Tphe sun of August rose gently over Chennai, casting a warm glow over the crowded streets, signaling the beginning of a new phase in countless young lives. For Abhiram Ramachandran, freshly turned eighteen, it was more than just another morning—it was the day he stepped out of the shadows of school life and into the unpredictable world of college.
Born into a middle-class family, Abhiram carried the weight of many dreams—not just his own, but those of his father, mother, grandmother, and two younger sisters. His father worked tirelessly to keep the household afloat, his mother balanced endless responsibilities with quiet strength, and his grandmother, though frail, was a pillar of emotional support.
Abhiram had studied at Government Higher Secondary School, Chennai, near Anna Salai, from Class 6 to 12. The corridors of that school had been witness to his struggles—academic stress, social missteps, and a few regrets he carried deeply. Scoring 50% in his board exams, he knew he wasn't a topper, but he had something else—a 7.5% reservation quota. Yet, fate played its cards differently. By the time his counseling session arrived, all seats under his reservation category were taken. He found himself applying for a course that seemed like the right fit—Biotechnology—simply because he had studied Bio-Maths in school.
But the college that accepted him wasn't nearby. It was in Thiruvallur district, and it came with a fee structure that left his family stunned. Higher than what they could afford, the decision felt like a gamble with their future. But with four months wasted in uncertainty and no better options left, the family made the ultimate sacrifice—selling a piece of their ancestral land. It was a silent promise: Abhiram must make this count.
As he stood outside the gates of his new college on the first day, Abhiram made another promise to himself:
"Whatever happened in the past stays there. I will not believe people who used me before. I will not repeat my mistakes. This is a new chapter, and I want a fresh start."
His school days had been marred by social media addiction, moments of immaturity, and the sting of being mocked by peers. Friendships had been few, trust even fewer. Out of an entire batch, he could count only three true friends. But college, he hoped, would be different—a place where the weight of his past would lift, and he could find not just knowledge but belonging.
He arrived with his mother and grandmother, the two women who had always believed in him. The campus buzzed with nervous excitement—new students, proud parents, and the unknown waiting to unfold. As fate would have it, Abhiram soon bumped into Indrakumar, a familiar face from his school days. They had studied together from 7th to 10th grade, but life had pulled them apart since then. Now, seeing a known friend brought Abhiram a flicker of comfort, even if Indrakumar was in a different department.
Yet, even on that first day, doubts lingered like shadows. Will I face the same kind of people again? Will old mistakes haunt me?
By the second, third, and fourth days, reality began to sink in. He met more students, learned about their stories, and realized a harsh truth—many of them were paying much lower fees. Some said it was due to caste benefits, others because of trust-based scholarships. A few even questioned him directly:
"If you're paying so much, why didn't you choose a better college?"
Abhiram didn't have an answer. Fear gnawed at him. Had he chosen wrong? Was this just another mistake waiting to happen?
But deep down, he clung to hope. This was only the beginning, and the rest of the story was still waiting to be written.