Dorm naming ceremony

One of the really good things about IIMA is the fact that all students reside in dorms in groups of some 25 people. Not only don't you have to bother about finding your own accommodation, they also have people come clean your room, do your laundry (albeit for a small fee) and frequently spray the corridors against mosquitos. I'm not sure about the cost-benefit analysis when it comes to that last thing, as the hallways after this always resemble a scene straight from the Battle of Lützen in 1632 with myself as a later version of Gustavus Adolphus Magnus [sic!] attempting to make it back from enemy lines (the communal bathroom) without too much superfluous inhaling. The smell is distinct, that's for sure.

Another good thing about living in a dorm (in this particular case, no 15) is the dorm culture, which is extremely friendly and helpful in all sorts of ways. There are parties and dinners, cinema visits and traditions. One tradition is the dorm naming ceremony. All residents here go under a particular name, which obviously wouldn't be the one they were given as children and, as obviously, not one of their own choice. I received mine yesterday in a most intricate ceremony, which I have no intention of describing in any detail as that could ruin the experience for any future student here. Let's just say there was water and screaming in Hindi (that would be me... several times).

The dorm name is supposed to be based on a story about yourself; I chose the one in which friends of mine (by accident I'd assume...) abandoned me at a St. Petersburg underground station, causing me to almost (a matter of centimetres) miss the night express to Moscow. Based on this incident, my new dorm name, a combination of English and Hindi, is... dam-da-da-dam: RusTy. Not only based on one of the defining moments of my life, it also corresponds with the colour of my hair.