MTTC - Missing Life

MTTC - This stands for Mar Theophilus Training College Hostel, my hostel. Though I was not a student of this college, I spent the three, wonderful years of graduation here. The lady students of Mar Ivanios College were provided an accommodation here, and thus, I also got an opportunity to be here. My first day at the hostel was sucking. We had clumsy, small rooms with rusted fans, small wooden beds, stinking bathrooms, and an untidy mess. I had two roomates whom I had met at there. To turn things worse, both of them were dumb silent for the first day as it was their first experience - Staying away from Home! Well, for me it had become a routine itself. So homesickness didn't affect me. I was roaming around and having a look at the place when I bumped into two seniors. Oh! I was scared. I had heard a lot of stories about ragging and torturing. Though the girls looked cool and friendly, I fled the place soon. I reached my room back and started unpacking and getting familiar with my room. Somehow the day got over slowly and the rest of the three years, it just flew by!

Now when I turn back to those days, I find them very interesting. The very place became my favourite. The ground where we spent our evenings, the mess where we sat and chatted for hours, our room, everything - I miss everything over there. The part we enjoyed the most were the way we bunked classes and spent the day roaming about, and when returning by late evening the look on our faces - "Oh, we had a very tiring day!"

As we were communication students our syllabus offered us lots of loop holes to get out of the hostel when the regular course students couldn't. Projects, shoots, interviews, libraries, script writing, and so on... I tell you our matron was really proud of the "hardworking bvmc (Bachelor of Videography and Mass Communication) girls". Remembering our matron, she was the person whom we fooled the most. Though we never intended to do so, but our situations pressurized us to do that.. ;-)

I gained few good friends during my stay over there. We united while conducting the various cultural programs, had looong lunches and dinners together, often fought with each other when the turns to clean the bathrooms came, and so on... :-) But it was real fun. I really miss those days now!

This was the place from where I learnt a lot of things - both good and bad. To read, to bunk classes, to gain friends, to fight terribly, and so on. My final year at college was the most enjoyable as well as painful. Within less time I had to bid farewell to the wonderful hostel and I did that sadly. It was inevitable.

After a gap of two years I went back to my hostel once again. Just a visit. Other than 3 or 4 people nobody over there knew me. I sat in the visitor's room. While sitting there, I wished to be one of those girls who passed by the room. I longed to go back to those days once again!


This term always fascinated me once I joined the IT industry. I always looked forward to that day when I could re-locate to a new place and finally after waiting for a year and a half, I got the chance. Yes! I was relocating to the most happening 'Bangalore'. Initially I had a mixed feeling of leaving my job and colleagues, but still there was a feel good factor within - the new firm and the location. I had started my packing two weeks earlier itself. Dusted all the bags which lay in the cupboards from the past one and a half year, shopped for a few good clothes, and rang up all dear and near ones to inform of my 'relocation'. The countdown began; work also was turning out hectic. Even in those busy schedules, I found time to prepare myself for the change. My new colleagues kept calling me up as part of formalities and assured that my new office was a great place to work (Indeed, it is till date... :-))

Atlast, the day arrived. I took my bags and bid farewell to all fellow-mates. Saying bye to my roomate was indeed the most difficult part. So, I didnt take much effort to do that. Just concluded that in a "See you, and shall call you." With all the heavy bags I reached the bus-stop and waited for my bus. I quickly played back all the memories attached with the place.

The first time I had come to Trivandrum was to do my Graduation. I remembered the three years of my graduation, my hostel days, bunking classes, hang-outs at zam zam, the museum, the first time we went for movie by bunking classes, and so on. My first job, my PG accomodation, friends, everything. Nostalgia started arising in me. I had a relation of five continuous years with this place. Probably it was about to end. I wont be having a chance to stay at this place the same way once again. All friends had left the place and even I was leaving. My bus arrived. I dragged myself with the heavy luggage and got in. The bus started moving and I turned back once again. Then I realized relocating is not that easy!!!


As a child, I always used to wonder what I would become when I grow up - teacher, engineer, actress, and every profession I knew of. Even until my years of graduation I was not able to take a firm stand. It was in our second year that we had Creative Writing as a paper. Those were the days I started reading, a lot. Finally after completing my project in Creative Writing, I made a firm stand - Become a reknowned writer... I did stick to the promise for atleast an year and a half. Continued reading and writing. Though I do still read nowadays, I have stopped writing. Ironically, my profession is that of a writer - "Technical Writer". But that doesn't involve writing for my passion .. ;) Some day I wish to remove "Technical" from my profession!