The sun had barely risen over the dusty lanes of Ahmedabad, bathing the familiar neighbourhood in a soft golden glow the scent of chai mingled with frying parathas from roadside stalls smells Kabir had breathed in every single day of his life.
Today, those smells felt like memories already slipping away.
On the crowded platform, Kabir's parents stood close together, their faces a mix of pride, worry, and tenderness his mother's eyes shimmered as she adjusted the collar of his shirt one last time.
"Take care of yourself, beta… Call every day," she whispered, pressing a warm packet of homemade thepla into his hands a piece of home wrapped in foil.
Kabir nodded silently his heart felt heavy, a tight knot of fear and excitement twisting inside him he boarded the train, suitcase thudding behind him, stepping into the unknown to new journey .
Ahmedabad was all he had known welcoming neighbors, bustling lanes, familiar food, and his mother's soft voice calling him for dinner.
But Mumbai…
Mumbai was a storm waiting on the horizon.
New language.
New culture.
New people.
New life.
Would he fit in?
Would they accept a Gujarati boy in a hostel full of strangers?
The train lurched forward, wheels clattering steadily Kabir pressed his forehead against the cool window as the world blurred by fields, villages and rivers glinting in sunlight.
He imagined what lay ahead: accounts classes, hostel chaos, friendships he hadn't made yet and, fears he hadn't faced yet.
"Arre, ticket dekhaa do!" A boy shouted suddenly, waving a snack packet like a ticket.
Kabir blinked he had accidentally sat in the wrong seat flustered, he apologized, but the boy burst into laughter.
"Hota hai, bhai! Mumbai is going to confuse you even more!"
Soon he was dragged into jokes, stories, and a noisy carrom match a few compartments away Someone bought vada pav from a vendor at a Vangaon station and insisted Kabir try it
The spicy chutney hit his tongue like fire, and he coughed, making everyone roar with laughter.
The journey, he realized, wasn't a farewell.
It was a beginning.
By evening, the train pushed deeper into Maharashtra the scenery greener, the air thicker, the hum of city life creeping closer with every passing mile.
When it finally screeched into Dadar station, Mumbai hit him all at once loud, crowded, overflowing with energy
Rickshaw drivers shouting, students rushing past, announcements echoing overhead.
Kabir stood still for a moment, overwhelmed.
This wasn't just a city.
It was a tidal wave.
Dragging his suitcase through the chaos, he whispered to himself:
"This is it
This is where everything begins."
The first night at the hostel
The hostel towered like a concrete beast unfamiliar and intimidating.
His room felt cold: two metal beds, thin mattresses, a creaking fan, and walls that smelled of fresh paint and disinfectant It wasn't home It didn't feel close to home.
But it was his now.
As he unpacked, arranging clothes neatly and placing the thepla packet on the shelf like a sacred treasure, something inside him shifted fear blending into a fragile thread of hope.
He lay on the stiff mattress, staring at the ceiling until his eyes grew heavy.
The unknown was waiting.
But so was the adventure.
Kabir didn't even realize when sleep took him, the quiet of night vanished the moment morning arrived.
Buckets banged
Boys shouted
Doors slammed open.
Marathi, Hindi, English voices blended into chaotic music.
A sharp whistle pierced the air.
"Utho sab!! Roll-call in ten minutes!"
Kabir Stunned upright.
A senior walked in like he owned the building towel around his neck, slippers flapping, confident smirk on his face.
"New admission?" he asked.
Kabir nodded
"Haa… first year."
"I'm Bhargav
Welcome to the jungle.
Don't worry we shout a lot, but we're not murderers."
Before Kabir could respond, thirty boys stormed past brushing teeth, fighting over buckets, searching for slippers, yelling about shampoo.
Kabir stepped outside and froze.
Pure chaos.
Rows of beds, clothes hung like flags, music blasting from a speaker, seniors yelling instructions.
A boy his age bumped into him and grinned.
"Sorry! I'm Pranay
Your roommate."
Kabir let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.
Pranay pointed at the washroom queue.
"Come
Welcome to survival mode."
Kabir laughed, caught between horror and amusement.
The mess hall smelled of poha and steel plates
Kabir sat nervously until three seniors asked:
"Hometown?"
"Ahmedabad."
They nodded approvingly.
"Gujju? Good
Mess bhaiya is Gujju
Respect him and you'll get extra thepla."
A small comfort warmed his heart.
After breakfast, Pranay dragged him through the enormous campus wide pathways, glass windows reflecting sunlight, banners reading:
WELCOME TO THE FIRST YEARS!!
Kabir barely had time to breathe before a senior in a black hoodie pointed at him.
"You! Blue T-shirt!"
Kabir froze.
"Name?"
"K-Kabir Patel."
"Gujju?"
Kabir nodded shakily.
"Good
You'll survive Gujjus always do."
Pranay whispered, "Bro… that was Yuvaan Strict but fair You're lucky."
Kabir exhaled shakily.
The day had barely started.
At 9 PM, juniors gathered for the official introduction round.
"Relax," Bhargav said "Not ragging Just tradition."
One by one, juniors stood.
When Kabir's turn came, his heart pounded.
"I'm Kabir Patel
From Ahmedabad First-year Commerce."
A senior smirked.
"Anything special about you?"
Kabir thought, then said softly.
"My mom says I make good tea."
Laughter exploded around the hall.
"Bas!! Tomorrow onwards chai specialist!"
Kabir laughed shyly.
Warmth spread through him.
For the first time, he felt accepted.
New Roommate, New Risks,
His official roommate, Vansh from Pune, arrived the next day tall, messy hair, and full of nonstop chatter.
"Bro, hostel life is about Maggi, chai, and midnight adventures Classes are secondary."
Kabir laughed.
The nervousness in his chest loosened.
Vansh dragged him through secret spots the terrace with its glittering skyline, the hidden chai corner behind stacked crates
A senior caught them, but Vansh's "I'm a lost tourist" excuse saved them.
Kabir laughed until his eyes watered.
This was hostel life.
Messy, Chaotic,
Alive.
Not everyone smiled at him.
Two notorious brothers from another wing tall, muscular, and always looking for trouble kept glaring at Kabir everywhere he went.
"Stay away from them," seniors warned.
"They're always hunting for reasons."
Kabir tried.
But destiny had other plans.
Near midnight, Kabir slipped up to the terrace for some quiet.
The hostel was finally silent.
Below him, Mumbai glowed like a restless galaxy headlights streaking, distant horns echoing, and the sea breeze brushing against his face.
For the first time that day, Kabir felt the tension melt from his shoulders.
He closed his eyes.
Just breathe.
Just a moment of peace.
But peace in hostel life was a myth.
A sudden hard shove hit his back.
Kabir spun.
The two brothers Raghu and Ritesh stood blocking the exit, smirking, shadows slicing across their faces.
"Kya re hero?" Raghu sneered.
"Din bhar group ke peeche chup-chup ke phirta rehta hai
Aaj akela pakda gaya."
Ritesh cracked his knuckles.
"Aaj asli aukaat dikhate."
Kabir's heartbeat Stabilized.
Not fear anger.
"If you wanted to talk," he said coldly, "you could've used words.
Or don't you know how?"
The insult landed.
Raghu's face twisted.
A punch flew.
THHUUUDD.
It slammed into Kabir's shoulder, pain exploding through him He staggered… but didn't fall Didn't step back.
Instinct lit up in him like fire.
Adrenaline surged.
He dodged the next blow, jabbed back and, twisted his torso to block Ritesh's swing.
Two-on-one.
Brutal.
Unfair.
But Kabir kept moving.
Breath burning, limbs screaming, the terrace echoing with grunts and footsteps.
Another punch grazed his jaw
Another kick hit his ribs
But Kabir refused to drop.
He fought like he had something to prove.
Something to protect.
Something that belonged to him now.
And then
A voice tore through the night from the floors below:
"KABIR'S IN TROUBLE!"
Footsteps thundered up the stairs.
Louder Closer Furious.
The terrace door burst open.
Vansh,
Rohit,
Adarsh.
Three more boys from the hostel.
All of them breathless.
All of them were blazing with anger.
Rohit grabbed Raghu by the collar.
"Enough!! Yahan drama band."
Vansh shoved Ritesh back.
"You touched him again? You're not fighting one person…
You're fighting all of us."
The brothers stiffened.
They weren't expecting backup.
They exchanged one dark look, spat curses under their breath, and backed away retreating into the shadows like wounded hyenas.
The moment they disappeared, everyone collapsed against the railing, panting.
Rohit flicked Kabir's bruised knuckles.
"Pagal hai kya?
Do bande se akela lad raha tha?"
Kabir winced and laughed at the same time.
"Arre… mujhe kya pata tha backup aa raha hai?"
Vansh grinned.
"Hostel rule number one, bhai…"
The entire group shouted together, raising their fists:
"NO ONE FIGHTS ALONE!!"
Their voices echoed across the terrace, mixing with the cold night breeze.
Someone probably Adarsh started chanting:
"Bhaichara!! Bhaichara!! Bhaichara On Top!!"
The others joined.
Kabir felt it
Not just the cheer…
The belonging.
He wasn't just surviving hostel life.
He was becoming part of something.
As the noise faded, Kabir took a slow step toward the staircase.
The brothers were still halfway down, glaring back.
Kabir's voice cut through the silence calm, but razor-sharp.
"Last warning," He said.
"Touch me or any of my boys again…
And I won't wait for backup next time."
Raghu clenched his jaw but didn't reply.
They left.
The fight was over.
But Kabir's place in the hostel?
Finally earned.
That night, Kabir lay on his bed, bruised everywhere but smiling wider than he ever had.
In a single night, he had:
Fought his first real battle
Won his first real respect
Found his first real bro's
The hostel didn't feel strange now.