Adulthood diaries-3, Not a man-hater...

It was my first day of college.

I woke up ridiculously early-- 4:00 am... actually very early. I couldn't help it. I was buzzing with a mix of excitement, curiosity, and this weird fluttery anxiety in my chest. My college hours were from 9:00 am to 5:00 pm., but the clock was still stuck at 4. I had absolutely nothing to do, so I picked up a book-- something philosophical, something grounding. Meditations by Marcus Aurelius.

I'm usually more into fiction than self- help, but that morning I needed something to anchor me... something that felt calm, meaningful. I sat on the balcony; on this wooden chair I'd placed there just yesterday. The air was still, the sky still shy. No crowd, no chaos--- just the faint sound of birds slowly waking up. It felt... perfect.

By 5 am., the stillness had started turning into restlessness. so, I grabbed my earphones and went down for a walk.

I played Ladyfinger by Herb Alpert--- soft jazz with a sunny soul. It hit the right spot. I walked aimlessly, lost in the rhythm, letting the early morning silence melt into the music.

Around 7 am., I made my way back home. The moment I stepped inside, I noticed something-- the apartment looked cleaner, neater. And there was this familiar scent floating in the air. That's when it clicked--- Maya must've come in early for the cleaning.

I splashed cold water on my face, feeling more awake now, then started ironing my clothes. See, I'm super conscious about what I wear. Not in a fashionista way-- just... I can't stand wrinkled or grimy clothes. I don't judge people, but if someone walks around looking like a crumpled bedsheet, I do feel a certain way about it. so yeah--- details matter to me.

I picked a plain black cotton t-shirt-- no prints, no logos-- just clean and minimal. Paired it with straight- cut blue jeans. Not skinny, not flared--- just simple, structured, something that felt me. The clothes were already clean and barely creased, but still... I couldn't resist ironing them again. Something about it felt satisfying.

Then I went to shower.

I'm not gonna lie-- in the evenings, I take forever in the bath. Like, full-on spa mode, almost two hours. But mornings? Total switch-up. Quick, no-nonsense. Took just 30 minutes this time.

I didn't wear my college clothes right after bathing. Instead, I slipped into my usual home outfit-- something comfy.

I've always believed that the final clothes-- the "main" ones-- should be worn only at the very end, after you're completely ready. Hair done, face sorted, everything in place.

I still had things to do-- like making breakfast.

So, I kept it chill and headed to the kitchen. I made myself a bowl of noodles and poured a glass of guava juice-- the handmade kind my mom had prepared earlier. It tasted fresh, sweet, familiar. After that, I had a few homemade snacks she'd also made. 

There's a comfort in eating food made by someone who loves you--- even if they're not around in that moment, it still feels like they are.

Once I was done eating, I did my hair with extra care-- not over-the-top, just neat. Then, finally, I changed into my college outfit. That black cotton t-shirt and straight- cut jeans I had prepped earlier. I applied sunscreen, spritzed on a little perfume- nothing loud, just enough to feel fresh-- and fastened my watch around my wrist.

I've never liked those bulky, schoolbag- type backpacks, so I had bought a side bag instead. something more subtle. In it, I packed a few basic curriculum books-- and one novel: The bell jar by Sylvia Plath. Somehow, that book always feels like company.

I took the lift downstairs and booked an Uber. The college was about 30 minutes from my apartment.

And as the car moved through the streets, as I got closer to that new chapter of my life... I could feel it.

That quiet storm in my chest.

Anxiety, creeping in-- slow, heavy, and real.

The university was huge-- way bigger than I had imagined.

even though I'd visited once before to submit some documents, my dad had told me to wait outside, so I never really got to see much of the campus.

Now, standing there for real, everything felt overwhelming.

There were so many buildings, all divided into separate blocks, each named after influential figures. Einstein block, Marie Curie block... names that carried history. It wasn't just a college that offered one specific program--- this place had everything. Engineering, Medical sciences, management, arts-- all under one massive campus.

I made my way towards the Peter F. Drucker Block-- the one dedicated to management studies.

Inside it were various departments: the school of business and economics, the department of finance and quantitative methods, and others. That was my zone.

I stood outside the block, my heart pounding with this chaotic mix of nerves and excitement.

I took a breath, trying to calm myself as I smoothed out my brand- new college ID card--- it still felt stiff, unfamiliar, like it hadn't been touched enough yet to feel like mine.

As a first- year finance student, I was eager. I wanted to dive headfirst into this new chapter. But at that moment, I was just... lost.

I wasn't sure where to go. My class schedule wasn't clear, and I didn't know which room or floor I was supposed to be on. There were so many people around-- students walking in groups, chatting, laughing, already seeming like they belonged. I thought maybe I should ask someone for help.

But I didn't.

I'm not the type who asks strangers for directions easily--- especially not in crowds. I'm quiet. Reserved and honestly, most of the students around were boys.

And I don't like talking to boys much. It's not because they've done something directly to me-- not personally, at least. But deep down, I just... don't trust them. Apart from my father, I don't feel comfortable around most of them.

It's not just discomfort-- it's resentment, in a way. I believe they are part of the reason girls have to constantly bend themselves. Sacrifice their choices. Shrink their dreams.

Girls chase opportunities, but they're blocked-- not by lack of talent, but by a system that was never designed for them to win. A system built by men. Dominated by men. For centuries.

I've seen women get beaten by their husbands, I've seen society-- even parents-- stop their daughters from dreaming.

Don't go too far, stay at home, that job's not for women.

They invest more in their son's future than their daughter's. They protect the boys, then expect girls to adapt. Inheritance laws, job biases, Unequal pay. It's all real everywhere.

And maybe that's why, even on my first day of college, surrounded by opportunity.... I still felt like I was standing outside the system--- watching.

A girl wants to become a doctor, but her father marries her off at nineteen.

another girl gets accepted into a top university, but her brothers get priority-- for hostel, for tution, for everything.

A woman's up for promotion, but her male boss picks a less- qualified guy just because he's more "aggressive."

see the pattern?

It's not about every individual man. It's about the power structure.

The social mindset.

The gender privilege most men benefit from-- often without even realizing it.

And honestly, I think my parents might've done the same with me... if I had a brother.

but luckily... I am a single child.

saying I "hate men" would be wrong. I don't. But I am kind of jealous of them.

yeah, sure, not all men are the same -- I get that. But still, I didn't want to ask one for help.

It just... didn't feel right. It felt like something inside me resisted.

It's hard to explain. A weird mix of things-- systemic resentment, feminist rage, disillusionment.

and for the record, it's not about sexual orientation. I'm straight, actually I'm very straight.

It's psychological. Deep-rooted.

********

so, I found a girl standing nearby and asked her for help.

told her my course and all, and she kindly pointed me in the right direction.

That first day, there weren't any classes. just introductions. finally walked in one by one, welcomed us, explained rules, the structure, expectations.

I stayed quiet, distant. I wasn't in the mood to get friendly or join some group just to avoid being alone.

Being alone felt... safer.

Later, I went to the canteen.

bought a sandwich. A cold drink. Ate quietly, thinking about everything. Myself.

It wasn't what I had imagined,

I didn't enjoy it much, if I'm being honest.

eventually, I wandered into the library.

found a corner, opened the bell jar, and started reading.