Date: January 15, 2009Time: 8:15 AMLocation: DBSA High School, Dakshin Barasat
The towering blue gates of DBSA High School creaked slightly as Aritra stepped through, the cold metal brushing against his fingertips as if to remind him that today was different. The usual sounds of morning chatter echoed off the worn-out school walls, but beneath the surface was an undeniable tension—an invisible current pulling every student toward the same destination: the notice board near the staff room.
The walk across the cracked concrete yard felt longer than usual. The air smelled of dust and faint traces of chalk powder, mixing with the subtle bitterness of anxiety that clung to Aritra’s chest like a weight. His school bag, though light with just a few notebooks, felt heavier than ever.
He spotted Deep Halder and Arnab Das leaning against the rusted metal railing near the old banyan tree. Their faces carried forced smiles, the kind people wear when trying to mask the storm brewing inside.
“Oi, Aritra! Esho re! Aj toh sobar din.” (Hey, Aritra! Come on! Today’s the big day.) Deep called, his voice ced with a nervous chuckle.
Aritra gave a half-hearted smile. His stomach churned—not from hunger but from the relentless ticking clock in his mind.
Time: 9:00 AMLocation: Cssroom 12-B
The final css before the result announcement dragged on like an eternity. The teacher’s voice, usually sharp and authoritative, faded into the background, drowned out by the collective anxiety humming through the cssroom. Students exchanged nervous gnces, some biting their nails, others tapping their pens rhythmically on their desks—a feeble attempt to distract themselves.
Aritra sat by the window, staring out at the sun-drenched school grounds. His reflection in the dusty gss showed more than exhaustion; it showed fear—the kind that settles deep, coiling around the heart. His mind pyed cruel tricks, fshing moments from the exam hall: unanswered questions, skipped revisions, second-guessing answers he thought were correct.
Rimi sat a few rows ahead, ughing softly with Anirban Roy, her confidence radiating like an invisible shield. She hadn’t even looked at Aritra since morning. Maybe she didn’t need to. She already knew her results would be good.
Time: 10:30 AMLocation: School Grounds, Near the Staff Room
The final bell rang, releasing a wave of students flooding toward the notice board. The narrow corridor leading to the staff room became a bottleneck of anticipation, filled with hushed whispers and shallow breaths.
Aritra stood beside Deep, his heart pounding louder than the commotion around him.
“Tor toh kichu hoye na. Tui toh always top e thakis.” (You’ve got nothing to worry about. You’re always at the top.) Deep said, though his voice cked conviction.
Aritra forced a nod, his throat too dry to respond.
Time: 11:45 AMLocation: School Notice Board
The door to the staff room creaked open, and Mr. Sinha, the stern mathematics teacher, appeared holding a stack of freshly printed result sheets. Silence rippled through the crowd like a shockwave.
With practiced precision, Mr. Sinha pinned the sheets onto the notice board. A collective breath was held—then chaos erupted.
Students surged forward, their fingers tracing down the lists, eyes darting from name to name, rank to rank. Aritra pushed through, his heart racing, his pulse deafening.
And there it was:
DBSA High School Pre-Board Examination Results (Science Stream)RankNameRoll No.PhysicsChemistryMathematicsBengaliEnglishTotal Marks1Anirban Roy19492919092459/5002Rimi Saha148890898589441/5003Souvik Ghosh68588879087437/5004Meghna Pal48687858889435/5005Priya Dutta38486888591434/5006Deep Halder98385908689433/5007Aritra Naskar28284898592432/5008Arnab Das118086878490427/5009Tania Sen127889858388423/50010Rahul Chatterjee48183848286416/50011Sneha Mukherjee57782858189414/50012Ananya Ghosh127981838085408/50013Kunal Basu137680847986405/50014Ishita Roy147583817887404/50015Abir Ghosh157479808085398/50016Arpita Das197877798182397/50017Nikhil Saha227278777984390/50018Manisha Dey247176787885388/50019Pratik Roy257374768083386/50020Ritika Banerjee307075757784381/500Aritra’s eyes froze.
432.7th.
His name, tucked neatly beneath Deep’s, felt like a scar etched in ink. The numbers blurred, but the reality was clear. He’d fallen. Hard.
His breathing grew shallow. The walls seemed to close in. The ughter, the whispers, the casual congratutions exchanged around him—all became distant echoes.
And then, the final blow.
Rimi walked past him, her hand brushing against Anirban’s arm as she ughed, “Told you, Anirban, you’d be the topper. Guess some people just can’t keep up.”
She didn’t even look at Aritra.
And that hurt more than the marks ever could.
