Dreaming of Blahniks since 16, I saw myself stepping into Oshos and hitting the very edge of Karnataka, the place where population under 17 was unheard of.
Direct flights were a luxury non-existent to Delhi-ites, the Mangalore airport: a suicidal risk and bus journeys from Bangalore:a revenge from the Ghats.
Not left with much choice, I sat in the white ambassador overlooking the MIT banner advertisement at the Mangalore airport. The anna (analogous to bhaiya of Delhi) looked at me and said: "First time?" sounding absolutely inconsiderate of the tears in my eyes. After about 30 minutes of awkwardness, he turned back again giving me the goosebumps by completely ignoring the head-on traffic on that undivided carriage way and asked: "Valley view?" I shrugged and said Yes.
Entered Manipal, which was exactly a 15 minute strip off the motor way, I arrived at the hotel I was booked in, Valley view indeed. Neat white building housing the ITC trainees, much to my surprise just stood out from the rest of the town. The porter managed to tell me in just about 5 minutes of my arrival how the building used to be a student accommodation for rich spoilt children coming from Delhi who took infinite years to finish their bachelor's in Medicine. I feel it had something to do with my innumerable bags or maybe just my passport which said New Delhi.
Nevertheless, I loved my room overlooking a few buildings which I had no clue were about then ( later I discovered was the emergency ward of KMC). I freshened up and headed down to look for my building and fellow college mates who had also arrived for the Orientation weekend.
The autos were 'THE' thing there. These very fancy accent flaunting men would drive you around like they bought the rights to the road yesterday. Drove me to Manipal Stores, the auto driver waited anxiously as I ticked everything on my bare necessities list and in no time the owner of the shop started publicising about some bar/club he owned to owning every hookah flavour in the market. Honestly at that juncture in my life, the LEAST I cared about was dancing at a club or smoking sheesha with the auto-walas (since those were the only people I had met till then).
Roaming about in the MIT Campus, I was yet to discover the existence of my college, the International Centre for Applied Sciences. Asked a few people who looked at me as if I had asked for the directions to the Arctic Circle. So my college was two floors big in a glass facade building with an official staff strength of 3, okay maybe 4.
The biggest fear that I was avoiding till now was discovering the hostel and my roommate. I was expecting an old tattered building and tiny cubicle rooms with vamp looking wardens who cane you if you are late or absent. It was exactly the opposite.
A big space equally divided into two with plenty of light seeping through the wide windows gave me a reassuring satisfaction.
True to what people say, Once in Manipal, you build your own little world, I fell in love with the intricate details of that place. From the ignorant auto annas refusing to converse in our country's mother tongue, hindi to bribing akkas with henna cones to stay out for just one extra day.
From the silence of the End point to the roaring seas at Malpe beach, from so the called oriental food at China valley to Manicures lasting however long you want at U-Like, from 70 rupees tequila shots to the most expensive meal for 200 rupees at Valley view, we build our own little world which had seam less boundaries.
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