05: The Number That Believed in Me

That evening, I went back home with a quiet purpose—not to rest, but to prepare. I had to pack, not just my clothes, but a piece of myself. The reason I moved back to my hometown was simple: I needed a new dress. Not for vanity, but for something far more meaningful. In just two days, I was headed to Pondicherry University to present my first academic paper. It wasn’t just a presentation—it was a milestone I had worked towards for years. The thought of it made my heart race with both anxiety and excitement.

The past few days hadn’t been kind. A whirlwind of doubts, emotional heaviness, and unexpected challenges had drained me. I wasn’t myself. But the one thing that always lifted me—shopping—was waiting, like a silent therapy I knew would work.

The next day, my parents—my pillars—took me out for purchasing. They knew without words that I needed this. It wasn’t about the fabric or the color. It was about reclaiming joy. Walking through aisles, touching textures, visualizing myself standing with confidence at Pondicherry University—it healed something inside me. I started to laugh again, slowly, sincerely. I began to forget the heaviness I had been carrying. I just wanted to find that one dress, the one that would make me feel ready.

We walked up to the second floor, near the saree section, where soft lights spilled warmth over every rack. My phone buzzed. Unknown number. I hesitated for a second before answering.

It was my guide.

Her voice was filled with joy, almost trembling with excitement.
"You did it! You’ve cleared the UGC-NET. Not just cleared—you’ve got a great percentile!"

For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. I had waited all day for the results. I refreshed the portal countless times—nothing. And now, at 7:00 p.m., while I was lost among kurtas and cottons, it arrived.
The universe always had its own timing, didn’t it?

My mind went blank. I stood frozen in place, letting her words soak in. My parents turned to look at me, confused. I covered the phone, looked up at them, and whispered,
"I cleared it… I cleared NET!"

Tears welled up in my eyes. Not tears of pain—tears of relief, victory, validation. That call changed everything. Suddenly, I wasn’t the girl just searching for a dress. I was the girl who had fought through every sleepless night, every ounce of self-doubt, every failure—and finally made it.

That night, professors, friends, and acquaintances flooded me with calls and messages. My family celebrated me like never before. My parents let me pick whatever I wanted without question. It was as if the entire day was orchestrated for this one moment of pure, unfiltered happiness.

It became one of the best days of my life.

But even joy comes with its shadows. The person who had studied with me, shared the same journey, didn’t clear the exam. That realization hit me hard. Our paths had been parallel until that moment—but now, they had begun to diverge.

From that day onwards, everything started to change.

Success had come, but so did silence—from those I thought would always stand beside me. Some relationships shifted subtly, others cracked. The celebration of my victory quietly became the mourning of a shared dream not fulfilled—for both of us.

But amidst it all, “05”—my lucky number—remained etched in the fabric of this memory. The number that had followed me, comforted me, believed in me—showed me that sometimes, belief is enough to change everything.

And that dress I bought?
I wore it proudly at Madurai Kamaraj University not to Pondicherry University, not just as a scholar, but as someone who learned that life changes when you least expect it—on the second floor, near the saree section, with a phone call that turned an ordinary evening into a lifetime moment.