The hostel corridor had quieted down after the chaos of Fresher's Day. Lights flickered overhead as footsteps echoed faintly across the tiled floors. Most girls were back in their rooms, talking to parents over the phone or chatting in clusters, their voices low and full of the kind of laughter that only happens when everything still feels new. But in Room 307, things were just beginning.
Sri Mathi pushed the door gently. It creaked slightly as it opened. Her corner was already settled—bed made with a soft blue sheet, a folded towel at the edge, and a single photo frame resting near her pillow. The photo held more silence than words—her mother and grandmother, faces tilted gently toward each other, smiling in a kitchen bathed in sunlight.
Now, the room had company.
Two girls were inside, half-buried under their luggage. Buckets, bags, and rolled-up mattresses occupied more space than the humans. A tall woman—probably their mother—stood near the window, trying to hang a curtain, while a quiet man unpacked boxes and stacked them neatly on the shelf.
One of the girls looked up from a half-unzipped suitcase. Strands of curly hair escaped her braid.
"Oh hey! You must be our third," she said brightly, brushing her hair back with her wrist. "I'm Esther. That's my twin, Theresa."
The other girl looked up too, offering a quick wave. "Hey! We're from Ooty."
Sri Mathi stepped in, polite but cautious. "Hi, I'm Sri Mathi. From Cuddalore. I moved in this morning."
Their mother turned around and smiled warmly as she wiped her hands on the end of her shawl. "Cuddalore? Such a lovely place. We stopped there once on the way to Chidambaram. The temples were beautiful. Are you settled in alright?"
"Yes, aunty. Everything's good," Sri Mathi replied softly.
The man—presumably their father—gave her a small, respectful nod before turning back to arranging books.
Esther stood and dusted her palms against her jeans. "You look like someone who folds their socks."
"She's the opposite of us," Theresa muttered from behind a pile of clothes. "We packed like we were moving here forever."
"I noticed," Sri Mathi said with a faint smile.
Laughter bubbled between the twins, easy and unforced. It filled the room like sunlight slipping through a window.
As their parents helped them unpack, Sri Mathi stayed out of the way but close enough to help. She held the stool when their mother needed to reach the top shelf and passed a water bottle to their father without being asked. No one instructed her, but she moved in rhythm with them, as though she had always been part of their quiet little chaos.
"Label your buckets, girls," their mother said as she folded a final saree into a drawer. "And please don't fight. Esther, let your sister sleep. Theresa, keep your shoes off the bed."
"Amma!" Esther groaned.
Their father placed a thick book—something about behavioral psychology—on Theresa's shelf and turned toward them. "We'll head off now. Take care. If you need anything, call us. Anytime."
Esther hugged both her parents tightly. Theresa followed, blinking rapidly as she wiped her eyes when no one was looking. Their mother kissed each of their foreheads, glanced at Sri Mathi with a kind smile, and whispered a blessing under her breath before stepping out.
The door clicked shut.
Silence.
It lasted three seconds.
"Finally!" Theresa flopped onto the bed dramatically. "Sweet, sweet freedom."
"She's totally going to cry tonight," Esther whispered to Sri Mathi with a teasing grin. "Homesick by 9:30."
"Excuse me," Theresa shot back, rolling over. "I am the emotionally stable one here."
"Says the girl who cried during Mom's dental check-up."
That did it. Sri Mathi laughed—quiet and genuine, the kind that surprises even yourself.
"So," Esther said, plopping down on her own bed, "which department are you in?"
"Artificial Intelligence and Data Science."
Esther's face lit up. "No way! Me too! What section?"
"Section B."
Esther clapped her hands once. "Yes! I thought I'd be all alone, clueless in a sea of coders."
"You still haven't recovered from that Python course?" Theresa asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Don't mock my trauma."
Sri Mathi shook her head, amused. "I actually like AI."
"Same!" Esther said quickly, then added, grinning, "But I also like... you know, people. Especially the cute ones. Some of those boys look like they haven't touched grass in years."
"Focus on food, not boys," Theresa scolded, chucking a pillow at her.
"Correct," Sri Mathi agreed, still smiling.
Theresa winked. "See? I like her."
As they unpacked, the stories kept coming. The sisters talked about Ooty—how it was always misty, how the school principal roamed the halls like a horror movie character, and how the tea shop by the bus stand made the crispiest samosas known to mankind.
In return, Sri Mathi told them about Cuddalore—the quiet beach near her home, the local festival where bangles clinked like music, the way her grandmother sang old Tamil lullabies while grinding dosa batter in the mornings.
"God," Esther sighed. "Your town sounds like a movie."
"It's slow," Sri Mathi said, thoughtfully. "But it feels like home."
At 7:40, Esther stretched her arms. "Mess closes at 8:15, right? Shall we go?"
Theresa groaned. "Do we really want to start college with sambar?"
"Yes," Sri Mathi said, adjusting her dupatta with finality. "We do."
The trio walked down the stairs, feet echoing lightly. The light from the corridor windows had turned a soft amber. A few girls passed by, still giggling about the awkward dance performances from Fresher's Day. The whole building felt like it was finally exhaling.
Outside, the air was heavy but cooler now. The mess hall was already half full. Stainless steel plates clattered. Girls called to each other across tables. The smell of rice, brinjal curry, and warm sambar filled the air.
They collected their food and found a table near the window.
Theresa poked at her plate with a grimace. "Fifty thousand rupees a year for this sambar?"
"Definitely feels like a scam," Esther muttered.
"It's edible," Sri Mathi offered.
"You're too nice," Theresa said.
"She's right," Esther added. "We need her around so we don't become bitter."
They ate slowly, chatting through bites. No masks. No filters. Just the kind of conversation that stitched strangers into something softer.
Back in their room, Theresa immediately grabbed her phone and stepped out onto the corridor.
"Boyfriend call," Esther explained casually. "His name's John. We all went to school together. He's here too—B.Tech Mechatronics, Section A."
Sri Mathi tilted her head, a soft smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "So... we'll be visiting the Mechatronics block often, then?"
Esther narrowed her eyes, suspicious but playful. "Wait. Do you have something in Mechatronics?"
Sri Mathi met her gaze for a beat. Then she let out a slow sigh.
"Not something," she said quietly. "Someone."
She paused.
"An idiot."
Esther blinked, surprised by the calm in her voice.
Sri Mathi turned toward the window, the glass reflecting the warm corridor lights. Her fingers tightened slightly on the hem of her dupatta.
Then, she stood. "I'm going to change," she said, picking up her pajamas from the corner of her bed.
Esther didn't stop her. Just watched as the girl with calm eyes and quiet silences walked out of the room, leaving a question hanging gently in the air.
The door clicked shut behind her.