Title: The Time My Hostel Warden Thought I Was Getting Married to My Bunkmate

It was back in 2018, during my school days in Badarpur, Assam. I was in 10th grade, and our school hostel was within the same compound as the school itself. It was the crucial time of the 10th board exams, and naturally, the pressure was immense. Students in the 10th batch, like me, would study late into the night, and occasionally, some 9th-grade students joined us. Among them was a 9th grader who happened to be my bunkmate. To break the monotony of studying, we’d often chat late at night, sharing ghost stories, discussing movies, singers, and everything under the sun. Those conversations were innocent, a way to unwind after long hours of cramming. Sometimes, we’d even share stories while lying on our beds, speaking in hushed tones so as not to disturb anyone. Now, our hostel warden was quite a character. A strict disciplinarian, he had an obsession with enforcing time management and ensuring we stayed focused on our studies. His room was just 6 to 8 hand spans away from ours, so he could easily overhear any noise. Unbeknownst to us, our late-night whispers had triggered the Sherlock Holmes in him. He must have convinced himself that something scandalous was happening. To him, it wasn’t just innocent chatter—it was something "sexual" or utterly inappropriate. I remember him stepping out of his room a couple of times, pretending to go for a midnight pee, but it was obvious he was trying to catch us in the act of...whatever it was he had imagined. One fateful evening, after dinner, he summoned both of us—my bunkmate and me—individually to his office. The moment I entered, he stared me down like I was a criminal caught red-handed. His first question was so absurd it’s etched in my memory forever: “Do you want to marry each other?” I was floored. I stared at him, utterly bewildered, while he launched into a tirade. “Is this the time to study or to engage in such activities? What do you two do so late at night? Should I call your parents and tell them what their son is up to?” He was yelling so loudly that I thought his eyes might pop out of his skull. I tried my best to explain, fumbling for words. “Sir, we’re just friends. We only share stories to pass the time. There’s nothing more to it.” But he wasn’t having it. He was so convinced of his fantasy that he started sharing his version of the story with other staff members, some of whom I deeply respected. The humiliation was unbearable. The worst part? I had no way to prove my innocence. His mind was already made up, and the incident haunted me. It became a massive source of stress during an already challenging time. My grades suffered because I couldn’t focus, and the fear of being judged prevented me from sharing this ordeal with anyone. To this day, the memory of that night shocks me. It’s not just the absurdity of the accusation but the sheer helplessness of not being able to defend myself against someone’s misplaced assumptions. What was meant to be a harmless friendship turned into a bizarre story of suspicion and shame that I’ll never forget. Looking back, I wish I could’ve handled it differently, maybe stood up for myself more confidently. But at 16, in a conservative environment, you’re just not equipped for such situations. All I can do now is laugh at the absurdity of it—but trust me, it wasn’t funny back then. TL;DR: In 2018, during my 10th-grade hostel life, a bunkmate and I used to chat late at night, sharing harmless ghost stories and random topics. Our strict hostel warden misinterpreted our whispers as something inappropriate and accused us of wanting to "marry each other." Despite explaining that we were just friends, he spread his version of the story, causing me immense stress and poor grades during my board exams. To this day, the bizarre misunderstanding still haunts me.