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Letter to Mother Telling Her Why You Dislike the Hostel Life

Examination Hall,
A. B. C. (City).
March 11, 2014.

My dear Mother,

I hope that this letter of mine will find you in the best of your health and Spirits. I am in receipt of vour glorious letter and was delighted to go through its Contents. As usual, you encouraged me a lot and gave me a few pieces of advice. Letters of parents for children living away from home are no less than bounteous boons, The letter is brimful of your soft-hearted sentiments and wonderfully warm feelings. It has showered me with motherly affection and love. It also Suggests that you want to know about my views and experience of hostel life and how I am spending my hostel life.

I must say, in all honesty, the hostel life is as tough as old boots. I have been on tenterhooks since I began to live in the hostel quite away from home. have tried to adjust myself here but could not. It is deficient of actual attraction and candid charisma. The hostel provides poor surroundings and modest living condition. It is a place totally void of any pleasant thing and hence not a place worth-living. There is no arrangement for cleanliness here. The sweeper does not bother to clean the floors. The dirty plates are seen lying scattered here and there in the rooms, corridors and windows. The Contractor of our mess is very careless and cunning. He is playing with the health of the students. The mess food is substandard although its charges are heaven kissing. The chapattis are not properly baked. The pulses contain small stones. In spite of the repeated requests to the contractor for providing the Supply of healthy food-stuff, he is turning a deaf ear. The dishes prepared by you were always delicious. Whenever go to the dining hall, I begin to feel homesick. Would that I had the wings of a dove so that I could fly to you and enjoy your dainty dishes.

Moreover, it is an abode of contumacious Cronies and rowdy residents. The whipperSnappers living here do nothing except to do bawdy business and follow pornographic pursuits. A few of our seniors keep their tape recorders working at a troubling voice. They clap hands, sing songs and dance and befool every new Corner. Utter uproar at ear splitting treble, total tumult and sinister slogans have turned this place into a pandemonium. The clattering of shoes in the gallery does not stop till late at night. Since we are junior, we cannot dare to protest their behavior, lest we are tortured.

Many of the boys living here are idlers, slow-witted, sluggish and even Stupid who have no serious aims of life. But I still manage to make some friends. The clamor and clatter of this cacophonic climate exert adverse effect on my serves. Whenever I sit to study, there here occurs some commotion in the corridors and everything vanishes from my mind that I have learned with so strenuous efforts.

Mother, you know, I am not used to such uproarious environment. The calm, soothing and serene sphere is my appetite. I love tranquility and peace. I love
"A little noiseless noise among the leaves,
Born of the very sigh that silence heaves"
- (John Keats) -
Crowded and thronged places do not mesmerize me. Rather I despise the multitude. How can I be pleased in the presence intruding interferers? Surely, you can estimate the anguish I am experiencing here at this place. Briefly speaking, I do not want to live in the hostel anymore. I want to live in complete tranquil atmosphere. Thomas Jefferson says:
"It is neither wealth nor splendour; but
tranquility which give you happiness"
I may prefer to live in a rented building even. To of my classmates are living in a rented house. A room of the house is still lying vacant, They have agreed to accommodate me with them. They are serious and studious students. They know my temperament also. Surely, I would feel at ease there. Please consult with father about this matter and do grant me your consent to live with them. I promise to work my fingers to the bone to show you better results. Waiting for your generous permission.
With regards and love
Yours affectionately,
X, Y, Z.
Letter to Mother Telling Her Why You Dislike the Hostel Life

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