My CA journey began the day I saw my board exam result. I had scored 89.73%. Everyone around me celebrated, calling it an excellent result. My family was proud, my relatives were happy, and my phone was full of congratulatory messages. But inside me, there was silence.
I wanted 90+.
That missing 0.27% felt heavier than all the praise. It wasn't about marks; it was about the standard I had set for myself. I knew I was capable of more.
One of my closest friends, who studied with me every day, scored 80%. He was genuinely happy, and I was happy for him too. But somewhere in my heart, a question kept repeating — what if I had focused a little more on myself? I had always tried to help everyone, explain topics, solve doubts, and manage everything together. Maybe if I had used that extra time only for my own revision, crossing 90% would have been easy.
That small regret didn't break me. It matured me.
For the first time, I understood something important — life will clap for you, but only you will know if you gave your best.
That day, I made a silent promise to myself. I wouldn't settle again. I would choose a path that challenged me. A path that demanded discipline, sacrifice, and strength.
And that was the day the thought of CA entered my mind.
I didn't know then how difficult it would be. I didn't know how many sleepless nights were waiting for me. I didn't know that along with books and balance sheets, emotions and relationships would also test me.
But I knew one thing —I was no longer the same girl.
That morning, my results were scheduled to be announced at 11:00 a.m. I woke up earlier than usual. My heart felt restless, and my thoughts wouldn't stay calm. Before checking the result, I went to the temple with a friend.
He was not my childhood friend. I met him in 11th and 12th, but we only started talking properly at the end of 11th. It began with a simple message for some small reason — a doubt, a note, something ordinary. I never thought that a small conversation would turn into a strong friendship.
Standing in the temple that morning, I folded my hands and closed my eyes. I prayed not just for good marks, but for strength. When I opened my eyes, he looked at me and smiled softly, as if saying, "Whatever happens, it's okay."