Chapter 1 – The Journey Begins (Part 3)
Hostel Block C stood at the edge of the sprawling campus, a solid four-story structure of red brick and pale plaster. The building was old but sturdy, its wide balconies lined with drying clothes, potted plants, and the occasional curious senior who leaned over to watch the flood of new arrivals.
Dragging their luggage along the path, Arjun Rathore and Raghav Chauhan joined the stream of freshers heading toward the entrance. The hostel courtyard was buzzing with activity—students unloading trunks, parents giving last-minute instructions, seniors pretending not to laugh at the nervous faces around them.
Inside, the warden sat at a wooden desk, surrounded by stacks of registers. His sharp eyes moved quickly over each student. "Room numbers, papers ready, no noise," he barked now and then, his voice carrying the authority of someone who had seen decades of batches come and go.
Arjun handed him the slip. "Rathore. Room 204."
The warden checked the list, nodded, and handed it back. "Second floor, right corridor. Keep your things in order. Lights out at eleven. And no complaints."
Arjun only gave a half-smile, slipping the paper into his pocket. Rules never bothered him much—they were there to be followed or bent, depending on what the situation demanded.
Raghav got his instructions too: Room 205, just next door. The two exchanged a quick glance, relief flickering across Raghav's face. Separate rooms, yes, but close enough to knock on the wall if needed.
They climbed the stairs together, the corridor echoing with the thud of suitcases and the chatter of students meeting roommates for the first time. Faded paint peeled in places, and ceiling fans creaked overhead, but the place had its own character—walls covered with scribbles, messages left behind by countless batches before them.
"Smells like socks and history," Raghav muttered, wrinkling his nose.
Arjun laughed. "Welcome to hostel life, brother. This is where the real stories are made."
They reached Room 204 first. Arjun unlocked the door with the heavy brass key, pushing it open to reveal a modest but functional space: two beds with iron frames, a wooden cupboard, a study desk under the window, and a single tube light that flickered to life. Dust motes floated in the afternoon sun that slanted through the iron bars.
Arjun stepped inside, surveying it with the air of someone claiming new territory. He dropped his bag on one of the beds and opened the window wider, letting fresh air sweep in. "Not bad," he said finally. "Could be worse."
Raghav peeked in from the doorway. "You'll make it look like a den of wolves within a week."
Arjun grinned. "That's the plan."
Raghav moved to the next room, fumbling with his own lock. His room was nearly identical—bare, a little musty, but filled with the quiet promise of new beginnings. Together, they spent the next hour unpacking, arranging their essentials, and laughing at the absurdity of hostel furniture.
"Why does this cupboard look like it's older than my grandfather?" Raghav asked, tugging at the stiff handle.
"Because it probably is," Arjun replied dryly, folding his few clothes into neat piles. He worked quickly, efficiently, while Raghav took his time, often stopping to complain about the dust or the squeaky bed.
When they were done, both rooms looked slightly less empty, though far from homely. They met again in the corridor, leaning against the railing as the sun dipped lower outside. The courtyard below was still alive with noise, but up here, a strange calm hung in the air.
Raghav sighed, brushing his hands together. "Feels real now, doesn't it? We're actually here."
Arjun nodded, his eyes thoughtful. "Yeah. The first step."
Raghav glanced at him. "You sound like you're already planning something bigger."
Arjun smirked faintly but didn't answer. He was planning, in a way—not details, not strategies yet, but his instincts told him that this place was only the beginning. The university, the people, the endless days ahead… something waited beyond the surface of books and lectures. He didn't know what, but he could feel it, like a low hum in the air.
For now, though, there was no need to speak of it. He pushed off the railing and clapped Raghav on the back. "Come on. Let's explore before the mess food kills us."
Raghav groaned. "Don't remind me."
Together, they walked down the corridor, side by side. Their laughter drifted into the evening light as the doors of Hostel Block C closed behind them.
And just like that, their new life had begun—quiet, ordinary, but carrying the weight of paths neither of them could yet see.