Navodaya – My Accidental Escape Plan

 I was never the studious kind of kid. My sister, on the other hand, was the definition of studious. At home, she was the star everyone had their hopes pinned on. So, when she scored 92% in her 10th board exams—her lowest ever score—our house was filled with silence and long faces. Meanwhile, when I got 73.5%, my parents were celebrating like I had cracked the IAS!

That’s when I figured out life’s secret: keep expectations low and overdeliver. (Haha, works every time!)

My father was deeply invested in my sister’s education. Since we couldn’t afford to send her to an English-medium school, he bought English-medium textbooks and taught her both English and Malayalam syllabi at home. In my memory, she was always surrounded by books. And honestly, I used to wonder, “Why do I have this kind of sister?” I had imagined someone who liked to play—not someone who lived inside textbooks!

One day, our teacher announced that applications were open for the Navodaya Entrance Exam. My sister was in 10th at the time, and I knew she’d be leaving for hostel soon. And that meant one thing—my turn under Pappa’s academic microscope was coming next. That’s when I saw the Navodaya exam as my golden escape.

I asked my father if I could apply. Without even blinking, my parents said yes—with full confidence that I wouldn’t clear it. After all, my genius sister had once tried and didn’t get through. So their logic was, “Let this little one dream.”

After that, whenever someone told me to study, I’d pick up my sister’s Navodaya entrance guide or my father’s bank test books and start solving picture-based questions. To me, it was like solving puzzles, not studying.

Finally, the exam day arrived. My father came with me to the center. Just before the bell rang, he said, “Let me quickly have a cup of tea.” (Classic Pappa! He always wants tea right before something important.) The bell rang and he wasn’t back yet—but I didn’t wait. I went ahead and gave the exam.

Afterward, most kids were saying it was an easy paper. I wasn’t so sure—I knew I had gotten at least three questions wrong. So I didn’t expect anything. Neither did my parents. We didn’t even check the result when it came out.

But my teacher did. And she came to school with the big news—I had cleared the exam!

I was thrilled. I rushed home and told my mother, and we double-checked the newspaper just to be sure. While I was on cloud nine, my parents were quiet. Now, both of their children were heading to hostel. The thought of an empty home was hard on them.

I remember having a heated conversation with Pappa. I told him I had earned this and he couldn’t stop me from going. Eventually, he agreed—not because he was okay with it, but because he didn’t want to be the one holding me back.

Back then, I didn’t understand the pain they were feeling. I was too excited about my new beginning. But today, as a mother of two, I finally get it. I understand that silence. That ache. That strange feeling of pride mixed with heartbreak when you watch your children take their next step without you.