first day

I finally climbed onto the bus with more luggage than I could reasonably carry—trying, in some stubborn way, to pack my comfort and my sense of home into zipped compartments. But some things simply refused to come with me.

The journey was long, and I found myself alone among strangers. Yet even then, people whose native language was different from mine tried their best to understand me, to help me. That, I think, is what I love most about India—its quiet, effortless kindness.

Because of traffic, we reached the city late at night. I had no idea what I was supposed to do next, my mind foggy with exhaustion and worry. But the bus driver called an auto for me himself and made sure I left safely. The auto driver helped load my luggage without being asked. Everyone felt unexpectedly welcoming, even as fear tightened in my chest. I didn’t know where I was, what I was doing, or how I would manage any of it.

Homesick, tired, and lonely, I told myself I had to try my best—that giving up couldn’t be an option—but it was still terrifying. I felt like I couldn’t handle it. Maybe this is what the real world is: frightening and unpredictable.

I had always wanted to be on my own, and now that I finally had the chance… I hated it.

Still, I woke up the next morning and forced myself into a rhythm. I started my chores, moved through the discomfort, and told myself that, slowly, I would adjust. Tomorrow is my first day at my internship.

Let’s see how it goes.