Guts and Glory

The sun shone down mercilessly. The May humidity was too much to bear. Sitting on the windswept thirteenth floor terrace of the building, she wondered how she would surmount the humongous mountain in front of her. Wasn't there a better place to do this, she thought? But in her heart, she knew there was none. It had to be done here, of all places.

For an agonising four months, she had to endure the torture that was the climate on the terrace. Her health already beset with problems galore compounded by the hostile environment at home, she braced herself for the task. At times, the mosaic flooring on the terrace gleamed so much in the sunshine that she could not see anything. Her skin ravaged by sun burn, she plodded on. At times, her frail health could no longer shoulder the burden. But she plodded on, knowing that this was her only chance. This was where emancipation lay. Pain killing injections temporarily numbed her senses to pain. Determination bordering on obstinacy did the rest.

Then came the day that would reveal whether all her labours had been in vain or otherwise. The computer screen was blank. Then suddenly it appeared. Pooja Purohit. Group-I 'PASS'. Group-II 'PASS'. She had done it! She was now a Chartered Accountant, having cleared the final hurdle in her first attempt. It would take a while to sink in.

She cast a glance at the terrace, now under siege from the monsoon clouds. "I did it all up there?", she asked in disbelief. Yes, I said. Glory is thine today, my beloved sister. Take a bow. This is your moment. Entirely yours.