Chinmay woke up with a start, cheek stuck to a page half-soaked in ink. His journal lay open under his face, the pen still loosely held in one hand. The room was dim, the sky outside not yet bright, but not dark either — that confusing blue that hints at morning.
He rubbed his eyes and stretched, feeling a dull ache in his neck. But something else too — something small but new. As he flexed his arm absentmindedly, he noticed it. A faint curve. Barely there, but definitely more than before.
Five pushups a day. That's all he'd managed. Nothing heroic. But this… this tiny bump on his bicep — it felt like a medal. He smiled to himself, shyly. Not because it looked great — but because it meant he hadn't given up.
The kitchen light was already on. The soft clang of steel utensils and the whistle of boiling water drifted into the hall. Chinmay walked in barefoot, his shirt wrinkled from sleep.
His mother was pouring tea into two glasses.
"Up early?" she asked, not looking at him but sliding his cup forward.
"I slept at the table," he said, picking up the glass. It was too hot to sip, but he held it anyway, the warmth settling into his palms.
"Hmm. Ray Optics still troubling you?"
He blinked. "Yeah. But I think I'm starting to get it."
His mom nodded, wiping the corner of the kitchen slab. "You always get it. You just take your time."
That meant more than it should have.
---
7:00 AM
Books were open. Notebook dated. Timer set.
He started with image formation by concave mirrors — focal length, radius, principal axis. Rays drawn with scale and pencil, arrows neat and sharp.
9:30 AM
Took a short walk to the balcony. Light was golden. Eyes felt dry. He drank water, came back, and continued — now with convex lenses.
His diagrams were getting better. Straighter lines. Fewer smudges. Concepts he couldn't grasp last week now felt obvious.
12:45 PM
Lunch break. Simple dal chawal. He didn't scroll through his phone while eating. Just sat. Ate. Thought.
Then back again.
2:00 PM
He tested himself with HCV examples — Ray Optics part II. The questions weren't easy. But his mind didn't panic.
"Try first. Panic later," he muttered, and surprised himself with a laugh.
5:00 PM
Marked a few diagrams with red pen. Checked the key concept box again — conditions for total internal reflection. Closed his eyes and repeated it twice.
7:00 PM
Done. Not perfectly. But thoroughly.
He stretched again. That small muscle bump still there — this time under soft yellow tube light. He grinned. A five-second flex. Then relaxed.
---
After dinner, his father asked, "Walk?"
Chinmay nodded. They didn't walk fast. Or talk much. But the lane was quiet, trees rustling softly. Dogs barked somewhere far.
"Long day?" his dad asked.
"Yeah. Ray Optics. Killed it."
"Good. I was always bad at that," his father admitted, chuckling.
"Really?"
"Completely. Could never figure where the damn image would go."
They laughed.
The silence that followed wasn't heavy. Just peaceful. Shared.
And as they turned back toward the gate, Chinmay looked up at the stars.
Maybe tomorrow would be hard again.
But tonight — he felt… alright.
And sometimes, that's all you need.
---