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Where the Last Cab Leaves, FOMO Begins: The Day Scholar’s Silent Struggles

Sharishtha Lal Student Contributor, Manipal University Jaipur
This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at MUJ chapter and does not reflect the views of Her Campus.

Hi readers! 

I’m a day scholar, and this article is entirely about my experience. If you’re expecting a tale of thrilling college adventures and late-night hostel mischief, that’s exactly what I’m missing out on.  

My day begins at 7 AM when I groggily get ready to leave for college. The daily routine is simple: wake up, commute, attend classes, commute back, and repeat. Sounds mundane, right? That’s because it is. While hostel students weave stories of midnight maggi parties, impromptu dance sessions, and endless gossip, I’m either stuck in traffic or exhausted from the day’s grind. Ironically, people assume day scholars have the comfort of home. In reality, we barely interact with our families. By the time we return, it’s already late, and all we manage is a quick dinner before burying ourselves in assignments. There’s no lounging around or casual conversations with parents—it’s just another version of a hostel, except without the fun.  

The Unspoken FOMO

One of the biggest struggles of being a day scholar is the perpetual feeling of missing out—the dreaded FOMO. It’s not just about missing hostel parties; it’s about not being part of spontaneous plans, late-night study sessions, or deep conversations that strengthen friendships.  

Imagine this: The day is over, and while my hostel friends are making plans to explore the city, try a new cafe , or just chill in someone’s room, I’m rushing to catch the last cab home. By the time I get back, the excitement has already unfolded in group chats that I can only scroll through with regret. Sometimes, I don’t even bother replying because what’s the point? The moment has already passed.  

Then there are events: informal hostel fests, night screenings, surprise birthday celebrations. I hear about them the next morning, and all I can do is nod along, pretending I don’t feel left out.  

The Financial Reality

Here’s another reality check: we don’t even get the monthly allowances our hostel friends do. Since we technically “live at home,” our parents assume all our needs are already met. No extra pocket money, no budgeting for weekend outings—just the basics. While my friends in hostels have their monthly allowances and can plan weekend getaways, I’m often stuck making excuses because I just don’t have that kind of financial freedom.

The irony? The only luxury we day scholars have is “ghar ka khana”—and let’s be real, that’s a privilege I wouldn’t trade for anything. While hostelites complain about mess food, I get home-cooked meals every day. But is that enough to compensate for the social life I miss out on? Not really.

piggy bank
Original Illustration Designed in Canva for Her Campus Media

The Emotional Disconnect

Over time, the gap between day scholars and hostel students only grows wider. Friendships that seemed promising at the start of the semester become harder to maintain. People naturally bond over the time they spend together, and when you’re absent for so many moments, you inevitably feel like an outsider.

It’s not like my friends intentionally exclude me—it’s just that their inside jokes, shared experiences, and late-night adventures become a world I can never fully be part of. I’ve had moments where I felt like I was merely a college friend rather than someone truly involved in their lives.

From a Fairy Tale to a Sad Love Story  

During my first year, my life felt like a fairy tale—I won’t deny it. Everything was new, exciting, and full of possibilities. But now? It feels more like a sad love story.  

If there’s one thing the first year teaches you, it’s how people are going to be and how not everyone is your friend. You know how in school, we had a tendency to call even our classmates “school friends”? In college, we have acquaintances—and that’s one of the biggest lessons I’ve learned.  

I consider myself an extrovert (at least that’s what I think). In my first year, I interacted with almost everyone, made connections, and enjoyed socializing. But being highly extroverted isn’t always beneficial. You’ll end up having friendship heartbreaks.People you once talked to daily will suddenly disappear, and the ones who still text you? Well, chances are they need notes or help with an assignment. On normal days, they’ll just walk past you as if you never existed.  

But anyway, enough of the sad drama.  

The Silver Lining

For all the downsides of being a day scholar, there are still some perks—though, ironically, they mostly fall under the “cons” category too.  

First and foremost, ghar ka khana—now, that’s a luxury. No matter how much hostelites defend their mess food, nothing beats the comfort of a home-cooked meal. While my hostel friends are surviving on questionable dal-chawal, I get fresh rotis straight from the kitchen. And trust me, that alone makes the struggle somewhat worth it.  

But apart from that? The list of benefits is surprisingly short. No monthly expenses, no hostel-life freedom, and no impromptu night-outs. Just the same routine—home, college, home again.  

Lessons Learned AS A DAY SCHOLAR!

Despite everything, being a day scholar has shaped me in ways I didn’t expect. It has taught me to value my time on campus, to be intentional about friendships, and to appreciate the small moments of fun whenever I can grab them.  

Most importantly, I’ve learned that while I may not have the hostel experience, my journey is still my own. Would I trade it for hostel life? Maybe. But would I change the lessons I’ve learned along the way? Not for anything.

For more thought-provoking articles, explore Her Campus at MUJ.

Sharishtha is the Editorial Director at Her Campus Manipal University Jaipur and a third-year B.A. LL.B. (Hons.) student at Manipal University Jaipur.
A writer by instinct and a law student by choice, she finds her peace in penning down thoughts that challenge the status quo and speak to deeper truths. For Sharishtha, writing is not just a creative outlet it’s her anchor, her voice, and her way of making sense of the world.

Driven by her deep interest in gender equity, social justice, and the unspoken layers of everyday life, Sharishtha uses her voice to start conversations that matter. Her belief? If you want to change the world, start by changing the narrative.

Inspired by Mohammed Qahtani’s words—“Words have power, words are power, words could be your power” she writes to empower, provoke, and heal, believing that language, when used right, becomes a form of activism.

At Her Campus MUJ, she leads a diverse team of writers , who share a common love for meaningful dialogue. As Editorial Director, she fosters a space where every voice is welcomed, every perspective is valid, and every story has the potential to move hearts and minds.

In between writing deadlines and law lectures, you’ll probably find her scribbling in a journal, re-reading a quote she underlined months ago, or just sitting in stillness with an idea she’s yet to unravel. Because for her, writing isn’t a task it’s a way of breathing.