The First Test: When Reality Struck After Orientation

Almost a week had passed since the first reshuffling test, and we were finally allotted our batches.

Mriganka and I landed in Batch O1—odd ranks got O1, and even ranks were sent to E1. So, Nimesh went to E1. (Remember the reshuffling story from the last blog?)

We were both buzzing with excitement—the journey we had been imagining for months was about to take shape.

Our routine was pretty simple. At 7 AM sharp, Mriganka’s mom would wake him up for school. Once he was done with his bathroom saga, it was my turn to crawl out of bed. We had only one bathroom in our 2BHK flat in Munirka, so there was always a good 10–15 minutes of shouting involved to drag Mriganka out.
By 7:45, we were done with breakfast and on our way to Lal Bahadur Shastri School—a 10–15-minute walk from our home.

I hated walking to school, but Mriganka and both our moms strongly opposed the idea of wasting ₹50 every day on an auto. So, I had to surrender.

The first class of the day was chemistry, and in walked this tall man—around six feet, with a signature grin—CHC Sir, Harish Joshi Sir, our Chemistry HOD.
And man, what a class that was. I had always hated chemistry, especially the Mole Concept. But the way he introduced it—so bold, clear, and confident—it made me fall for the subject instantly. Word had it that he was an IITian too. Whispered gossip, of course. But we believed it.

Then came MBD Sir—Binod Dubey Sir—the legendary maths teacher of Arpit Agarwal, AIR 1 in 2012. Calmest soul I’ve ever seen. Always wore a Sherlock Holmes cap and had this mysterious aura around him.
In his very first class, he casually asked, “Who is Soumyadeep?”
I stood up, a bit startled. He just smiled and told me to sit. I still don’t know how or why he called my name. Never found out. But that moment hit me different. Over time, I grew so connected to him that somewhere deep inside, I felt—I have to get a good rank, at least for this man.

And finally, BGU Sir—Bal Govind Upadhyay Sir—our Physics HOD. He laughed at his own jokes and solved physics like a magician. I genuinely believe my problem-solving skills were born in his classroom.
Even if he couldn’t crack a problem on the spot, he’d sit down with us and talk through his approach, piece by piece. He didn’t just teach physics—he made us feel it. He was the reason I fell in love with the subject.

We used to call them the Tridev.

But to continue learning from the Tridev, there was one condition—qualify for the Sankalp batch, which would be formed after Phase 1 in June. Only the top 30 students would be selected.
That batch would be fixed for the entire year.

And just like that, our first battle began—Phase 1.

Within a week, Mriganka and I realized the competition was way more intense than we had expected. Everyone around us was sharp, focused, and determined. The casual confidence we had initially carried started to fade.

Then came the shocker.

One random morning, CHC Sir walked in and said, “Surprise test on the Mole Concept.”
Boom. No time to prepare. No warning.
And to make it worse, he added an Edge Section—a high-difficulty zone—to identify top performers.

That test wrecked me.

My rank tanked compared to the reshuffling test.
And guess what? E1 batch students weren’t even part of that test. Which meant—this was only a glimpse of what the actual Phase test would look like.
I was shattered. Came home, locked myself in, and cried. For the first time, I seriously doubted myself.

Maybe I wasn’t smart enough.
Maybe I had made a mistake by not preparing chemistry in advance.
Maybe…I just didn’t have it.

I did what I always do when I break down—put on my earphones, closed my eyes, and zoned out. Introspection mode: ON.

But the next morning, I made a promise to myself.

I had two choices—either keep mourning and telling myself “IIT is not for me” or take a deep breath, gather myself, and figure things out.
Because if someone who is an IITian were in my place, they would’ve done exactly that.

To be like someone, you first have to think like them.

I stuck a note in front of my study table:

“I will never give up.”

It’s okay to cry. It’s okay to feel low.
When Chandrayaan-2 failed, even the ISRO Chairman K. Sivan cried his heart out.
But he didn’t stop.
One year later, India made history with Chandrayaan-3.

This journey will take you through a hundred breakdowns, and each of them will shape you.
It might not matter whether you finally make it to IIT or not.

What will matter is whether you deserved to be one.
And IITians—real ones—never give up.

Binod Dubey Sir inside FIITJEE South Delhi Campus

BGU Sir, CAB Sir, CHC Sir in front of FIITJEE South Delhi Campus