This article has been submitted by Sneha Sanyal for the CLATGyan Blog Post Writing Competition. If you think it’s a good read, ‘Like’ the article (the button is at the bottom of this piece) or post a comment using the ‘Comments’ section below.
The CLAT committee, being over-caring and attempting to bring home the ‘expediency-marathon-cup’, decided to declare the score before declaring the ranks. There I was sitting at my home knitting a sweater and feeding my cats (or other such activities you do when you have all the time in the world) received a call from a dear friend dropping the bomb, “SCORE CARDS ARE OUT!!” Ran a mile and a half, climbed over Mount Everest, swam across the English channel and did 1001 pushups or, in simple and utterly boring terms, downloaded the score card while my poor heart beat at 110 beats per minute. A glorious and mediocre 141.75. Have you read those ‘New York best seller’ romance novels? Those situations when the character’s extremely attractive “meant-to-be” walks by, leaving the character’s throat sand-dry, making him gasp for oxygen and a pulse-rate which had dropped, at this point, to a nearly non-existent level? Well, my reaction was exactly the same, though triggered by the absolute opposite of pleasant. I knew it was near to impossible (not completely, as I firmly believe in miracles) that I’d get into NLSIU Bangalore, even though I had dreamt of studying there since 8th grade. Then came the phase when Tom, Dick and Harry all, at the same time, opined that I’d get NLIU Bhopal in all possibility. I wasn’t ecstatic but convinced myself that it was probably for the best as I was born and brought up in Bhopal. Then came the ‘damned-manufactured by Lucifer-cursed by the wicked witch’- Ranks. Without further ado, I shall shamelessly disclose it – 873! Shamelessly, you ask? Of course! It’s a matter of great shame! My relatives think so and my parents hesitate to answer when Sharma Ji asks about my rank. It must be shameful!
At this point, the poor souls afflicted by the rank-syndrome must have read interviews by this year’s legends. The healthy ones must have done so, too, though the motive may not overlap. Nobody tells you the story of people who scored below the ‘dream ranks’. Those who seem to have made it to the other top NLUs must have experienced a barb or two like ‘If only you would’ve worked a bit harder you could have gone to Bangalore.’ They are the luckiest of the lot. The upper middle class! I’ll tell you how – because when they wake up in the morning, the first thought that shoots in their mind isn’t whether they should take a drop or join a lower NLU, they don’t rush to the computer to check out the latest guidelines with glimmering hope in their hearts that they might get into the top 5 by some divine intervention. Coaching institutes do not advice them that ‘you should take a drop’ and they don’t mull over the teensy-weensy doubt whether they are being given the advice with a vested interest. The infamous relatives don’t tell them how they’ll have all the time in the world because even ‘Sita or Mita’ comes home on semester breaks and she’s in the numero uno college! At this point, even the grocer asks me about my rank when that treacherous sugar runs out at home.
If there’s dusk and dawn, we are the afternoon and as far as I know, nobody likes afternoon. If there is black and white, we are the middle hue – grey! People who didn’t crack it this year must have had it worse. It’s hard and what makes it worse is people rubbing salt on the wound.
Don’t lose hope though and if you can, get used to it. Some people will pounce on you every time it goes down south. There are more unbearable failures and unimaginable successes that will come your way. Tread on! Don’t lose yourself in all of this. Take the decision with a rational mind. Dream big, no matter the circumstances and ignore small minds.
A confused and frustrated student, treading on…