After a soul-crushing, time-freezing, brain-melting 45-minute morning prayer, we were all forced to listen to our respected Principal Sir—also known among students as "The Unskippable YouTube Ad."
Every. Single. Day.
And like always, he began his legendary speech:
"This is your golden opportunity…"
"This school is your temple of success…"
"You must study day and night…"
"Our school is very proud of its graduates…"
Honestly, if we got ₹1 every time he said "golden opportunity," half the students wouldn't even need jobs after school.
The real shocking part?
He doesn't pause. At all.
Not even for water. Not even for breathing.
I'm 90% sure his lungs run on backup generators.
And yes…
Despite looking like a small, well-fed hippo in formal clothes, the man is shockingly fast.
If you whisper even a single word—
"Why is he still talking—"
BOOM.
His head snaps in your direction like a CCTV camera.
"You there! Yes YOU! What is so important?"
Students instantly:
"Nothing sir "
(internally: "Sir, your speech has entered Season 5, please end it.")
Meanwhile, below the stage, the real entertainment was happening:
"Bro, what minute is this?"
"45th… I think we are in overtime now."
"Extra time after prayer "
"I heard last year batch is still standing here listening…"
One guy even started a betting pool:
"100 rupees says he repeats 'discipline' 10 more times."
"Done. I say 15."
Another one behind me whispered:
"If talking was an Olympic sport, sir would bring gold for India every year."
And I swear, someone actually yawned so loudly that it echoed like a lion's roar.
Principal paused for 0.5 seconds…
We all froze like statues.
Then he continued again.
Mission failed. He resumed.
Finally… after what felt like one full century in cricket terms, the speech ended.
No applause.
Only relief.
We all started marching back to our classes like prisoners released on parole.
Now, let me remind you all—
I'm technically a 10-year-old kid.
But plot twist…
I study in Class 8.
Yes, you heard that right.
Thanks to my "system" (which I totally didn't grind like a game cheat code) and my insane discipline, I already completed the Class 10 syllabus before even hitting double digits in age.
Basically:
Other kids: "Mummy, homework is hard "
Me: "Finished next two years' syllabus, what next?"
Anyway, I reached the school building.
Our classrooms are on the third floor—also known as:
"Daily Fitness Test Without Permission."
No lift. Of course.
By the time you reach the top, you've already done your morning workout.
Thak… thak… thak…
Hundreds of students climbing in rhythm like a marching army.
By the third floor:
Some students are breathing like they just ran a race
Some are adjusting their ties and trying to look "normal"
One guy is already mentally tired before first period
"First class hasn't even started… I need a holiday."
Finally, my class:
Class 8(A)
Right beside it is 8(B), then further down 8(C) and 8(D)—
a full lineup of sections from A to D.
The corridor is wide and well-maintained, with large windows letting in bright sunlight and fresh air. The polished floors reflect the morning light, and everything carries that disciplined, structured vibe of a well-funded school.
Inside the classroom:
Neatly arranged desks and benches in perfect rows
A clean, well-maintained blackboard ready for battle
Proper ventilation and lighting that actually keeps students awake
Notice boards filled with achievements, toppers' photos, and school pride
Everything screams:
"This school means business."
And of course…
The classic seating politics still exists:
Front benchers = "Future toppers / teacher's favorites"
Middle benchers = "Balanced life players"
Back benchers = "Legends / comedians / future entrepreneurs (maybe )"
Naturally…
I sit in Class 8(A).
Because where else would the main character be?
As I stepped into Class 8(A), the noise hit me first.
Not loud… but layered.
Whispers. Murmurs. Half-hidden smirks.
The kind of atmosphere that screams:
"Breaking News: You are today's headline."
I walked in calmly.
Bag on shoulder.
Face neutral.
Full main character entry mode activated.
(Inside: "Alright Vijay… let's see what today's episode is about.")
The classroom looked perfect as always—rows aligned neatly, proper spacing, everything maintained like a model school.
Discipline so precise, it almost felt like:
Student : Teacher ratio = perfectly balanced… like some educational golden formula.
But students?
Yeah… not so balanced.
As I walked past the rows, whispers slowly became audible:
"Isn't that Vijay?"
"Yeah…"
"I heard his house got mortgaged…"
"Seriously??"
Another voice joined:
"His family had money, right?"
"Yeah, but I heard they spent a lot recently…"
A pause.
Then the classic dramatic tone:
"Bro went from rich to… school bus squad "
I kept walking.
No reaction.
(Inside: "School bus squad? Nice upgrade. At least I don't have to deal with traffic.")
Another group whispered a little louder than necessary:
"Why would they mortgage their house though?"
"I heard something about studies…"
"Studies?? Who risks their house for that?"
One guy leaned in like he was revealing a national secret:
"Global academy competition… something like that…"
"Wait… THAT big competition?"
"Yeah… I think he's preparing for it."
Silence for a second.
Then—
"That's insane…"
"Or stupid…"
"Or both…"
I finally reached my destination.
The Last Bench.
The legendary seat.
The throne of freedom.
The place where:
Teachers' eyesight magically weakens
Questions rarely reach
And peace exists
I placed my bag and sat down comfortably.
From here, I could see everyone.
And more importantly—
Everyone was trying not to look at me… while definitely looking at me.
Another whisper floated in:
"So it's true?"
"Yeah… his family mortgaged their house so he could participate…"
"That's too much pressure, man…"
"If he fails…"
The sentence didn't even need to be completed.
I leaned back slightly.
(Inside: "People really love incomplete dramatic sentences.")
Yes.
It's true.
My family mortgaged our house.
Not because we were careless.
Not because we were desperate.
But because I chose to step onto a bigger stage.
A global academy competition where students from everywhere compete.
And that requires money.
Preparation. Travel. Resources.
So yeah…
Now I come to school like everyone else.
In the school bus.
Sitting with other kids.
No private car. No special treatment.
Just another student.
But the funny part?
They think it's a downgrade.
(Inside: "Honestly… bus rides are more entertaining than their gossip.")
Another whisper:
"If he loses, what happens?"
"His family is finished…"
"Too much risk…"
I closed my eyes for a second.
Then opened them.
Calm.
Focused.
My name is Vijay.
And yes—
My house is mortgaged.
My family took a risk.
But they didn't bet on luck.
They bet on me.
And from this last bench…
Watching everyone whisper…
I just smiled slightly.
Because while they're busy discussing my fall—
I'm preparing for my rise.