The Pre-Board Gauntlet

November 24, 2008 (Monday, 5:00 AM)

The alarm clock blared like an overzealous drill sergeant, shattering the fragile silence of Aritra's room. His hand shot out from beneath the warm blanket, fumbling to hit the snooze button with the precision of a sleep-deprived ninja. But today wasn't just any day—it was the beginning of the dreaded 12th pre-board exams.

Rolling out of bed with the grace of a potato, Aritra stared at the calendar pinned to his wall. A big, bold circle marked "Pre-Boards Start Here" stared back at him like a looming deadline in a horror movie.

Great. The academic apocalypse begins, he thought, rubbing his eyes.

After a quick shower and a breakfast that tasted more like cardboard than comfort, Aritra grabbed his bag, stuffed with notes, textbooks, and last-minute revision sheets that he probably wouldn't even look at.

As he cycled toward school, the morning air felt crisp, but instead of refreshing, it carried the weight of impending doom. The usually vibrant streets of Dakshin Barasat seemed quieter, almost as if the universe itself was holding its breath for the students marching toward academic battle.

Meeting up with Deep and Arnab near the school gate, Aritra greeted them with a dramatic sigh.

"Well, comrades, today we march into the battlefield armed with pens and prayers," he declared.

"And a severe lack of preparation," Deep added, his face a mix of panic and sleep deprivation.

Arnab chuckled, "I revised until 2 AM. My brain feels like mashed potatoes."

"Mashed potatoes probably retain more information than my brain right now," Aritra replied.

The school's main hall had been transformed into an exam center, with rows of desks spaced out like miniature islands of despair. The blackboard at the front boldly displayed: Physics Pre-Board Exam.

Of course, we start with the subject that hates me the most, Aritra groaned internally.

Finding his assigned seat, he glanced around. Rimi was seated two rows ahead, her head buried in her notes, furiously flipping pages like she was trying to memorize the entire syllabus in five minutes.

The invigilator, Mr. Sen, a man with the personality of a brick wall, entered the hall with a stack of question papers. His stern gaze swept over the students, silencing even the faintest whispers.

"Keep your bags under your desks. No talking. And yes, I have eagle eyes," he announced, his voice monotone yet somehow threatening.

The question papers were distributed. Aritra flipped his over and stared.

Question 1: Derive the equation of motion for uniformly accelerated motion.

Ah yes, my favorite: pretending I remember how to do this, he thought.

Glancing around, he noticed Deep already scribbling like his pen was possessed. Arnab was staring at his paper, his expression somewhere between confusion and existential crisis.

Focus, Aritra. Focus.

He took a deep breath, picked up his pen, and started writing. The first few questions flowed smoothly, his brain somehow pulling information from the dusty corners of his memory.

But then came Question 5:

Explain the Doppler Effect with proper derivation and examples.

Doppler Effect? More like the 'Dopeless Effect,' he thought.

Resisting the urge to draw cartoons instead of answers, Aritra powered through, scribbling whatever made sense.

After what felt like an eternity, Mr. Sen announced, "Pens down. Time's up."

Aritra sighed in relief, his hand cramped from writing.

As they exited the hall, the post-exam analysis began.

"That Doppler Effect question was evil," Deep groaned.

"I wrote something about sound waves and hoped for the best," Arnab admitted.

Rimi joined them, rolling her eyes. "You guys complain too much. It wasn't that bad."

Aritra grinned, "Spoken like someone who actually studied."

As they cycled back home, Aritra felt a mix of exhaustion and relief.

One down, many more to go, he thought, mentally preparing for the next day's battle.

November 25, 2008 (Tuesday, 5:30 AM)

The morning alarm rang like an unwelcome guest. Aritra groaned, rolling over and glaring at the clock. 5:30 AM. The exhaustion from yesterday's physics battle still lingered, but there was no time to indulge in sleep. Today was the next hurdle: Chemistry.

Dragging himself out of bed, he splashed cold water on his face, hoping to shock his brain into some semblance of alertness. As he stared into the mirror, he muttered, "Come on, genius. You survived Physics. You can handle a few moles and reactions."

After a quick breakfast that tasted more like stress than food, Aritra reviewed his notes one last time. Organic Chemistry stared back at him, mocking his attempts to memorize reaction mechanisms that refused to stick.

Cycling to school, he met Deep and Arnab near the usual tea stall.

"Morning, zombies," Aritra greeted, yawning.

"Speak for yourself," Deep replied, his eyes half-closed. "I was up till midnight trying to figure out Aldol condensation. Still don't get it."

Arnab chuckled. "I gave up at 10 PM. Figured sleep might help more than cramming."

"Smart move," Aritra muttered, though his own sleep-deprived state begged to differ.

The hall felt eerily similar to yesterday, but today's enemy was different. The blackboard screamed: Chemistry Pre-Board Exam.

Taking their seats, the trio exchanged nervous glances. Rimi was already flipping through her notes, her focus unshakeable.

"Good luck," Aritra whispered as the invigilator, Ms. Ghosh, walked in, her expression as icy as the AC that barely worked.

The papers were distributed. Aritra flipped his over, scanning the questions.

Question 1: Explain the mechanism of Aldol condensation with examples.

Aritra stared at the paper. Of course. The first question is Deep's nightmare.

Suppressing a groan, he began writing, hoping to bluff through parts he couldn't recall.

The rest of the paper was a rollercoaster of emotions. Some questions felt like familiar friends, others like distant relatives he barely recognized.

Halfway through, his pen stopped over Question 7:

Describe the IUPAC nomenclature rules for complex organic compounds.

Why do IUPAC rules feel like they were designed just to confuse me? he thought, scribbling something that resembled an answer.

A glance around showed Deep in deep concentration, and Arnab scratching his head like the answer might fall out.

Finally, Ms. Ghosh announced, "Pens down."

Relief washed over Aritra as he stretched his cramped fingers.

Outside, the post-mortem began.

"I swear, that nomenclature question was from another planet," Deep grumbled.

"I just wrote confidently. That counts for something, right?" Arnab joked.

Rimi joined them, smirking. "You boys always underestimate Chemistry. It wasn't that bad."

Aritra laughed. "Spoken like someone who didn't have an existential crisis mid-exam."

The ride home felt lighter. Two exams down.

Just eight more to go, Aritra thought, mentally preparing for the next challenge.

November 26, 2008 (Wednesday, 5:45 AM)

The third day of pre-boards dawned with a familiar sense of dread. Aritra's alarm clock blared again, but this time, he silenced it with ninja-like precision, his reflexes honed by two consecutive days of academic warfare. Groaning, he rolled over and stared at the ceiling.

Mathematics today. The subject that either makes you feel like a genius or questions your very existence.

Dragging himself out of bed, he stumbled into the kitchen where Ma had already prepared a steaming cup of tea.

"You look like you fought a war," she remarked.

"I did. Twice. And today is the third battle," Aritra replied, sipping the tea like it was a magical potion of wisdom.

After flipping through his notes filled with integrals, derivatives, and the dreaded probability problems, Aritra decided to cycle to school, hoping the morning breeze would clear his mind.

Meeting Deep and Arnab near their usual spot, he greeted them with exaggerated enthusiasm.

"Ready to conquer the world of numbers?" Aritra asked, faking a grin.

Deep groaned. "If by conquer, you mean barely survive, then yes."

Arnab added, "I had a dream where I solved all the problems perfectly. Woke up and realized I didn't even understand the question."

In the Examination Hall:

The hall was buzzing with nervous energy. The blackboard boldly displayed: Mathematics Pre-Board Exam.

Taking his seat, Aritra noticed Rimi calmly reviewing her notes, exuding the kind of confidence that made others question their preparation.

The invigilator, Mr. Dutta, walked in, his stern face silencing the murmurs instantly.

"Keep your calculators aside until instructed. No talking. And yes, I will catch anyone trying to cheat," he announced.

Flipping the question paper, Aritra scanned it quickly.

Question 1: Evaluate the integral of (2x^3 - 5x + 1) dx.

Alright, not bad. Let's go! he thought, diving in.

The first few questions flowed smoothly, his pen gliding across the pages. But then came Question 7:

Find the probability of drawing two red balls from a bag containing 5 red and 7 blue balls.

Aritra frowned. Why does probability always feel like gambling?

He scribbled some calculations, hoping the math gods would be kind.

About halfway through, Aritra hit a wall with a tricky geometry problem involving circles and tangents.

Glancing at Deep, he saw him furiously erasing something. Arnab looked like he was meditating on his answer sheet.

Aritra sighed, muttering under his breath, "I wonder if drawing a perfect circle would earn me extra marks."

Mr. Dutta finally announced, "Time's up. Pens down."

Aritra stretched his cramped fingers, feeling both relief and uncertainty.

Outside, the group gathered for their traditional post-exam rant session.

"That geometry question was a trap," Deep groaned.

"I wrote an answer so confidently, even though I'm 70% sure it's wrong," Arnab confessed.

Rimi joined them, smiling smugly. "It wasn't that bad. Just needed to focus."

"Focus?" Aritra laughed. "I was focusing on not having a mental breakdown."

Cycling back home, Aritra reflected on the day.

Three down, more to go. But hey, surviving counts as winning too.

December 6, 2008 (Saturday, 4:00 PM)

The final bell of the final exam rang, echoing through the corridors like the sweet sound of freedom. Aritra dropped his pen, leaned back in his chair, and let out a dramatic sigh that turned a few heads in the exam hall. His hand was cramped from days of relentless writing, his brain fried from an overdose of equations, formulas, and essays. But it was over.

Finally, he thought. The beast is slain.

As the invigilator collected the last of the answer sheets, Aritra exchanged a victorious glance with Deep and Arnab, who looked equally relieved, like soldiers returning from battle.

Stepping outside, the trio was greeted by the winter sun, casting a golden glow over the school grounds. Students buzzed with post-exam chatter, dissecting questions, and comparing answers, but Aritra had no interest in revisiting the horrors.

"No more talking about exams," he declared. "It's officially vacation time."

Deep grinned. "Agreed. I don't want to hear the word 'syllabus' for the next two weeks."

Arnab laughed. "Or 'revision.' That word gives me PTSD."

They cycled to their favorite tea stall, the first stop of their post-exam freedom tour. Sipping on steaming cups of chai, they made grand plans.

"We should have a movie marathon," suggested Deep.

"And maybe a cricket match at the club ground," added Arnab.

Aritra nodded thoughtfully. "And lots of sleeping. I'm starting a relationship with my bed."

They burst into laughter, the stress of exams melting away with each sip of tea.

When Aritra reached home, Ma greeted him at the door with a smile.

"All done?" she asked.

"Yup. I'm officially on vacation," Aritra declared, dropping his bag dramatically in the hallway.

Ma chuckled. "Good. You deserve a break. Dinner's your favorite tonight."

After a hearty meal, Aritra lay in bed, staring at the ceiling with a contented sigh. No textbooks, no notes, just the comforting silence of freedom.

Vacation mode: activated, he thought, smiling as he drifted into the most peaceful sleep he'd had in weeks.