Forty-Two Days

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, people wonder, Am I enough? Am I doing this right? My concern has always been slightly different. What if I am not fitting in because I am too much into it? How does one learn to be less ambitious? Less invested? Less of themselves? Isn't being yourself the very first thing parents, seniors, and practically everyone else advises when you walk into a new place? After spending exactly 42 days on this campus, I have started liking the rain in this city. I have started appreciating the food. I am still in denial about its cold coffee, but I am convinced I will come around eventually. Walking alone through the trees does not feel lonely anymore. It gives me space to think. To think about why I am here. And I am glad my life is moving forward. I know the direction I want to head in. I haven't sketched the exact route yet, but the last page of my diary finally has some scribbles on it. They will turn into something eventually.