I’m living alone in a city for the first time. It’s pretty nerve-wracking because I’ve always had someone beside me. At home, a very annoying person (my sister) was beside me 24/7. Then I moved to college, where I lived with the most eccentric group of people. But this time, I had to explore this entire city alone.
Initially, I was afraid to even come out on the street—afraid of nothing in particular. It’s just that the streets felt unfamiliar, the language sounded distant, and the city didn’t feel like it knew me. I stayed indoors more than I should have, letting the walls of my room and office become my comfort zone, even though they made me feel more trapped than safe.
Then one day, I had the courage to go out on the road. I left my hostel at five in the morning and went to Marina Beach. I witnessed the sky being unsure of which color it should be, almost comforting me. While I was walking back, I noticed the different types of doors in Mylapore. I remembered watching a reel on Instagram about them. They looked straight out of a fairytale, as if each door would lead me to a different world. I had the urge to go and knock on them and escape to another universe—maybe I’d find a Narnia behind those doors. I knew I couldn’t do that, but somehow just walking through those streets made me happier. It felt magical in the best way possible. Maybe I just needed a break from the walls of my hostel and office.
I’m meeting a lot of new people, where I’m staying and where I work. Everyone has a different lifestyle and persona. It’s so refreshing to know the different experiences of people; it really shows how differently life treats everyone. The people I work with are all more experienced than me, and sometimes I feel out of place. But that’s nothing new. I feel out of place most of the time. But maybe I can see the beauty in it. I mean how beautiful it is to be able to understand how to live alone, how to not call my dad with every minor inconvenience, and how to buy eggs from the nearby convenience store. Okay, that doesn’t sound very exciting, I agree—but that comes with the freedom to go to the beach at 5 in the morning to watch the sunrise, Google translating menus written in Tamil, talking to that tiffin service lady who goes out of her way to make me feel comfortable in a city that doesn’t know my name.
And I’m forever grateful to my friends who call every day to check up on me, make plans to meet up, and surprise me at 10 in the night for an ice cream run. I think the saying is true—when God shuts all the doors, one in Mylapore opens up.