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Magical moments in Edinburgh

To much of my relief I finally spotted a cab with an Indian-looking driver (who I later found out, was a Bangladeshi) and got in. I was going to be in London for a week, staying with a distant-relative of mine (whom I have never met) and the mere thought of taking an obligation from a total stranger didn’t really appeal to me then. Without much choice on the subject (my mother had made some arrangements and she positively wanted me to follow them until I got settled on my own), I found my way to a suburb in London to “mama’s” home. They were nice people, as much rattled by a stranger’s presence in their home as I was, and not too nice either. Just kind enough for me to manage staying with them, they didn’t really worry much about me, as mama on the very first day, told me to go on my own if I wanted to explore the city (it was an ultimatum of sorts saying they were not responsible for my travel expenses there). Not too comfortable there, I somehow managed a week, and was relieved to be on my way to my final destination, Edinburgh.
As the cab driver dropped me off to the kings cross station, I felt lost again, too many strange faces, new customs…my mind rushed with such thoughts even as I looked around for my train, and a trolley to carry my heavy bags…
Finally on the train to Edinburgh, and a four hour journey to my-new-home-to-be-for-a-year, I felt relaxed. The guy sitting next to me began a conversation and it so happened that he too was going to attend the same university! With pleasantries exchanged all the way, the journey ended soon, and I again found myself at a lonely Waverley station, with almost no one around to help me (much unlike the rushing coolies at our Indian stations) with the luggage. It was 11 pm and all the roads were deserted, I was told by the train staff, or what was remaining of it, that I should call a cab, and race home, incase my dormitory closed down for the night. My cab took me to Churchill house, my final abode in Edinburgh, and to my disdain, the house was closed for the day. The friendly porter couldn’t let me in as the in-time was past. So I gathered my bags and got ready to spend the night in the hotel next door. As I sipped some thankfully hot tea, and slipped into the warm duvet (it was coooooold outside), it just dawned on me, that a new phase of my life had just begun.

It was morning soon, and I hurriedly packed my belongings and got ready to move into my university accommodation. As I finally arrive at Churchill house the other day, it was utter chaos, with students from various nationalities rushing around, trying to find their rooms, and then find a way to carry the bags upstairs. As I looked up, Churchill was a single building, towering at eight floors, with a small launderette outside and a porters cabin, which inturn led to a secured gate. With all those excited faces, smiling porters and my to-be dorm mates rushing around, chattering and laughing, I immediately felt safe and all the concerns about life in a shared accommodation, melted away in the cold Edinburgh chill.
I was about to make my way to my room, when a Japanese looking guy came, took my bags and led me to the lift. Before I could say anything, he says, “don’t worry, I am a senior and living here for a year now, just wanted to personally assure you that this is a good place, and you have a good room with a magnificient view!”
And what a view indeed. The moment I walked in 802, that’s all I saw…the tiny window to the right of my room, I realized, would be the focal point of my stay at Churchill. With a beautiful view of the grand and humble arthur’s seat on the right, and the majestic sea on the right this was the best deal! The room was small but it didn’t really matter now.
Soon Jerome(that was his name simplified) left and I got busy unpacking my stuff in the tiniest cupboard I had ever come across! As night fell, a hungry stomach beckoned and I made way to an adjacent kitchen for some grub…and to meet some of my future family…my dorm mates!