Contrary to popular belief, an intelligent person isn't born; it is made. I was 12 when I met the
person who shaped my destiny. It was night, and I was at a birthday party when I first encountered her.
The very first moment that I met her, she already left me in awe. At 11 years old, she could already
calculate the areas of two-dimensional regions and compute the volumes of three-dimensional objects,
integral mathematics. On the other hand, I couldn't even figure out how to multiply 2-digit numbers.
We became best friends, though we had our fair share of arguments. I vividly remember how our
first fight started. It was in the middle of a festival called Navratri, a nine-day dance festival to show love
and respect to a goddess. She was always there, dancing gracefully. She was an expert in Garba, and
every time she danced, it was a beautiful sight. As for me, I was a terrible dancer. Over the course of
seven nights during the festival, I tried dancing alongside her and always ended up flat on the ground.
One night, she'd had enough and threw me out of the dance floor, insisting I should learn before
attempting to dance again. That's when our arguments began.
On a random day, while we were hanging out at my home, she took my cake and ran away with it.
I chased her and found her hiding in someone else's house. When she saw me, she grabbed a potted plant
and threw it. The pot broke with a loud noise, alerting the people in the house. When they arrived to see
what happened, she blamed me for throwing the pot, and everyone scolded me while she laughed. Despite
all this, we continued to hang out, engaging in mischievous activities like stealing our neighbor's
undergarments and tossing them at some bachelors' house. We did this for an entire day.
We had a lot of fun together, and when my birthday came around, I invited her. It was my 14th
birthday, and the venue was a newly opened store. Time passed quickly, and I waited for her, but she
never showed up. When I returned home, I immediately went to her house to ask why she hadn't come.
When I arrived, I was confused because everyone was crying. It turned out she was supposed to attend my
birthday with her father, but a tragic accident had occurred on their way, and her father had died on the
spot. She was in the ICU, connected to various medical devices.
She was my only friend, and seeing her in that condition devastated me. It affected me so deeply
that I developed schizoid personality disorder, making it hard for me to express myself and socialize with
others. I had already been diagnosed with ADHD at a very young age. Despite my parents' efforts to teach
me, including my father being an engineer and researcher and my mother being a teacher, I struggled to
learn due to my brain's limitations. I even failed classes in grades 1 and 2.
In an attempt to treat my conditions, I was sent to another town, but both traditional and modern
medicine failed. I grew increasingly frustrated until I had a dream. She appeared in the dream, urging me
to pursue what I loved and never give up. Her words planted a sense of hope within me. I escaped from
the hospital and reached the Himalayas, not far from Assam where I was initially being treated. There, I
encountered a monk who helped me and contacted my parents. They agreed to support my journey to
recovery. During this time, I immersed myself in Hinduism and Buddhism, studying texts like the
Bhagavad Gita and gaining knowledge in areas like Ayurveda and geography. I learned about my purpose,
the universe, and the multiverse. I even practiced martial arts.
After two years, I returned home at the age of 16 and had to take a 10th-grade exam after only
three weeks of study. Surprisingly, I achieved a 73 percent score, which was outstanding for me. During
this period, I reached my peak, overcoming my conditions and becoming the person I am today.
In 11th grade, I developed a love for science and received support from a friend who was
proficient in computers and AI. I had no prior knowledge of these subjects, but with the help of another
friend, I learned how computers work. I was thrilled with my progress. However, half a year passed
without any contact from her, and I believed she was gone. Then, I received shocking news: she was alive
and living in a different district. Without hesitation, I ran away again, this time to see her.
When I finally reunited with her, I learned about her condition. Due to the accident, she had
difficulty speaking, and her words were barely audible. Additionally, she had been diagnosed with lung
cancer and was given only two years to live. This news shattered me, and I asked her what she wished to
do during those two years. With a hoarse voice, she expressed her desire to become the smartest person in
the world. Meanwhile, I simply wanted to spend as much time as possible with her. She eventually took
an exam with Oxford University and gained admission, which left me furious. I cried every day because I
desperately wanted more time with her.
Then, the COVID-19 pandemic struck, and she became stranded in the UK. My frustration grew,
and I stopped communicating with her. I scolded her and said hurtful words that I shouldn't have. She
only smiled in response.
One day, I received a call from a hospital, informing me that she wanted to see me. She had
returned from the UK. Seeing her again brought back memories of everything I had lost and everything I
wanted to hold onto. When she saw me, she sat on her hospital bed and apologized for everything,
especially for hurting me. A part of me broke that day, and tears flowed freely. I asked her if she had
achieved what she wanted, and she replied that what she had accomplished was enough. She then asked
me to make three promises, which I readily agreed to: to become the smartest person alive for her, not to
blame myself for her situation, and to accept someone who wanted to love me.
Today, I am fulfilling those promises. I have become one of the top students, consistently ranking
first in examinations. I am pursuing both my degree and PhD in computer science simultaneously. I live
this life in honor of her, cherishing knowledge the way she did. However, I find it difficult to trust anyone
else. Her memory constantly lingers in my mind, making it challenging to love another person. My love
for her transcends words, and it has opened my heart to the world. I also study international relations and
am currently involved in government research. Though she is no longer with me, fragments of her life
remain within me—a home, a lesson, and a story worth sharing.
My love for her may stay painfully silent but I know, it beats words. It beats worlds.
She is now a star in the sky, shining as a single strip of light.
