In the calm setting of a college residence hall, amid bustling hallways and chaotic dorm life, resided a student named Kutty, whose adventure began in 2022. After Completing 12th Grade, She was full of energy and eager to participate in the university experience her parents had planned for her.

In an instant, her hostel room transformed from a haven to a prison. The mirror in my hostel room reflects my image, although I sometimes question whether this reflection accurately portrays my identity or is instead a distorted portrayal shaped by the unspoken standards and dissatisfaction of my temporary residence. My hostel life—this strange, alien world—feels like a game of chess, and I’m the pawn, pushed around by forces much greater than me, never allowed to stand tall like the king in my mind.

I was previously enthusiastic about enrolling in this college, to be among individuals with similar aspirations, to pursue my ambitions, and to shape my future. The college met all my expectations: the lectures, the ambience, the library, and the autonomy of selection. However, the arrival of the hostel instilled in me the sensation of being a mere pawn in a game characterized by ever-changing rules, with the pieces perpetually positioned against my favour.

Kutty had never been sociable, favouring isolation and tranquillity above huge gatherings. She was unprepared, however, for the constant conflict with her roommate, More. Living together was intolerable because of their conflicting personalities. In the end, the formerly enjoyable college experience was frustrated by the way little problems turned into recurring disputes. Kutty first made an effort to adjust, going through the agony while hoping for it to end. It didn't, however. When phoned by her parents, the warden attempted to resolve the dispute by proposing a short-term ceasefire. However, the weight persisted. The once peaceful dorm atmosphere was turned into an ongoing argument between the two students who were caught in a vicious circle of misunderstanding.

At first, I tried to make it functional. Disregarding the impending sense of loneliness, I tried to assimilate and become part of the group. As time went on, I noticed something odd. The individuals tasked with caring for us lacked empathy and understanding. They were impolite and contemptuous, seeming more concerned with establishing their authority than with resolving the problems of the students.

They would utterly reject my comments as nothing more than "rumours." The minor problems, which included lengthy wait times for the biometric system, strict rules, and poor communication, were handled indifferently. I felt imprisoned and had to fight invisible forces all the time, but no one seemed interested in listening. I hoped my folks would understand when I tried to express my frustration.

But when I told my parents about the stress, the disorganization, the endless rules, they listened, but in the end, they didn’t really understand. They were hopeful, so they convinced me to remain and try again. "It’s part of the experience," they told me. "You’ll get used to it." However, I felt increasingly isolated and suffocated from the person I used to be with every day that went by.

Kutty started to withdraw into her room amid this turmoil, taking comfort in her books, articles, and the legal profession she had grown to love. That was easier. By focusing on her studies and blocking out the sounds of the outside world, She can attempt to ignore the conflict in her room. Her bed became a haven where she could concentrate on her work without fear of being judged by others.

Even when she was by herself, Kutty was not impervious to the nasty comments made by others. At one point, a woman from the hostel staff approached her and said that her wish to stay in the room was a sign of mental illness. "You never come out," she said. "It’s not healthy to isolate yourself like this." Kutty dismissed the remarks, telling herself they were unimportant. In the end, she had a clear objective in mind: she was here to study, to learn, and to do more than just fit in.

Kutty became more and more lonely as the months passed. She continued to focus on her studies, learning the ins and outs of the law and using her leisure time to further her skills in painting, writing, and crafting. She even began to sing to pass the time, and the noises echoed off the walls of her small chamber. Despite being perceived as a recluse, Kutty found solace in the coping mechanisms she had developed to deal with the demands of school life. Her alone time turned into a haven where she could develop herself and pick up new skills. After that, a crucial event changed my life completely.

One day, following yet another encounter with a hostel administration who dismissed my concerns, I was strolling down the corridor when I suddenly realized I needed to call my teacher. She was the first person who ever focused entirely on me and recognized the potential in what I had to offer. "Try art," she suggested, observing my irritation. It was a simple yet effective proposal.

Stay loyal to yourself. You can use it as an escape. But all changed when a new college head arrived. He was drawn to the pupil who never appeared to leave her room. "Why don't you participate in college activities?" asked the head. Kutty clarified, "I would rather stay inside," in a firm yet composed tone. There, I can focus and learn. The Head suggested that Kutty try something new, like painting and creating, in an attempt to take use of her enthusiasm.

Reluctantly, Kutty gave it a try. The painting tools, paintbrushes, glass paintings, resin art and sketches helped her begin to express herself in a new way. She was no longer just a student imprisoned up in her room; She was creating art, trying new things, and learning. Her room, which had begun as a sanctuary, had transformed into a sort of studio where her thoughts, emotions, and dreams were hidden in every corner.

Despite the baseless stories that circulated about her, such as the idea that she was troublesome and worried her roommates and supervisors, Kutty stayed dedicated to her job. Because of this misunderstanding, the institution thought she was antisocial and unable to adapt to the social dynamics of a dorm room. They were blind to the quiet determination that drove her actions.

It was the noise, not the people, that she was avoiding. She was not hiding, but growing, learning, and refining her skills, using the alone to prepare for a moment when she might really make a difference. Kutty didn't care that the hostel atmosphere was still judging her. Her viewpoint, her struggles, and her efforts to remain composed and focus were never taken into consideration.

She had learned to let go of her need for approval and to disregard the criticism. At home, her family understood her, and in her hometown, those who knew her saw her potential. It was enough.

There were moments of anger, like the time when the hostel in-charge was rude to her, and Kutty responded sharply. She reacted defensively to protect herself from the constant pressures. But she moved past such situations and focused on her education and growth as a person. As the days turned into months and Kutty continued her calm journey in the hostel, she found solace in the reflection of her efforts.

Kutty recognized that she was becoming stronger and more resilient in spite of the outside obstacles, much like a chess pawn gazing into a mirror and seeing the image of a king.

Although others around her might not comprehend her journey, she was aware of its direction.

The future self that the monarch in the mirror symbolized, shaped by the quiet moments spent in her room, was irrevocable. I then began to draw. At first, it was a distraction from the growing tension and a way to kill time. But over time, the act of creating, of putting my feelings onto paper, became a lifeline.

The colours and lines on the page began to reflect something deeper within me, a part of me I hadn’t realized was still there. I also started writing down my thoughts, including brief bursts of frustration, realizations, and moments of hope. Over time, the area that had seemed like a prison gradually changed into a place where I could unwind, think, and simply be.

I spent all of my time in my room. I decided to stay indoors, where I could possibly find some privacy away from the hustle and activity of the hostel. The mirror in my room no longer showed a tired student but rather a person growing, learning, and adapting to the challenges of life. Outside, I was a pawn, but inside, I was the king of my own domain. Even though I hated the rules—the long waits at the biometric system, the harsh discipline, the stifling air of authority—I learned to let it go.

I would follow the rules because, at the end of the day, that was the game I had to play. But that didn’t mean I had to lose myself. In the quiet of my room, I discovered a world where I was free to think, to create, to explore. It wasn’t perfect, but it was mine. The frustration still lingered, especially when I thought of the five people who seemed determined to tarnish my reputation. It was as if they were playing their own game, trying to knock me off the board.

But I wouldn't allow them to prevail. I stayed in my room, kept my head down, and focused on what really mattered. I had built an indestructible fortress of ideas and imagination, even if the outside world was trying to break me. I still missed home. I missed my family's love, the comfort of my own bed, and the small joys of being surrounded by kind people.

But the college, the education, and the opportunities were too important to forgo. So I stayed. My room's mirror, which reflected my weary visage, no longer represented failure. It served as a reminder that I could remain strong even under the most trying conditions. I might have had pawns all around me, but I wasn't defeated like a chess king. I was just waiting for the right moment to make my move. The game wasn’t over yet. And so, She continued. The room, the bed, the books — they were her tools. The judgment, the misunderstandings — they were mere obstacles in her path. Kutty had found his way, and in the silence of her room, she was becoming the person she had always known she would be.

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