The Journey to Find Joshiha Bell!

"I didn’t find Joshiha Bell that month. But maybe, just maybe, she was about to find me."

Among all the wonderful souls at Thamarai Hostel, one person holds a truly special place in my heart  Joshiha Bell from Room No: 44.
She was different from everyone else, almost as if her very presence tilted the ordinary upside down, even her room mirrored her unique spirit, feeling vibrant and free, untouched by the usual hostel sameness.

Bell belonged to the Literature Department, a world so close to my heart yet so far from my daily reality.

In the early days of my Ph.D., after clearing the NET exam, I had thrown myself into working on the primary sources for my thesis.
But the journey felt lonely, achingly lonely.

In those early, fragile months of my Ph.D., when my world spun in circles of research and endless writing, I often felt a deep, aching loneliness.
My friends from the science departments, kind though they were, could not grasp the fevered passion that literature ignites.
When I spoke of stories and symbolism, of layered meanings and narrative voices, I was met with polite smiles or, worse, careless words:
"It’s just stories."
As if the very pulse of my life could be so lightly dismissed.

So, I grew silent.
I tucked my dreams behind my thesis notes and built walls of quietness around my aching heart.

Then came the whisper, a girl named Joshiha Bell, from English and Comparative Literature, staying somewhere in the hostel.
It felt like a lighthouse appearing on a foggy coast.

Desperate, I begged my neighbor for an introduction.
But every time, the door remained closed, excuses, delays, uncomfortable laughter.
Still, I couldn’t let it go.
I went to the hostel reception, scanning the registers.
I searched the mess bill notices.
I even lingered around unfamiliar corridors, hoping fate would be kind.

But the universe stayed silent.
For almost a month, I searched, and failed.

And yet, something in me refused to give up.
Because sometimes, it’s not about how quickly you find someone; it’s about knowing, deep down, that you are meant to meet them, eventually.

And little did I know, the universe was quietly weaving the strings tighter, waiting for just the right moment to make our paths cross...

Frustration weighed heavy on me.

I even asked Harini, my constant, my patient companion, to help me find her.
We tried everything.
She, too, scanned through hostel corridors, peered into open doors with casual glances, but Joshiha Bell remained a ghost, a name floating just beyond reach.

We searched, laughed at our own foolishness, even grew a little desperate, checking random rooms, hoping to catch a glimpse of the girl who lived somewhere between rumor and hope.
But every effort ended in disappointment.
And with every dead end, I grew more restless, more upset, as if the universe was playing some slow, cruel joke.

One evening, after another long day, Harini and I made our way to the hostel mess, tired and wordless, dragging our feet to pick up supper.
The fluorescent lights flickered above, the metallic clatter of plates filling the air around us.

That’s when it happened, quietly, almost invisibly.

We bumped into Priya, and standing beside her was another girl.
She smiled warmly at Harini and exchanged a few casual words.

I stood there, silent, feeling like an outsider at my doorstep.
I didn’t recognize her; I didn’t know if she was an M.Sc student, a scholar, or someone just passing through.

I stayed back, not wanting to intrude, my heart beating strangely fast.

And in that simple, fleeting moment, life was trying to whisper something to me 
something I was too tired, too caught in my own search, to hear.

At that time, I didn’t know.
But standing right there, just a few steps away, was the girl I had been searching for all along.

"Fate sometimes wears the simplest masks; all we have to do is look a little closer."

The plates in our hands were too hot to hold for long.
Harini and I were almost rushing back to our rooms, eager to escape the mess hall’s noise and heat, when —
suddenly — something unexpected happened.

I don't know what came over Priya at that moment, but she suddenly blurted out, her voice slicing through the air:

"Hey Joshi! This is Swathi, English Department!"

For a second, the world tilted.

Everything around me — the clattering plates, the hum of conversations, the harsh white lights — faded into nothingness.
I froze, staring at the girl beside Priya, my heart pounding so loudly I could almost hear it.

Joshiha Bell.

She was standing right there — so close, so real — not a rumor, not a dream, but breathing the same air as me.

We both gasped, almost in unison, a twin explosion of shock and joy.
Without even thinking, without a drop of hesitation, I stepped forward, my whole body moving before my mind could catch up.

I ignored the burning plates, ignored the curious stares around us.
All that mattered was this, the moment my search ended, and my story with her began.

I introduced myself, my words tumbling out in a mix of excitement and disbelief, while she smiled —
a smile that said she had been waiting too, without even knowing it.

"In that one magical moment, the distance of months collapsed into a friendship that felt like it had been written long ago."

In that magical moment, where time seemed to stretch and fold itself into infinity, we stood there, smiling like two people who had just discovered a secret that the universe had been keeping from them.

But then, as quickly as it had started, the moment was interrupted.
Another person — someone I didn’t know well, yet who seemed to be watching from the edges — suddenly rushed over to us, her presence a sharp contrast to the soft warmth that had surrounded Joshiha and me. She was, perhaps, a little uncomfortable with our newfound connection, a little unsure of the joy blooming between us. And with a brisk, almost impatient tone, she ushered us to move on.

In the whirlwind of emotions, the laughter and the excitement, something slipped through the cracks —
I completely forgot to ask Joshiha Bell the one thing I had spent weeks trying to learn:
Her room number.

We were caught up in the exchange of smiles, the congratulations, the shared understanding that we had finally found each other.
And just like that, as if she already knew the depths of my heart, Joshiha congratulated me on my UGC NET victory, her words flowing with ease, as though this small gesture had been waiting in her heart for a long time.

The world outside faded, and for the first time in a long time, I felt like I belonged.
We shared those few moments, lighthearted and full of possibility, before we all parted ways, the air between us charged with the energy of what was to come.

That day, that very day, would be etched in my memory forever as the happiest I had felt in a long time in the hostel.
In a place that had once felt so isolating, so distant, it suddenly felt like home.

"In that fleeting moment, we didn’t need room numbers, because our connection had already built a bridge too strong to break."