The pitter-patter of rain against the window jolted me awake. The bus rattled as we gained momentum. I looked out to see pale faces and bright-colored eyes all dressed up to hit the clubs. I noticed how every second person had either a cigarette or a vape in their hands. It wasn’t just limited to youngsters; old women with walking sticks, and men easily over 65 were smoking too. Back in India, you would be ogled at for smoking outside, but here it seemed a part of their culture.
We finally reached our destination. We dragged our feet towards the hotel. We immediately collapsed onto the cold white bed. I woke up to the cold air grazing my skin, I pulled up the covers to my face. "Come on, sleepy head! Don't you want to see your campus?" Acha (Malayalam word for dad) called out. I groggily woke up, barely able to open my eyes, but then a smile appeared on my face at the thought of visiting my campus, a place I would call home for the next year.
I walked to the reception to collect my university ID. ‘University of Liverpool’ was printed in big white letters on the right side of the blue-coloured card. I beamed with pride. I inquired about the curfew timings and received a puzzled look; my dad laughed at my innocence.
Confused, I took my room key and left, "Why did he look at me like that?"
"You are a master’s student; you have no curfew," Dad replied with a chuckle.
I was shocked on hearing this; my curfew back home for my bachelor’s was 7 pm. I was ecstatic at this newfound information. I entered my room, and the smell of freshly done linen hit my nose. The room was quite big; it contained a double-sized bed and a cupboard, along with a study table. I began to envision how I would do up this room. I could place photos of my loved ones on the wall against the bed; my dream catcher could hang by the right-hand corner, and I could light a Bath and Body Works candle in the bathroom.
Just as I began to imagine my dream room coming to life, I noticed my dad walk up to the window, “Look, there is something here for you.” I saw a purple package waiting for me; it was a welcome package from the Uni. I opened it to find small shampoo sachets, a few vouchers, an energy drink, a Heineken beer can, and a tiny bottle of spiced rum. My dad and I looked at each other and laughed.
"Well, this is new, I’ve never seen a Uni offer alcohol to students; you'll have fun here!" said Acha. We cracked open the drinks and toasted the beginning of my new journey. I took a sip of the rum, and it burned my throat; I coughed lightly as I glanced at my dad, who handled his drink with ease. I was going to miss him terribly, a sadness filled my heart, making it heavy.
I barely slept the night; the next day was my first day of class, and I was as jittery as a chihuahua. Was this a feeling shared by every international student? I woke up in cold sweat the next morning; Acha dropped me off at college, embraced me in his warm arms, and left. I felt a sense of hollowness when he left, like a baby bird about to take flight into a new, scary world. "I am not ready to not see you for more than a year," I wished to scream out. I knew I was ready, but uncertainty lingered within me.
I entered the classroom. The bitter smell of coffee and the aroma of pastries wafted in the air. I looked around to see if there were people who shared the same skin tone as me. As I began looking around, our professor entered the classroom. She was a blonde-haired, petite woman. She started with introductions, and by the time she came to me, I knew she wouldn't be able to pronounce my name.
“You can just call me Sanj”.
"Sanj, that is good! I will call you Sanj." I smiled at the realisation that only my friends called me Sanj. It was strange and heartwarming to hear my professor address me by that name.
"Welcome to your first semester! This course, 'Criminal Behaviour', contains 5 modules....." she began. I took out my notebook to jot down points, and in that moment, all my inhibitions flew out the window. I knew I was meant to be in there, in that classroom, in that building.
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