The Boy Behind the Percentile: A Memory of 12:07 AM

 

: Usually, this blog is about C++, Linux, and my journey through the world of technology. But today, I’m putting the code aside. A few days back,our college had a photoshoot with the placed students of this year. Seeing the happiness on their faces brought back a flood of memories. Writing this blog to get my thoughts out. I want to tell you a story about a moment that stays with me every time I walk through my college gate—a moment that defines why I work as hard as I do.

The Myth of the "Bright" Student 

People see my progress now—the 99.07%tile in PCM, 99.29 in PCB and college topper—and they call me "bright." But I’ll tell you a secret: I was never the bright student in school. I was average. The person you see today wasn't born with talent; I was forged in the fire of 12th grade.

I remember the Sankalp (the vow) I took. I remember the late nights, the constant overthinking, and the "love-hate" relationship I had with that life. I was fighting for a dream—a dream called PICT.

June 16th, 12:00 AM

My family thought the results were coming in the morning. Only I knew they would be out at midnight(one of my senoir told that results of CET always releases at midnight 12:00).

As the clock ticked toward 12:00, the house was silent. My family was asleep, but I was wide awake, my heart racing. Suddenly, the internet failed. In a panic, I had to move to the room where my father was sleeping, searching for a better signal.

He woke up, confused. "Why aren't you sleeping?" he asked. "The results are coming," I whispered.

The Silence and the "Ninety-Nine"

It was exactly 12:07 AM. The room was so quiet that I could hear the sound of my own breath. My hands were trembling so much I could barely hold the phone.

Then, the screen loaded. 99.079 percentile.

In that heavy silence, I didn't shout. I didn't celebrate. I just looked at the screen and spoke two words: "Ninety-nine." I can still see my father’s expression in my mind. He was stunned. The joy and the pride in his eyes at that moment are stored in my heart forever. That was the moment I realized that every depressed night and every hour of struggle had a purpose.

The Gate and the Deferred Dream

Life doesn't always go exactly to plan. Despite that 99 percentile, financial constraints meant I had to break my dream of PICT. It was a hard choice—one that brought tears even after a great victory.

Now, every morning when I enter my college gate, I am reminded of why I am here. This gate is a reminder of the sacrifice I made for my family and the "other" great aims I am now chasing. I am here to make sure that those financial constraints are never a barrier for us again.

Love‑Hate Relationship with My Preparation

I used to love my preparation phase. I would study all day, recap everything at night, and the sense of progress gave me real satisfaction. I kept a record of every mock test—notes, reports, analysis, and even the “Brahmastra” set of previous‑year questions—all preserved for future reference.

Now, because I haven’t revised , many concepts have slipped my mind. Fortunately, I know I can refresh them in a single day, thanks to my formula books and quick‑revision notes. When I was deep‑diving, I was in “ghost mode,” and that was the best part of my life—I loved it.

At the same time, I hated the moments when depression and overthinking stole hours of my time. I still feel the fear of failure, but it’s fading. That fear used to break my confidence and make me feel weak, and I truly hate it.

I remember the three‑hour final exam—a complete thrill. I entered with a plan: skip physics, start with chemistry. The chemistry section went well, though it took longer than expected. Then, without hesitation, I moved to physics. Thankfully, many PYQs repeated, and I ticked several questions without fully solving them, which boosted my confidence. Physics and chemistry were done.

When the maths section opened, fear tried to take over. I changed my strategy at the last minute and jumped to the final questions, which were time‑consuming. I managed to escape most of them, but they ate into my time. Determined not to give up, I fought back, using “jugaads,” SubNEli tricks, and other shortcuts I’d learned—thanks to Ankush Sir for those techniques. I solved over 25 questions with those methods.

Later, I hated having to settle for a tier‑3 college despite scoring enough for a tier‑1 seat, all because of financial constraints. The system feels unfair when hard work and merit are outweighed by economics. I also despise how people claim credit for my percentiles without acknowledging the effort behind them, and how colleges take undue credit for results they didn’t help achieve. Private tuitions that never even met me announced me as their student—a false narrative that misleads the next generation.

This roller‑coaster of love and hate has shaped me. I’m proud of the fighting spirit I showed, yet I’m determined to overcome the fear and misplaced credit that still linger. 

Fighter is alive

After getting success in MHTCET, I learnt many things. I learned to compete honestly, the power of consistency and perseverance. Now consistency isn’t a word for me, its a mantra for sure success. Now I am ready for the next challenges, ready to tackle each one. 

And now,

Code is just the tool. The memory of 12:07 AM is the fuel and the college gate is remainder.

"The results the world sees are just the surface; the silence of the struggle is where the real man is built."

On to the next journey, from a struggling student to the successful one.

Signing off,

Mayur B Gund.