Thirsty in the Ocean

I live in a hostel, far from home and the people I can be myself with. There are people all around me. But there is no one I can sit with and talk to about what I am going through.

The corridors are never empty. I hear voices through the walls and footsteps at all hours. Yet I do not know who to turn to when I need to talk. I am an introvert, and starting a conversation takes courage. Sometimes, when I finally try, the answer is a quiet, “I’m busy right now.”

I understand. Everyone has their own life. I do not blame them. Still, I am left with a question I cannot put away: why me?

My classmates live on the same floor. Every morning, I hear them knock on each other’s doors and call out names. They leave for class together, laughing. No one knocks on mine.

They walk to the mess together. I walk alone. In the evenings, they gather in one room, and I can hear their voices from the corridor. They do not call me. Sometimes I stop by to ask about classwork. The room goes quiet. No one asks me to sit. I smile and go back to my room.

Most days follow the same pattern. I wake up alone, eat alone, go to class alone, and come back alone. When my work is done, I lie on my bed and look at the ceiling. I listen to songs that seem to understand how I feel. I watch films about love. I have always liked stories that make room for feelings.

It feels like being thirsty in the middle of the sea. Water everywhere. Not a drop to drink.

When the room feels too small, I walk to the ghats after midnight. I sit by the river until the sky begins to lighten. I watch the water and talk to myself about the past, about what is happening now, and about what might come next. On other nights, I go to the gym. I lift until my body is tired and my thoughts grow quieter.

The hardest part is wondering who would notice if I fell ill again. Even the classmates I see every day barely speak to me. I do not understand why.

When they needed help with an assignment or an errand, I left my own work and said yes. I still believe that if you can help someone, you should. But when I needed a little help, they were busy. I did not argue. I found a way on my own.

As I write this, they are at the ghats together. I am glad they are having a good time. I do not want to take that away from them. Everyone can choose who they spend time with. I only hope no one else has to feel this alone.

I have been through difficult times before. During my bachelor’s degree, I had tuberculosis, COVID, jaundice, and infections in my kidneys and liver. As a child, I faced discrimination before I was old enough to understand it. I do not blame the people who were unkind. They were living the only lives they knew.

I did not want much then. I do not want much now. I am not keeping a list of what the world owes me. More than anything, I want to give my parents a comfortable life, with dignity and fewer worries.

I am not writing this for pity. Some feelings become too heavy when I keep them to myself. I needed to put them into words, take a breath, and return to my work.

At night, I talk to myself. I wonder if something is wrong with me, or if this is simply my kismat, my fate. I am trying to accept what I cannot change. But the feeling stays: I am thirsty in an ocean. People everywhere. No one to talk to.

It is not only about my classmates. Even outside the hostel, I struggle to begin a conversation. If a stranger asks me the way to a classroom, I stumble over my words. I hesitate. Then I hesitate again.

That is all I wanted to say. I hope everyone finds what they are looking for, and someone to share it with.