From Delhi to London: the shocks no one warns you about (and why I'd do it again)

Three months earlier, I'd landed at London Heathrow airport from Delhi, thinking I had this whole London thing figured out. Spoiler alert, I did not.

How did you settle in to life in Kingston upon Thames?

The first week in Kingston upon Thames, I did what any sensible person does when they're overwhelmed: I converted every single price into rupees. Meal deal? Quick math. Coffee? More math. A night out? I'd rather not discuss the trauma. I once stood in Tesco for a solid ten minutes calculating whether a sandwich was worth it. It wasn't the sandwich's fault. I was just having an existential crisis in the chilled section while other students casually grabbed lunch and moved on.

But here's what nobody tells you about that constant mental currency converter running in your head: it stops. Not immediately, but your brain just gets tired of doing mathematics every time you want a snack. One day you just buy the meal deal without thinking about it and that's when you know you're adapting. Small victories.

The grey sky thing though? That took longer to get used to. Coming from Delhi where sunshine is basically guaranteed, I remember my first October in student halls, staring out the window thinking the weather had personally betrayed me.

Then something shifted. I started noticing that when the sun does appear, the entire vibe changes. Richmond Park fills up like it's hosting a secret concert. People sit by the riverside like they're charging their batteries. The appreciation for sunshine becomes almost spiritual.

How did you adjust to your new independence?

Living on your own is its own special kind of chaos. Back home, there was always someone around to answer the stupid questions. Here, in London? Google raised me. I've searched "how to use a British washing machine" more times than I care to admit. I've had genuine confusion about radiators. I once thought my smoke alarm was broken because I didn't realize you had to test it (it was fine, I'm just dramatic).

The raw chicken incident deserves its own paragraph. I saw it in the store, it looked ready to eat, the packaging seemed convincing enough. Got it home, opened it up, and was met with the pinkest, rawest poultry I'd ever seen. Cue panic. Cue frantic YouTube searches. Cue a slightly burnt, definitely overcooked dinner because I was terrified of food poisoning. I texted my mum a photo and her response was just laughing emojis. Very helpful, thanks mum.

When did everything seem to fall into place?

Somewhere between the currency calculations and the kitchen disasters, something clicked. Third year became this weird mix of having my life together and absolutely winging it. The year was filled with library sessions at Kingston Hill, where my project group and I would camp out for hours. Formula Student club meetings somehow made marketing feel less like work and more like organized chaos. Random table tennis matches when we needed a break from pretending to be responsible adults. ResLife events that I actually started going to because of the free food and genuine good vibes.

How did Kingston surprise you?

I expected London to be multicultural but Kingston specifically? The diversity here hit different. It's this mix of international students figuring it out, local students who know all the best spots, and everyone just kind of helping each other survive. You're in a seminar and there's someone from your home country, someone from across the world, and someone from down the road. It's weirdly comforting.

Where did this new found independence lead you?

Now I'm on placement at Ancestry.com, doing the proper London commute, and sometimes I catch myself on the train thinking about how far I've come from that overwhelmed fresher who couldn't operate a washing machine. I'm not saying I have everything figured out, because that would be a lie. I still Google things regularly. I still occasionally overspend. I still get lost sometimes even though I've lived here for years.

But that's kind of the point. You don't move to a new country and immediately become this polished, perfect version of yourself. You stumble through it. You make mistakes that become funny stories later. You have moments where you genuinely question your life choices and then you have moments where you're sitting by the Thames with friends and you think "okay yeah, this is exactly where I'm supposed to be."

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