After school, college is the time you take that first step towards your dream in a world of several unknowns, in a world where you don’t know anyone, and you’re all by yourself. Coming from a well-disciplined family where I polished my shoes a night before going to school to entering the world where polished shoes were considered uncool, I had taken a huge leap of sorts.

I grew up in a small town of Hardoi, and Delhi was nothing short of a culture shock to me. Not that I came from some back-of-the-beyond village, and yet I have to confess that there were way too many gaps that reminded me of my ‘backwardness’.

Here is a list of seven such confessions of mine when I have felt rather ‘misfit’ in Delhi.

 1. How the glittery iPhones overshadowed me:

Steve Jobs invented the iPhone as a symbol of status. Little did he know how out-of-place someone would feel with a standard phone in their hand, hanging out with a crowd which almost always discussed the latest iPhone.

Or maybe he did. That’s why the tagline – If you don’t have an iPhone, you don’t have an iPhone.

This is not a tagline, but a punch in the pit of my stomach, especially when everyone is showing off their glittery iPhones with blingy back covers and I am busy hiding your middle-class phone. My model? Pa-no-drama. The phone that can pan, and has some ram too.

2. Mac Lipsticks and the branded products:

A small town girl can speak at length about any topic. She can give you great advice on relationships et al. and can prepare an essay on respecting the world in general despite all its diversities and conflicts within a snap of a finger. But talk to her about Mac lipsticks, and she’s going dumb. She doesn’t know the difference between a Ruby and a Red.

Ditto with me.

My friends are discussing the sort of eyeliners that look good on upturned eyes, downturned eyes, almond eyes, and monolith eyes and I am wondering what that means. Didn’t eyes remain either black or brown till now?

It leaves me feeling desperate to contribute to the conversation, but I always fall short of words.

3. Night outs? What are they?

A small town girl has never danced in a club. She has never been on a road trip without her parents. Therefore, when my friends from the metropolis are discussing their experiences of going wild, I just listen. And smile.

Growing up in a small town meant asking parents for permission for every decision big and small. It always took a few days of rehearsal. In fact, to get the permission, I needed to take a master class from my experienced friends before pitching the story to my parents.

4. Fewer experiences to share about life

I don’t have crazy ‘bhand’ stories from my schooldays, or memories of the times when I sneaked out of the house to attend a party. That’s because I never did. My life was relatively simple and uneventful.

Adventure for me was going to tuitions after school where I’d get to hang out with guys of different schools and sometimes eat momos. Prank calls to random guys on my phone-book and chatting with my crush on Facebook when my best friend stayed over for a night were the highlights of the adventure in my school life.

5. “Ahem, I don’t drink or smoke.”

I don’t yet understand the world where smoking and drinking is readily accepted and is a part of day-to-day life. I am staying firm on my decision of staying a teetotaller and consistently keep saying ‘no’ whenever I am asked to drink or smoke. Not because I am not ready yet.  But probably because I have been trained to think that this is a road to hell constantly.

However, I wouldn’t deny that it’s not easy to keep up with this choice and the fear of being left out pushes you further to down the hill.

6. The Big Bad World

It is quite difficult for me to settle in a new world. I often feel left out and haven’t been able to find like-minded people. If I do manage to find people who think like me, I fear that I wouldn’t be able to step out of my comfort zone or experience new things.

And these questions that haunt me will probably resonate with any small town girl. ‘Is it okay to enjoy the change? Is it alright to think that freedom is fun? Will Mummy Daddy be okay with it?’