Her Majesty by The Beatles // Miranda House Hostel Alumni Meet 2024

Описание: I ruminated for a week before booking my tickets for Miranda’s Hostel Alumni Meet - none of my batch mates seemed to be attending, and it was a chunk of my pocket money. My brother pushed me to go - I booked my tickets in haste.

I begged a fellow classmate to help me with the sari, straightened my hair, charged my camera and booked an auto.
I spent the first hour there wandering around alone and speaking to a friend on call, cursing my decision.

As the night went on, I ran into juniors who told me they missed me, who patiently shot the entirety of the video you see above, old professors, a kind senior who introduced me to her other friends, Principal Ma’am, who complimented my earrings.

I thought I was average and naive in school - I thought average people went to average colleges and had average lives. My 17-year-old self believed only fairies went to colleges like Miranda and Stephens. I was curious about what the future contained: curious and clueless.

12th boards worked out for me - after a hodgepodge of matching cut-offs with courses and future with desires - I landed here. I took a shot and picked political science and philosophy, being completely unfamiliar with the latter. If we have ever spoken, you’d know deeply I ended up loving its syllabi.

Miranda felt warm. The professors were sharp, the kids wanted to befriend me, and suddenly, all the aunty uncles thought I was smart.

It was more than a college for me, it taught me how to be kind, how to speak, initiate, absorb, forgive, try again, ask, say hi, compliment, study a lot or not study at all. One of my fondest memories of college is the filmmaking society I was a part of - partially the reason this video exists today.

Two hours into the meet - I couldn’t stop smiling. It hit me that this is how I usually felt a couple of years ago.

I look back at my time here, and it feels like a blur, unreal, sometimes as if it never happened at all.

But somehow, my voice didn’t shiver when I spoke in the Supreme Court’s Registry for the first time. I feel confident when my senior asks me to draft a document I’ve never heard of, I assume that most women are kind, and I can tell you my opinion on fate and theology without thinking all that much.

I’ve forgotten most of the syllabus, and I’ve forgotten what my assignments were about - but my body remembers the kindness.

I zoomed out later that night, holding onto that feeling. My 17-year-old self was naive, but she was right about the fairies.