That Magic Feeling

Indrajeet Ghosh, India

I don't remember who it was there sitting with me that cold evening, in front of the porch of Halifax Hall, but all I know was that we were there, that's all that mattered. It was the third week of December and most of the home students and a majority of the international students had gone back home. Myself, I still had nine months to go before I would touch the Indian soil again.

There wasn't a single soul in sight, most of the surrounding area except the porter's foyer directly left, to where we were sitting on the bench, was bathed in darkness. The light from the porter's room in the reception area shone through the double doors leading to the Hall and distilled the cold winter air all around. Come to think of it, I (we?) cannot even remember what I was thinking about at that moment. It was then, suddenly, that I felt the feeling. I don't know how it happened or why it happened, it happened, that's all. Don't ask me to describe the feeling. I can't. But maybe you could try by walking up the long and winding road to the Hall of residence.

After almost nine months in this University now, far, far away from home, this place has become like a spiritual haven for me, growing within me with the passage of every single day. In fact, I have never appreciated another place like this one. No, I'll change that. It's the best home away from home to live in, a place where everyone and everything has a lesson to offer, a place where friends are always sticking together in a warm sort of way.

This is a swell place. I like it this way.

Indrajeet Ghosh, India