I’ve been through three consecutive admission seasons at this point. It has been an incredibly bittersweet journey.
I was just another aspirant, preparing alongside many. I never considered myself an academic person. But I genuinely enjoyedthe learning, the solving, the figuring out. I started getting noticed because I was doing well in the mock tests. I talked with hundreds of aspirants. I made friends. We’d do vocab competitions, rant, vent. We’d talk about kibhabe amra Mentors er jaigai tutors khulbo. IBA te chance paile eta korbo, ota korbo. We were all equally passionate, equally driven. When I pictured university life, it was all of us doing the shit we talked about.
And then came the results. I stood first. It was something I had “dreamed” of. But as I celebrated, I looked around and realized that the friends I had prepared with, the ones who had worked just as hard and dreamed as much, weren’t there. That guilt hit me hard, and honestly, it hasn’t left me since.
I thought, If I could help someone else achieve their dream, maybe I’d feel like I’ve done enough. So, I started mentoring admission students. I met some of the most hardworking and lively individuals I’ve ever known. In our classes, we laughed, ranted, and worked on it together. I got to hear their stories, the weight they carried, the struggles they had, and how much they cared about this one institution.
To outsiders, it might seem silly investing so much energy, emotion, and time into an admission test. But I understood it. I had lived it. I knew what it felt like. So I tried my best to help them, to guide them, and to be there for them. I tried to leave no stone unturned. But even now, I feel like I’ve fallen short. I thought I could make a real difference. Yet, when the results came, I was reminded again that this journey isn’t always fair.
Among all this chaos, I’ve felt so much love and appreciation. More than I ever deserved. Thank you so much for that. I’ve never been a people person. I only started interacting with so many people when I saw others feel left out. But I appreciate how everyone has always accepted me with open arms.
After three years of pouring my heart into this, I feel tired, drained. I need time to heal, to breathe a little. I hope HSC 25/26 kids understand, I’m not ready for the endless calls and texts just yet. I will teach when I get the energy back.
My students, whether they got in or not, are a good part of my life. I will do anything for them. And I wish them all the good things life has to offer. The book doesn’t end with one chapter. Life doesn’t end with one result. There’s always more waiting out there.
Keep going. Keep believing. From here on, write your own story. Well, this was mine.