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My fingers were constantly tapping on the desk, faster and faster, matching the rhythm of my heartbeat. The screen right in front of me seemed to mock my nerves, loading at its own slow, cruel pace. My whole body felt tense, like I’d been holding my breath for hours.
I am very nervous at this point like seriously, my heart is thumping so loud I can practically hear it echoing inside my head. The screen is loading like it’s enjoying my torture, “For god’s sake, please increase your speed.”
It’s weird how a few seconds can feel like forever when your future depends on them. The screen was hyping up that it’s about to reveal my future and reality, and here I am, freaking out because I have no idea what’s coming in a few minutes. My hands are trembling, and I keep biting my lip.
I was getting nervous from time to time, whispering prayers under my breath.
I keep assuring myself, “Everything will be alright, Ruhi. Everything will be fine.”
But somewhere deep inside, that little voice of doubt doesn’t shut up.
My parents are standing right next to me, eagerly waiting for my result. They look calm, but I know them too well that calmness is just the surface.
Behind those eyes, they are already calculating, expecting, hoping for nothing less than perfect.
Then suddenly, a notification pops up saying the results portal is live. Oh God, please help me out here.
I open the screen, type in my roll number, and just pray, ‘Please is baar sab accha ho’
(Please, let everything be okay this time)
I know how much effort I’ve put into this, those sleepless nights, skipped meals, crying quietly because the syllabus never seemed to end. I gave it my all. The screen displays my result, and my eyes dart across the lines. My heart literally stops for a second when I read it.
For a moment, everything goes quiet. My brain freezes, and I blink twice just to make sure I’m not seeing things.
Yes! It’s showing 93.2%! Hurrray! I scored 93.2% in my 10th board exams. Yay…!!!!!
Guess what, I aced my 10th board exams with a score of 93.2%!
I was all set to celebrate, but then I noticed my dad was on a call and my mom gave me that curious look, probably wondering about my marks.
“I got 93.2%,” I said, smiling nervously, waiting for that warm proud reaction, a hug, a smile, maybe a “we are proud of you.” But their faces stayed unreadable.
Their reactions were neutral, almost cold. My excitement slowly faded. My smile trembled. For a second, I thought maybe they didn’t hear me properly. But they did. And that’s what made my chest ache.
My mind started racing with negative thoughts…Are they not happy? Did I disappoint them? Was it not enough again?
And then my dad had to go and say, “That’s all, just 93.2%?”
Seriously? Just,…I was so stuck on that one word ‘just’… Are my grades aren’t good?.
“God, Ruhanika, you know what I got a call from my friend Tarun. He said his daughter got 93.3%, do you know what it means……it means she’s at least 0.1% better than you,” my dad kept on.
It broke my heart to the core that my father was still comparing me, even when I gave everything I had.
“But it was just a 0.1% difference,” I mumbled weakly, my voice trembling, barely holding itself together.
He didn’t hear the pain in my tone. Or maybe he did and chose to ignore it. I couldn’t make sense of anything. I suddenly felt small, useless, like my effort didn’t matter anymore.
“Ruhi, ek baat suno meri aaj kal ki zamane me 93% laana koi badi baat nahi hai. Aaj kal ke bacche 99% scores kr rahe. Tumne Mishra ji ke bete ko dekha 97% marks score kiye hai usne! So khud hi socho kya badi baat hai sirf 93% laane me ….huhh!!!”, my mumma said.
(Ruhi, let me tell you, getting 93% in today’s world is no big deal. Kids these days are getting such high scores effortlessly. Have you seen Mishra ji’s son? He scored 97%! So, think to yourself what’s the big deal in getting 93%…)
Every word she said felt heavier than the last. My chest tightened, my stomach felt sick. But nothing came out. My voice choked up.
“It’s not that great marks, but from now on, you need to aim for 95% +,” my dad added making a stern face.
I just nodded along, and as soon as they left my room, I went to the bathroom and threw up everything.
Yeah it happens when I’m anxious about something, I end up vomiting
I end up crying after vomiting. It sucks, even though I got 93%, it’s still not enough for my parents.
I always work hard to make them proud, but they never seem satisfied. There’s always someone better, always a new comparison, always a “you could have done more.”
They say they want the best for me, but sometimes it feels like they just want me to be the best, even if it breaks me.
I was evaluating how my parents are obsessed with good grades….no, not good, perfect. And in their dictionary, perfect means 100%. I just wish they could see the effort, not just the number. The nights I cried silently, the headaches, the stress.
Sometimes I wonder if they even remember the nights when they found me asleep on my books, or when I used to wake up early 3 a.m., solving equations with heavy eyes. They only remember the report card. The result. Not the process. Not me.
Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. I quickly wiped my tears with the back of my sleeve, forcing my face into something that looked close to normal. My chest still ached, and my eyes were burning, but I couldn’t let anyone see that.
When I opened the door, it was my grandpa. His gentle smile instantly melted a part of me I had been holding too tightly all day. He didn’t ask what was wrong. He didn’t have to. He just looked at me with those soft, knowing eyes, the kind that say, I understand, even if you don’t tell me.
I awkwardly smiled, and he hugged me, which made me hold back my tears. He cheerfully said, “Congratulations, meri gudiya…you did it,” and then pulled out a chocolate bar from his pocket, to which I replied softly, “Thank you, dadu.”
That simple gesture, just a chocolate made me feel calm. No lectures, no comparisons, just warmth. I couldn’t help but smile softly.
After chatting for a bit, he went for his evening stroll. I watched him walk away and felt this silent happiness in my heart. He is just amazing. Even if I scored 50, he would still be proud because he knows what it took. He always sees my effort, not just the outcome.
I love him for that.
Later, I sat down to fill out my grade 11 entrance application. My hands were still a little shaky. The screen looked blurry because my eyes were still stung from crying. But I had to do it. The form had to be submitted by the day after tomorrow.
You might be curious what I am choosing….well the answer is obvious….science, and why I’m choosing science, well, honestly, I don’t have much of a choice.
I am Ruhanika Oberoi , recently got my 10th board exam result.
Well both of my parents are doctors, my grandpa was a well known surgeon but now he retired, my dad is a neurologist and my mumma is a gynecologist and recently my brother completed his MBBS. Growing up surrounded by doctors, it was understandable that I would choose a career in medicine.
So, I’ll be going for PCB and will be pursuing medicine. Well, I do want to study medicine because I genuinely want to help people and save lives.
But I just wish my parents had encouraged me to explore other career options instead of solely pushing me towards becoming a doctor since my childhood.
I was ready to study medicine, but I wish my parents had told me at least once to choose a career path that feels right for me, at least for formality.
Everyone wishes for their parents to support their dreams. I wish that too. But maybe it’s okay if that’s not the case for me right now.
I never really thought of any other profession. Surrounded by doctors, I just… lived with the idea. It became normal, almost automatic… like breathing.
It just feels like someone else is throwing their expectations on me, and I am standing here, trying not to drop them.
Maybe one day they will understand that I’m not rebelling. I’m just tired of being someone I’m expected to be.
“Stay focused on yourself and your goals, Ruhii,” I whisper it to myself, again and again. My voice sounds small, but determined.
“Yes… Ruhi, you can do it…”
I try to sound excited, like the confident version of me everyone sees on the outside but inside, it feels like a dimming light, struggling to shine the same way it once did. No one can hear the quiet hiss, but I can feel it, the slow fading of energy, the quiet ache of pretending everything’s fine.
Well Ruhi is my nickname as people thought Ruhanika is a long one, i don’t think so my name is so pretty and easy to spell but still some species are too lazy to spell a name..huff..
Ahh I forgot i also have to fill my new school form as i want to change my school as my parents are shifting again to delhi, yes our native home is in Delhi but for hospital work my parents shifted to Mumbai when I was 10 years old.
Now I am going to delhi again….at least far from this place….this place just haunts me to the core… The other reason for my happiness is I don’t want to continue to study in my previous school.
That school and the people I met there are worse than Voldemort.
I am not even exaggerating.
It sounds funny when I say it out loud, but deep down, it’s not really a joke. I don’t have friends. Never did. I tried, I really did.
Smiled when I didn’t want to, helped people with notes, laughed at their jokes. But people always seemed to avoid me, whispering things behind my back.
I never knew why. Maybe I was too quiet. Maybe I wasn’t the type to gossip or fit in. Or maybe I was just easy to overlook.
Some days, it felt like I was invisible. And honestly? Being invisible hurts more than being hated.
But that’s okay. I am happy that I’m leaving that part of my life behind, “I promise myself that now, I’ll focus on myself. Just me.”
Maybe this time I’ll learn to love my own company without feeling lonely. Maybe Delhi will be different.
With that thought, I fill my form and start packing my luggage. Each folded shirt feels like closing a chapter, a quiet goodbye to the version of me that kept pretending everything was fine.
After dinner, I crawled into bed, exhausted. The silence of the night feels heavier than usual. My mind drifts between sadness and hope, like I am floating in the middle of two worlds…one I am leaving and one I haven’t reached yet.
“I hope my new journey brings me new happiness,” I whisper softly to myself. My voice cracks a little, but I don’t mind.
But little did I know what this phase of my life holds for me.
And with that, I close my eyes, not realizing that tomorrow will be the first page of something I never saw coming.
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Chapter 1 out…!!!!
So how was the First Chapter…???
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Does anyone relate themselves to Ruhanika….??(・_・)
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And don’t jump to the conclusion before reading at least 15 Chapters….and the story just started so maybe a few chapters may seem boring but trust me….and I am trusting the process😊
Bye Cutiepies 🍁
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