch was going home for Rakhi. I had already planned to glue myself to a library chair. As I wasn't going home, that seemed like the obvious choice. Although, if not the library, what is my favourite place on this campus? I am yet to figure that one out. Coming back to the tiara, I was awarded the Miss Freshers title that evening. But more than the title, I was happy because of what it represented. The acceptance. The validation. The belief it gave me about something I hadn't realised I was questioning. Usually, peopl...