NYAC | 3min Read
Published on May 7, 2026
Refresh
Refresh
I hit refresh. The screen of my old Dell laptop went blank for a second before
returning back to the results page. I’ve practically memorised my roll number by heart
after typing it again and again. My right hand was moving the mouse randomly, and
my left hand was squeezing a stress ball at such intensity that I could’ve choked
someone with it. I’m 10 minutes early to the actual release of the scores, since my
body couldn’t handle the adrenaline.
Refresh. My WhatsApp notifications are bursting with frantic texts from friends and
family. Then, of course, there were the Swiggy notifications, begging me to order
some snacks. I usually give in, but not this time. Sorry, Swiggy.
Refresh. I lightly touch the dark circles under my eyes. The result of staying up day
and night with a textbook, some highlighters, and exam questions. I had lost track of
the dates, living and breathing only to study. Every step I took reminded me of it.
From the high achievers board in school to the “How many chapters have you done?”
texts from classmates.
Refresh. I started preparing 2 years ago. Surrounded myself with all the possible study
material I could. My walls were filled with sticky notes containing random facts and
motivational quotes. Highlighters, notes, and flashcards were strewn all over my table.
I would study more than 12 hours a day, sacrificing my sleep and sanity. There was
school, then this exam, and community service events I would do for profile building.
I don’t know how past me navigated that horrifying mess.
Refresh. A few months into preparation, I cleaned my room and gave myself a “fresh
new start”
. Burnout had gotten the best of me, so I decided to take a break for a day.
That day turned into a week. That week turned into a month.
Refresh. After three months of slacking, my mom forced me to pick up the pace again.
“Do you want to be a failure?” she said. Determined to prove her wrong, I set out to
study again. Only a little more… neat.
Refresh. While my friends were busy partying and being teenagers, I was stuck
cramped in my room, staring at a screen or textbook. Words float across my head now,
ones which I still remembered after the exam, due to hours of mugging up. It was
better than before, but not what I wanted.Refresh. Yet, the goal was to get into the top 200 All-India rank, or T2H. My parents
told me so. My relatives told me so. My neighbours told me so. Looking at my
cousin’s amazing scores, I told myself so.
Refresh. So I didn’t complain and kept my mouth shut. Just work hard enough, and
I’ll please everyone. I’ll be happy once I get the rank, right? And studying did work. I
topped all my past exams. All that’s left is this.
Refresh. My left hand abandons the stress ball, instead twiddling with my hair and
earrings. Why won’t this result just come already? How long will I have to keep
waiting like this?
Refresh. Time was moving like honey. My left eye twitches at the impatience building
inside me. I’m overflowing with energy, ready to run 50 miles without breaking a
sweat, but I stayed in my seat, taking in every detail of my laptop.
Refresh. The results were out. I looked up, eyes squeezed shut, scared to see the
number despite waiting for so long. As soon as I lower my head, my future will be
decided. Will my two years go to waste? Will I be a topper or disappoint everyone?
Topper?
Topper?
Topper?
…
NOT A TOPPER.
Rank 2025.
2025
2025
And my vision went black.
