Chapter 10: Board Exams and Old Ghosts

I finally took the board exams. I wore a borrowed uniform, sleeves too short, and prayed to every god before stepping into the hall, Nani’s photo in my pocket.

During the exam, whispers buzzed—someone had been beaten, the goondas caught. My pen hovered. Maybe karma had caught up.

After the exam, I kept my room, went to the police whenever I could. The constable waved me off: “Aaj bhi kuch nahi mila, beti.” The waiting room reeked of sweat and patience.

My mother had vanished. The city swallows people whole, and she was just another missing face.

Two months later, I scraped together enough for university tuition. The acceptance letter arrived, ink smudged by rain. I pressed it to my chest, tears running for the first time in years.

When I checked my student records, I frowned. My registration still said ‘Sharma Bungalow, Hazratganj.’ The lady at the desk squinted at my Aadhaar, her eyes wide. “Woh Sharma?” I nodded, pretending not to notice her suspicion.

After my mother’s marriage, my records changed. When we were thrown out, we never fixed it. Offices sent me away for another form, another missing stamp.

Why hadn’t Kabir removed my name? Maybe, as he once said, he didn’t want to dirty his hands with my affairs. Or maybe, like all powerful people, he simply forgot about those beneath him.

I thought university would be my new beginning. Instead, old wounds split open again.

During orientation, I bumped into Ritika Sharma—a ghost from my past.

Her voice cut through the canteen noise. “So it’s you.” Her eyes scanned me, her kurti spotless. For a moment, I was back in school, shame burning hot.

Ritika hurled her cold coffee in my face. The ice stung my skin, laughter rippling around us like winter wind.

“You shameless witch.”

The words echoed. My fists clenched, jaw set. Even here, I couldn’t outrun the curse of being my mother’s daughter.