Date: April 10, 2009Time: 5:30 AMLocation: Aritra’s Bedroom, Dakshin Barasat

  The faint glow of dawn crept through the dusty windowpanes, casting streaks of orange across the cluttered desk where textbooks, scribbled notes, and coffee-stained question papers y scattered like the remnants of a long, intellectual battle. Aritra’s arm buzzed sharply, shattering the fragile silence of early morning. But he was already awake.

  Sleep had become a luxury—a distant memory tucked somewhere between bancing a tech empire and preparing for one of the most critical exams of his life: WBJEE, scheduled for April 20, 2009. The date was etched into his mind, each tick of the clock a reminder that time was both an ally and an adversary.

  Aritra sat cross-legged on his chair, flipping through pages of Physics formus—Newton’s Laws, rotational dynamics, thermodynamics—the concepts dancing effortlessly in his mind, not because they were easy, but because his determination refused to let them be difficult.

  His study schedule was brutal, crafted with military precision.

  5:30 AM - 7:30 AM: Physics revision, solving complex numerical problems.7:30 AM - 8:00 AM: Quick breakfast with Ma’s persistent insistence.8:00 AM - 11:00 AM: Mathematics—integration, differential calculus, coordinate geometry.11:00 AM - 12:00 PM: Short break, though it often turned into business calls with Ishita and Arnav.12:00 PM - 3:00 PM: Chemistry—organic mechanisms, thermochemistry, and endless practice problems.3:00 PM - 5:00 PM: Business review—checking progress reports, finalizing decisions, managing the growing empire.5:00 PM onwards: Tuitions, mock tests, and sometimes te-night trading sessions when the global markets demanded his attention.Date: April 12, 2009Time: 7:00 PMLocation: Local Tea Stall, Dakshin Barasat

  The evening air was thick with the familiar aroma of masa chai and the distant chatter of students. Aritra sat with his friends—Deep Halder and Arnab Das—the three of them squeezed onto a rickety wooden bench, their textbooks stacked more for moral support than actual reference.

  “So,” Deep started, stirring his tea absentmindedly, “the big day’s almost here. WBJEE. Think we’ll survive?”

  Arnab snorted. “Survive? I just hope I don’t forget my roll number.”

  Aritra chuckled, his mind briefly drifting from matrices and organic reactions to the simplicity of friendship. “If you forget your roll number, I’ll write it on your forehead with permanent marker.”

  They ughed, the sound cutting through the weight of academic pressure. For a moment, Aritra wasn’t a secret tech mogul juggling million-dolr deals—he was just a teenager, stressing over exams like everyone else.

  But the moment was fleeting. His phone buzzed—a message from Ishita:“Project NOVA prototype ready for final review. Need your confirmation.”

  Aritra’s smile faded slightly, repced by the sharp focus of someone living two lives.

  Date: April 15, 2009Time: 9:00 PMLocation: Aritra’s Study Room

  Stacks of WBJEE mock test papers covered his desk. Red ink marks—both victories and mistakes—were scattered across pages filled with diagrams, equations, and hastily scribbled notes. He solved problem after problem, his pen moving with mechanical precision, fueled by muscle memory and sheer willpower.

  But exhaustion crept in like an unwelcome guest.

  Aritra leaned back, staring at the ceiling, his mind slipping into memories of his previous life. The regret of not preparing seriously, the sting of missed opportunities, and the bitter taste of mediocrity haunted him even now. But this time was different. This life was his second chance—a chance to rewrite the ending.

  “I won’t fail this time.” His whispered vow echoed softly in the silent room.

  Date: April 18, 2009Time: 6:00 PMLocation: Family Dining Room

  The dinner table was modest, filled with simple Bengali dishes—bhaat, daal, alu posto, and maachher jhol. His parents sat across from him, their tired faces softened by the warm glow of the flickering tube light.

  “Parikhhar aagey eto kaaj keno, Aritra?” (Why so much work before your exam?) his mother asked, her eyes filled with quiet concern.

  Aritra paused, his spoon halfway to his mouth. “Because I have dreams that don’t wait for exams to be over, Ma.”

  His father grunted, shaking his head. “Just don’t forget—no matter how big your dreams, it’s this exam that’ll decide your future.”

  Aritra smiled faintly, but deep down, he knew better. “My future is already decided. I’m just here to collect the results.”

  Date: April 19, 2009Time: 11:00 PMLocation: Aritra’s Bedroom

  The night before the exam was eerily quiet. His textbooks sat closed, untouched for the first time in weeks. He stood by the window, staring out at the dimly lit streets, his mind a whirlwind of equations, memories, and silent prayers.

  “Tomorrow isn’t just about marks,” he thought. “It’s about proving—to the world, to my parents, and to myself—that I can be both: a genius in business and a student who never gave up.”

  He set his arm for 5:00 AM, pced his admit card neatly in his bag, and finally closed his eyes.

  The clock ticked on, indifferent to the heartbeat of a boy chasing both his past and his future.