The clock on my wall might as well have been laughing. Three months. That was all I had to go from a girl whose memory barely stretched past breakfast to a board exam warrior — or at least someone who wouldn’t cry in front of the paper. Sounds doable, right? Except my brain hit snooze like it was an Olympic sport and went right back to dreaming of a Netflix marathon instead.”

I stared at my notebook, where the syllabus was scribbled in rainbow chaos—Chemistry, Physics, Maths, Biology, Geography, Hindi, English, History—each one a looming mountain I’d have to climb while simultaneously avoiding the sinkhole of distraction. My calendar sat open, mockingly blank except for frantic notes like “Start Real Study” and “Don’t Panic Yet” (which felt more like sarcasm than advice).

“Fantastic,” I muttered, rubbing my temples. “Three months to transform. Or at least to survive the transformation without falling apart. No pressure or anything.”

I glanced at my phone, buzzing with more memes than motivation, and my snack stash, which mysteriously kept replenishing itself as if it were studying too. The truth was, I was wildly unprepared. But if Newton’s laws didn’t see this coming, maybe I’d just make up my own. Something like: *“For every action of study, there is an equal and opposite reaction of Netflix.”*

I laughed at my own joke, even if it felt fragile. “If Newton didn’t predict this mess, then maybe I’ll just rewrite the universe’s script. Starting with a law where faith meets determination, and miracles mix with midnight snacks.”

I pushed back my messy hair and looked at the “Master Plan” I’d attempted — a complicated tangle of scribbles, doodles, and promises to “focus more tomorrow.” It was messy, like my thoughts, but it was something.

Distractions prowled everywhere: the family’s cheerful breakfast clatter, my phone’s persistent pinging, and my own professional-level procrastination skills. “Why do I keep losing to a blinking cursor and a funny cat video?” I sighed.

I started pacing, talking to myself (because who else would listen?), “Come on, Mitali, you’ve survived worse than this. You’ve faced exams before, heartbreaks, and even Monday mornings. This? This is just another mountain. Maybe smaller if you pretend it’s a molehill.”

Tears bubbled up uninvited, because honestly, sometimes it all felt like too much.

"What if I completely mess this up? What if I’m just the girl who stumbled into chaos and never found her way out?” I whispered to no one but myself, the panic rising like a tidal wave threatening to drown all hope.

But then, through the noise in my head, a quiet but stubborn whisper found its way to the front of my mind: *This isn’t your fight alone.*

I thought about what my favourite influencer used to say—how faith isn’t about having all the answers but trusting the One who does. Sometimes, the battle isn’t about my strength but about moving forward anyway, one shaky step at a time.

“I might not have it all figured out,” I admitted, “but I do have this little flicker of faith that somehow, this chaos will make sense… even if it’s just by the time I walk into the exam hall.” I grinned, the kind of grin that comes from knowing even if the worst happens, I’ve already fought harder than yesterday.

So I made a choice. Not to banish the nerves or pretend the mountain wasn’t huge, but to meet it with grit, a dash of humor, and an unshakable belief that I wasn’t alone in this fight. “If Newton didn’t see this coming,” I told myself, “then I’ll write my own rulebook—one that says faith plus effort equals miracles.”

I could almost hear the universe chuckling, but this time, I wasn’t laughing *at* myself—I was laughing *with* the chaos, ready to twist the plot in my favor.

Because even in messiness and moments of doubt, I’m capable of more than I realize. Three months might just be enough time to surprise everyone—most importantly, myself.

And if exams come with the unexpected, well…

so do I.