I Watched the Stage from the Stairs (Part 1)

“This is not what I expected from Tech Tatva.”
As I sit by myself on the AB4 stairs with a steaming bowl of Om Xerox Maggi balanced on my knees, the thought strikes me. In the late afternoon sun, the campus is alive all around me, with vibrant banners fluttering in the wind, music resonating from different event areas, and groups of people laughing as if they've known each other for ages. I'm not a part of it, though.

Photo by: Shakti Kundu for MTTN. Edited by: Sounak Bhattacherjee for MTTN
This is not how it was intended to be. I had the good kind of butterflies in my stomach when I woke up this morning. Tech Tatva is my first tech fest in college. I had circled the quiz competition in red ink while scrolling through the event schedule the night before. I had assumed this was it. Here's where I show my worth.
I recall having a rush of adrenaline when I entered that quiz hall. Everything about it felt electric, including the registration desk, the enthusiastic conversation, and the competitive sparkle in everyone's eyes. Without hesitation, I signed up, already picturing myself on stage, confidently answering questions, and possibly winning. When it was my turn, I prepared to dominate by sitting with my shoulders squared.
However, I didn't.
I watched as other participants responded to question after question as if they had read Wikipedia from cover to cover. In the meantime, I stumbled, doubted myself, and felt my self-assurance eroding minute by minute. They were well-informed. I wasn’t. The fact that I wasn't the best, not even close, hit me hard. My ego was bruised but not broken, and the walk out of that hall felt longer than it should have.
I firmly told myself that I would not allow this to destroy my Tech Tatva spirit. So I went exploring, as any hopeful newcomer would do. The pop-ups, art installations, and carnival-like lighting of the walkways were truly stunning decorations. Everywhere, people were moving in groups, using their phones, and documenting every moment. Even though it wasn't mine to share, I enjoyed watching them.
I eventually headed for the food stalls because I was hungry. Colorful banners, elegant menu boards, and the aroma of grilled paneer and loaded fries filled the air as the Tech Tatva vendors set up shop near AB3. I stood there for a while, taking in the festival atmosphere as I watched people lining up and laughing while placing their orders. That's when I saw them, a group of students talking animatedly and looking effortlessly cool. I considered putting myself out there. I approached with a broad smile on my face.
“Hey, are you all having fun?”
The moment the words left my mouth, I knew I’d made a mistake. Slowly and in unison, they all turned to face me as if I had just interrupted a sacred moment. They looked at me as if I had grown a second head or started speaking a foreign language, their eyes flicking up and down, assessing me in a split second and concluding I wasn’t worth their time. The silence dragged on, oppressive and thick, the kind that dries out your throat and makes your skin crawl.
I felt my smile faltering, cracking at the edges, even though I tried not to show it. One girl and her friend exchanged a look that conveyed everything without using words. “Uh, we're kinda in the middle of something”, one of them muttered after what seemed like an eternity, and then they abruptly turned away from me. Literally, as though I ceased to exist.
I backed away and mumbled, “Cool, cool,” barely raising my voice above a whisper. My cheeks were burning. I wanted to put some distance between us, so I turned and walked away more quickly than I had planned, feeling the heat creeping down my neck.
That's when I truly gave up. Plugging in my earphones, I pressed play on Anti-Hero and cranked the volume until the bass drowned out my thoughts. I nearly laughed when Taylor's voice filled the voids in my chest with the words, “It's me, hi, I'm the problem, it's me.” After all, wasn't that the truth? I felt like a supporting character in my own story after spending the day attempting to prove something to everyone, including my team, the judges, and myself.
However, I was shoved forward by the afternoon crowd by the basketball court, and when I looked up, I saw the enormous cardboard cutout of “TT'25” standing tall above everyone. A reality check. I had a completely different idea of this day: a large group of friends and I rushing from one event to another and creating memories. Instead, here I was, all by myself.
I doubled back, still hungry, but not to the Tech Tatva booths. Rather, I went directly to Om Xerox and placed an order for their standard Maggi, the one that's always available, nothing festive or special. It seemed to be my silent protest, my method of distancing myself from something that was obviously not intended for me.
I'm sitting on the AB4 stairs now, watching, with my bowl of Maggi getting cold in my hands. I am only an observer today. The campus is bustling around me. There's a group of friends sprawled on the grass, passing around desserts and cracking jokes that make them double over with laughter. A few meters away, a couple leans against each other, scrolling through photos they just took at some installation, their faces glowing with that effortless happiness. Near the stalls, I spot a squad of five or six people, all wearing matching Tech Tatva volunteer IDs, moving like a unit, like they belong to something bigger than themselves.
And me? I feel the weight of my loneliness pressing down on my chest as I sit by myself and chew mechanically. Seeing everyone else live in this bubble of belonging while I'm stranded on the outside, nose against the glass, is more than just being physically alone. I can hear the echoes of their laughter and see the happiness on their faces, and I wonder what that must be like. To be part of something. To have people who instinctively save you a seat, who text you “Where are you?” when you're five minutes late, who make inside jokes that only your group understands.
When will I no longer be the spectator? When will I feel like I belong here at last?
But it is what it is for the time being.
I've given up on saving today and am halfway through my Maggi when the music abruptly changes. Movement fills the stage near AB3 as second-year Techformals OCs, who are part of the organizing committee, begin pouring onto the platform. People are being drawn in to join them as they dance and excite the crowd. Everyone is getting up and making their way to the stage, enthralled with the contagious energy.
Everybody but me.
I see someone leaving the stage while I'm still on my stairs, fork in hand. One of the OCs, wearing the official t-shirt, is coming directly at me. He's smiling and a little breathless.
“Come dance, dude! Let's enjoy ourselves!”
I try to smile politely while shaking my head. “Bro, I'm not feeling it.”
However, he stays. Instead, he looks at me for a moment while tilting his head. “Isn't there more to the story?”
I pause, then shrug. “Today simply didn't go as planned. I didn't meet any new people. I guess I'm bummed about that.”
To my surprise, he sits down next to me on the stairs. “Do you mind if I chill here and tell you a story?”
I nod, confused but curious. His friends notice from a distance and start calling out. “Bro, let's go na! Everyone's dancing!” They keep gesturing, but he waves them off.
“You know,” he starts, “It took me some time to get used to this campus. I had given up hope by the time Tech Tatva arrived during my first year. Bravo for maintaining your optimism, haha.” He smiles. “However, I did take part in this event alongside a few of my classmates. We didn't click at all, so let's just say they weren't my kind of people. Thus, I was distracted and under stress when I unintentionally entered the ladies’ washroom.” The memory makes him laugh. “Instead of freaking out, this girl from the other team simply asked, “What's up?” while she was there, observing my sullen expression.”
I listen, fork forgotten in my hand.

Photo by: Shakti Kundu for MTTN
Edited by: Sounak Bhattacherjee for MTTN
“I told her exactly what you just told me. She, on the other hand, told me the craziest thing ever,” he gleamed notoriously as he continued, “According to her, a za can fix anything in college. Apparently, za makes everything much better, including the hackathon, the festival, and anything enjoyable, even on some bad days.” As if reliving the memory, he leans back with his eyes averted. “Man, I was really interested. She fulfilled my request for the best za in Manipal. It was the best, really. After that, I made a lot of friends, but her? She’s a sister for life now. Every event we chill, and I feel like I can talk to her about anything; it really is wholesome. Za and her make me just feel so happy and dizzy, it's the best feeling ever.”
He turns to face me. “The reason I tell you this is that even though things may not go your way, you still manage to create memories that you will always treasure. Don't treat having fun as a checklist. Take pleasure in the process. Make peace with your reality. Additionally, you can always come to me for the best za.” He gives a wink.
I sit there, taking it all in. Perhaps, just as they did for him, things might improve for me as well.
Then a thought occurs to me. “Wait... I had no idea that Za was so popular in Manipal.”
The senior chuckles heartily. “Well, pizzas are something we truly adore.” He gives another wink. “Brother, what were you thinking?”
My face flushes. “N-nothing.”
He gets up and dusts off his jeans, saying, “By the way, you're wrong about that; today, you did make a friend.”
He holds out his hand to give a high five. I felt something change inside of me for the first time all day when I met it. Perhaps hope. Only a bit.
I was left sitting there with my icy Maggi and a weird new sensation as he jogged back towards the stage. Like maybe, just maybe, things might eventually be alright, and even if I didn’t make insane memories, at least I got a fun senior story and perhaps a new friend out of it.