My mother called just to ask if I ate, didn't mention the exam even once, and somehow that broke me more than any lecture would have. Their quiet faith is the thing I'm most scared of disappointing.

It's late and I'm doing the maths of my life again: if not this year, then what age, then what will people say. Then I closed the notebook. Some sums are not meant to be solved at midnight. Sleeping now.

The junior in my PG asked me how I stay motivated for a third try. I didn't have a clean answer, so I said 'we don't stay motivated, we just show up on the low days too'. Think I needed to hear that more than she did.

Some mornings I open the newspaper and my chest just tightens before I read a single line. Anyone else feel this exam living inside your body? I've started walking to the Sangam at 6am just to remind myself the world is bigger than a cutoff.

Missed the mains cutoff by four marks last year. Four. I cried for a week and then realised the whole village already thinks I've 'settled abroad' because papa can't say the truth to relatives. Carrying his lie is heavier than my own failure.