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Anuj woke up, the next morning, in a new country. He heard the familiar chirping of birds that you hear in India in the mornings. And yes, the birds didn’t have a British accent, if that was what you were wondering about!
As Anuj looked out of the window of his bedroom, he found the sky still grey and overcast. But the grounds looked green and freshly scrubbed. The neighbourhood was quiet, unlike India, with no honking of vehicles or shouts of vegetable sellers disturbing your reverie.
After taking a shower and breakfast, Dilip dropped Anuj to Netherhall House, in Hampstead, for that interview. The Hall was located on a small hill on a street called Nutley Terrace. Anuj hoped it had nothing to do with the nuts staying on that terrace!
The Hall appeared to be just a ten minute walk from the busy street of Finchley Road and its metro station, oh sorry, the “tube station,” as the Brits called it.
The front side of the building was black, but the back was a beautiful brick red with nice slanting roofs. Anuj wondered why that was so. The place was surrounded with trees—the smell of pines immediately caught his attention. There were other trees, probably growing chestnuts, but Anuj couldn’t readily place them. Some trees had pointed leaves and looked somewhat like a maple. Or maybe it was a maple. Anuj noticed some trees with yellowing leaves cheerfully announcing the beginning of autumn.
He tried to move inside the building, pulling his suitcase along, but found the double doors locked. He looked up and down, right and left, hoping for a way to get inside. Was he at the right entrance? Anuj wondered and suddenly felt a mild burning sensation in his stomach.
Butterflies in my stomach, darn!
Just then he heard a voice.
“Have you come to meet someone?”
He looked towards his right and saw a young person, presumably a hosteller, sitting behind a window. The student could be in his late teens, with shoulder length reddish-brown hair. He wore black-rimmed glasses that made him look older for his age and very studious.
“Yes. Mr. Brown,” Anuj replied.
“Oh, good, do come in,” said the student.
Anuj heard a weird electronic sound and the double doors opened. Okay, so the doors were shut by design to keep unwanted visitors out.
Anuj entered through the doors and was guided to a visiting room. The room had black granite floors and placed upon them were four plush sofas. There was a huge wooden clock with a shiny golden oscillating pendulum. It constantly made a tick, tick, tick sound. With every tick, Anuj could feel the beating of his own heart.
The visiting room had a classy feel. Very 60-ish. And very English.
The hosteller, who introduced himself as Kevin, asked him to take a seat. Anuj put his luggage in a corner and sat down on the central sofa. He was trying to enjoy the beauty of the place but the dread of being grilled soon was making him a bit nervous.
Suddenly a man appeared out of nowhere. Fortyish, he wore a white shirt, grey trousers and round rimless spectacles. The brown hair on his head were thinning rapidly.
“Are you An-ooj?” He asked in a clipped British accent that Anuj was dying to hear, and extended his hand.
“Yes, I am,” Anuj stood up and shook the hand.
“Hi, I’m Daniel Brown but you can call me Dan.”
Dan shook hands with a warm smile on his face. The handshake was friendly with no attempt to crush Anuj’s hand. Anuj smiled back nervously.
Hey, this Dan Brown is not so scary after all.
“I think, before we sit down for a cup of tea, you should have a look at our place,” Dan remarked and nodded at Kevin to take Anuj around.
“After you’re done visiting this place, do drop in at my office for a chit-chat,” added Dan.
Anuj was so relieved to NOT hear the dreaded word “interview” till now.
On the round, Kevin, the student-hosteller, told Anuj that the house was divided into two wings—the old wing and the new wing.
“Let me show you the new wing first,” said Kevin, in an accent that hinted that he could be a German.
“Are you from Germany,” Anuj couldn’t help asking Kevin.
“No, I’m actually from Berne, Switzerland,” Kevin replied sounding a little surprised.
“Okay, that explained the accent, as they do speak German in Berne,” Anuj thought and followed Kevin through a door into a well-lit long corridor.
The corridor had a nice blue carpet on the floor and its walls sported a warm cream paint. Kevin showed around the two computer rooms and the library.
He also showed the “store room” where students could put away their empty suitcases so that they had less clutter in their rooms. That was very thoughtful of Netherhall, Anuj thought. Kevin explained that the store room was locked most of the time and the keys always remained with Dan.
Kevin then showed Anuj one of the vacant living rooms that could be allotted to Anuj if he were granted admission. The room was nice and airy with a big square window. There was the familiar blue carpet on the floor. A huge wooden study table was fixed to one wall, and there were shelves above it. On another side, there was a decent sized wardrobe.
And then Anuj saw something he could have never imagined in a hostel room—a sink with running hot and cold water.
“Gosh, if my old college had these in every room, they would be sure leaking all over the place,” Anuj muttered under his breath.
“Wow, this table is so big,” remarked Anuj.
“Oh yes, it is. Actually some students prefer studying with their friends. So we’ve ensured that the table is big enough for two people to study together and share notes,” explained Kevin.
“Wow.”
Anuj then noticed something weird.
“The doors cannot be locked?”
“No. We Catholics believe that every student is like a member of a family. We trust each other like we would trust any other member of our family. And this is one way to ensure trust,” replied Kevin.
The explanation sounded noble and somewhat emotional. Anuj wondered if it was practical as well in the real world.
“I’ve lived in many hostels where laptops, mobile phones and mp3 players were regularly stolen when students forgot to lock their rooms. How do you ensure safety here?” asked Anuj.
“Did you notice the double doors when you entered the building?” asked Kevin.
“Yes, I did,” said Anuj.
“Those doors always remain locked. Only the students who can punch in the correct password can enter. Anyone else has to request the person on reception to let him in, as you did,” explained Kevin somewhat proudly.
Anuj was still not convinced.
“You mean, you have never had any case of theft?”
“Never,” declared Kevin.
That sounded too good to be true.
“Oh and one more thing—there is no Wi-Fi or internet connection in rooms. If you need to surf the internet, you’ll have to move to one of the computer rooms,” said Kevin with a grin.
“What? No internet connection in this modern world? How can anybody live without it?” asked an incredulous Anuj.
“Maybe you can’t. But we Catholics believe that we are becoming a very individualistic, insular society. Students lock themselves up in their rooms and keep surfing the internet the whole day. Or they keep chatting on Skype with their girlfriends,” said Kevin.
“So that’s not a crime. Or is it?”
“No. Except that you’ll then never venture out of your rooms. You will never get to know anyone and will never make any friends. That sure is the curse of the internet,” explained Kevin.
Anuj looked puzzled. The explanations sounded very outdated and very...“Catholic.”
I mean—the internet is a curse? In which century, do these guys live in?
Anyway, there was no doubt that the Hall looked well-kept and the rooms well furnished. Kevin next took Anuj downstairs through a staircase to another room.
“We call this place the lounge. Every evening, after dinner, we have a small get-together here. Students troop in and just chit-chat.”
The room looked like a living room and was big enough to house nearly seventy students. Anuj was impressed.
Kevin next escorted Anuj to the auditorium which was behind the lounge. The place felt cold and dark. And HUGE. There was a stage big enough to perform any kind of play or musical concert. The seats were theatre-quality, and laid out in neat rows.
“This is the auditorium. Every year we have plays and musical shows, especially in December just before Christmas.” Kevin’s voice echoed in the empty auditorium.
“How many visitors can this place accommodate?” Anuj asked.
“Around hundred and fifty,” answered Kevin.
“Nice,” remarked Anuj.
Kevin next took him to the Chapel which was just opposite the lounge. When they entered the Chapel, Kevin bent on one knee and then stood up. Anuj wasn’t sure if he too had to do that but Kevin didn’t even glance at him.
The Chapel had quite a medieval feel to it—cold, dark and with stone floors. The beautiful stained glass windows —blue and red being the dominant colours—looked out of the world. Anuj presumed the themes depicted Biblical tales.
There was a wooden cross at the altar. Anuj felt a strange energy emanating from the Chapel. He was still nervous, but the energy was calming him down.
“This place is the Chapel. But since you’re not a Christian, this place will have no meaning for you. So let’s go,” smiled Kevin.
Anuj was startled. There was something odd about the way Kevin had phrased the comment. The place was calming, and it had nothing to do with him being a Christian or not. Hindus, in any case, believe that God is everywhere. It didn’t matter if a place of worship belonged to Buddhists, Christians, Jews, Muslims, or Taoists.
They moved up the stairs and reached the visiting room they had started from. But Kevin was still walking and he was now taking Anuj to the other side of the building.
“This part of the building is called the old wing,” said Kevin.
Now Anuj realised why one part of the building was black and the other brick red. The black part was obviously constructed earlier and therefore was called the old wing. The new part came later and was naturally called the new wing.
Mystery solved.
Kevin took another staircase and they reached the first floor. He showed Anuj another vacant living room—again with no locks on the door. The room was much smaller and blander compared to the room Anuj had seen in the new wing. Even the study table was smaller here.
“The new wing is infinitely better than the old wing,” Anuj concluded.
The tour had come to an end. Kevin led Anuj back to the visiting room they had started from and gave him a set of rules on a laminated piece of paper to read. Anuj sat down on a plush sofa and started familiarising himself with the rules.
They looked boring. Boring. Boring. Boring.
There were rules relating to meal timings—breakfast, lunch and dinner. Okay.
No shorts or vests in the dining room. Okay.
The double doors will shut sharp at 11 p.m. Okay.
There was one rule that really stood out. Anuj couldn’t hide his smile.
Students were requested NOT to post obscene pictures in their rooms. Done.
The tick, tick, tick of the grandpa clock was still driving him crazy.
From one perspective the place looked strange. It had a weird set of rules. No locks on the door. The explanation was weirder.
But at another level, it all started making sense. The Hall was designed more like a home than a transit accommodation for students. The rooms were as comfortable as your bed room back home. By the way, you really don’t bolt the door from your family members, do you?
No internet connection in rooms. Okay, who has internet connection in every bed room after all? But the place had two spacious computer rooms for internet surfing. And a wonderful library which even had a section devoted to law books.
Anuj thought he could live with this restriction. And in the worst scenario, he noticed there was nothing stopping him from investing in his own personal Wi-Fi dongle from any telecom operator in London.
Doors close at 11 p.m. Anuj knew that some students may resist such a rule, but he wasn’t really a night person. He was actually quite a boring person, as one of his girlfriends had once branded him, who loved going to sleep by 11 p.m. God made nights for sleeping and not for partying or hanging around—was his motto. So ticked again.
What about the other rules? Weren’t they restrictive?
Every place has rules, Anuj concluded. Even your home has some. But they are not restrictive. He found himself nodding at the rule that asked NOT to put up obscene pictures. He’d seen guys putting up pictures of semi-nude women in their rooms at St. Stephen’s College, which he didn’t find pretty or even civilised.
To be fair to Netherhall, the place looked friendly. Everyone had a smile on their faces. Like his Home. Anuj had already forgotten that he’d arrived just a day before in London. This Hall was really feeling like a Home Away from Home. The place was slowly growing on him. He may not mind living in such a place if...
A Big if came to his mind: If he makes it...
Just then, he heard a voice, “Dan is calling you to his office.”
Anuj got up. Kevin came and escorted him to Dan’s office. Anuj’s heart was racing.
Will he make it...
