Bismay Mohanty

"Whap!!!" A slap landed squarely on my cheek. I was in 12th grade, struggling miserably with academics, and had just been a little too honest with my mother. What followed was a storm of scolding. It was obvious—I had completely lost focus on science. My report cards showed barely passing marks, hovering just above the threshold in every subject except English. The solution my mother proposed was simple: join a local tuition center. But I detested some of the people in that area, and in a fit of irritation, I ranted about the very tutor my mom was considering. I blurted out everything I knew about him—his rumored affairs, his chain-smoking habit, and other gossip I had picked up along the way. Bewildered and furious, my mother’s reaction was swift—a slap that caught me by surprise. “Only if you knew your physics formulas and chemistry exceptions with the same interest,” she seethed, “your results might have been better.” My head hung low in guilt and shame. Her words cut deep...