6:42 in the morning.
Chinmay sat on the edge of his bed, feet touching the cold tile. A silence hung in the air — not peaceful, just still. His body wasn't ready. His mind… maybe even less.
He splashed cold water on his face — sharp, jarring. A second splash. Third. It didn't wake him up, not really. But it was tradition now. One of the few things that had stuck.
He wiped his face with an old towel and stood in front of the mirror. Hair unkempt. Eyes sunken. No music played. No motivation video ran in the background. Just him, bare and blunt.
Then —
> "Five pushups," he muttered.
He dropped to the floor. Arms stiff. Chest grazed the ground, then up. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. He sat back, breath steady. No adrenaline rush. No surge of power. But he had done them.
7:10 AM.
He opened his notebook. One problem — a ray optics setup with a combination of lenses. Looked simple. Felt simple. Should've been simple.
He tried it.
Wrong.
Tried again.
Still wrong.
Checked every line — step by step. Rechecked the Cartesian signs. Focal lengths. Direction of light. Every damn arrow.
> What the hell am I doing wrong?
He paced. Came back. Sat again. Solved it from scratch. Same error.
Again.
By now it was 8:15. Over an hour. One question. And nothing made sense.
He leaned back, stared at the ceiling.
> Is this how it always goes?
Am I just... not smart enough?
But then, somewhere in the fog of frustration —
A thought blinked in.
> Wasn't there a doubt session scheduled today?
He picked up his timetable — mostly ignored these days — and saw it.
8:30 AM. Ray Optics Doubt Session.
> "No way," he whispered.
It felt like the world had left a door open. Just a crack. But open.
He pulled on a loose T-shirt, grabbed his bag, and left. No overthinking. No mirror-checking. Just out.
---
8:34 AM
The classroom was brighter than he remembered. Sunlight poured through large windows. The fan hummed in the background. Sir was already solving something on the board.
Chinmay slipped in quietly and found a seat near the middle. Not the corner. Not the back. Just… there.
He hesitated. Then raised his hand.
Sir noticed.
> "Yes, Chinmay?"
It still surprised him, that teachers knew his name.
He walked up, showed his notebook. Explained the error — or his inability to find one.
Sir listened. Nodded. Took the pen.
A few strokes. A correction.
> "You're treating this lens like it's in air. But it's not — the setup mentions water."
Chinmay stared. How did he miss that?
It was right there.
> Of course.
> "Good attempt though," Sir added. "You're thinking in the right direction."
He walked back to his seat — mind still digesting the answer. But something else had started to shift too.
He sat down. Looked around.
There were people.
Real people.
A guy beside him scribbled notes furiously. Two girls were discussing something about the Cartesian plane. One of them laughed — a soft, sudden laugh, and for a moment, Chinmay caught himself smiling too.
Not at her. Not because of her.
Just… smiling.
They were just there.
Not romantic interests. Not side characters. Just people existing.
He asked a doubt to the guy beside him. Got a clear answer.
Then, casually, one of the girls turned and said,
> "That was a confusing diagram, right? Even I got the sign wrong first."
Chinmay blinked.
> She's just… talking. To me?
> "Yeah," he replied, voice steadier than he expected. "I spent over an hour on it."
> "Happens," she smiled.
And just like that — for the first time in over a year —
He didn't feel like an outsider. Or a ghost. Or some weirdo stuck in his own head.
He was there. Present. A student. A person.
---
11:20 AM.
Class ended.
He didn't rush out.
He stayed back. Sat for a few extra seconds. Let it all soak in.
> So this is what normal feels like.
Not dramatic. Not overwhelming. Just okay.
And okay was beautiful.
---
2:15 PM.
He sat back at his desk now. The afternoon light slanted through the window. The air felt different.
He opened his notebook. But not to study.
He reached for the back page — the untouched one — and wrote at the top:
> 2 May – Journal Entry
Day I Stepped Out Again
He stared at the page for a second.
Then began to write.
---
[To be continued in Chapter 16…]