Depending on your score and whether or not your hometown has a medical college, you
are destined either to hostel life or home sweet home. Fortunately, I have experienced, and
hopefully can do justice to writing about, both.
At home, you are surrounded by people enjoying their non-medico lives while you try to recollect the
reasons why you chose medicine over sleep. At the hostel, you’re discussing studies, discussing lectures, discussing journals and discussing underwear. Everybody is going through the same and it’s gonna be alright. You are also borrowing books, borrowing journals, borrowing stationary, borrowing money to buy stationary, and in case of an emergency, borrowing underwear.
When your college is in your hometown, the only thing you have to figure out is how to get there - literally. But commuting does become a headache when you have only one lecture to go for, and travel all the way from infinity, just for the sake of attendance. When a hostelite, I missed every festive occasion because my college was 24 hours away from home, but didn't miss morning lectures. Travelling home was when a bunch of holidays came together.
‘Yuck’ is the word I used for hostel food, not to mention the many times I got diarrhea and constipation in that one year. When you get sick, you don’t have Mommy; you have a med school and med people, and you start to feel you’re going med [mad]. All you have is some home-made aachaar to compensate for the salt-less dal. But you eat fast food like never before – there’s no one to stop you. Maggi – we ate a lot of it.
Nothing can compare to the freedom that hostel life gives. You change, a lot. You become more mature, you get crazier; you become more independent, at the very same time, more dependent. You have these forever friends; you care, share and live with them. It’s slower when you’re a localite.
No matter how repulsive you were to the opposite sex earlier, the tables turn once you’re enter hostel. Maybe it’s because you’re away from home and you have freedom or maybe because love is in the air and there are couples all around you talking all day and night and you feel a need for that special someone. Even the innocent ones start becoming lovey-dovey. At home, it takes a lot of time to get to know someone, to be sure of your wooer.
It’s pathetic when your loved one is in your hometown, far away from you. You count the days till you meet him/her, and ‘Hey there Delilah’ becomes your favorite song. You realize the importance of love letters, and showing that you care in every small gesture. Yet sadly at times, you feel nothing at all. And as the days pass, you feel that ‘distance makes the relationship stronger’ is nothing but a myth.
Some things are common to both worlds. Ragging done in the hostel stays within the hostel. Your worst nightmare if you’re a localite is being forced to dance or enact a condom ad. Everyone gets to learn ‘politics’ - a very ill-defined term that is learnt by pure intuition. No one can teach you, no one can explain. You somehow learn to survive it.
Hostelites complain of home-sickness; localites of not getting enough privacy. I complain about losing my independence; hostel life is definitely better.
They say to write well, you have to write what you know. Whatever the journey, both hostelites and localites become amazing doctors, and this I know for sure.
are destined either to hostel life or home sweet home. Fortunately, I have experienced, and
hopefully can do justice to writing about, both.
At home, you are surrounded by people enjoying their non-medico lives while you try to recollect the
reasons why you chose medicine over sleep. At the hostel, you’re discussing studies, discussing lectures, discussing journals and discussing underwear. Everybody is going through the same and it’s gonna be alright. You are also borrowing books, borrowing journals, borrowing stationary, borrowing money to buy stationary, and in case of an emergency, borrowing underwear.
When your college is in your hometown, the only thing you have to figure out is how to get there - literally. But commuting does become a headache when you have only one lecture to go for, and travel all the way from infinity, just for the sake of attendance. When a hostelite, I missed every festive occasion because my college was 24 hours away from home, but didn't miss morning lectures. Travelling home was when a bunch of holidays came together.
‘Yuck’ is the word I used for hostel food, not to mention the many times I got diarrhea and constipation in that one year. When you get sick, you don’t have Mommy; you have a med school and med people, and you start to feel you’re going med [mad]. All you have is some home-made aachaar to compensate for the salt-less dal. But you eat fast food like never before – there’s no one to stop you. Maggi – we ate a lot of it.
Nothing can compare to the freedom that hostel life gives. You change, a lot. You become more mature, you get crazier; you become more independent, at the very same time, more dependent. You have these forever friends; you care, share and live with them. It’s slower when you’re a localite.
No matter how repulsive you were to the opposite sex earlier, the tables turn once you’re enter hostel. Maybe it’s because you’re away from home and you have freedom or maybe because love is in the air and there are couples all around you talking all day and night and you feel a need for that special someone. Even the innocent ones start becoming lovey-dovey. At home, it takes a lot of time to get to know someone, to be sure of your wooer.
It’s pathetic when your loved one is in your hometown, far away from you. You count the days till you meet him/her, and ‘Hey there Delilah’ becomes your favorite song. You realize the importance of love letters, and showing that you care in every small gesture. Yet sadly at times, you feel nothing at all. And as the days pass, you feel that ‘distance makes the relationship stronger’ is nothing but a myth.
Some things are common to both worlds. Ragging done in the hostel stays within the hostel. Your worst nightmare if you’re a localite is being forced to dance or enact a condom ad. Everyone gets to learn ‘politics’ - a very ill-defined term that is learnt by pure intuition. No one can teach you, no one can explain. You somehow learn to survive it.
Hostelites complain of home-sickness; localites of not getting enough privacy. I complain about losing my independence; hostel life is definitely better.
They say to write well, you have to write what you know. Whatever the journey, both hostelites and localites become amazing doctors, and this I know for sure.
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