Embracing the Chaos of Exam Day Mornings: A Journey from Sleep to Survival

Today began at 4:05 a.m.

Or maybe it began five minutes earlier, when the alarm had already been crying out for attention and finally succeeded in pulling me from sleep. Exam day. Their exam day. And somehow, mine too.

BLE Examinations 2026

I moved through the morning the way students do-half awake, half anxious...washing my face, steadying my breath, checking my bag again and then once more. Pencils. Pens. Admit cards. Everything had to be perfect, because today mattered.

By the time the clock showed five, the sky was still quiet. The bus driver dai had told us to reach school by 5:45, but I arrived at 5:30, fifteen minutes early, standing there waiting—just like them. One familiar face appeared from afar, smiling. I asked if he was nervous.

“No,” he said easily.

When he asked me the same, I laughed and replied, “Oh no, not at all,” while my feet kept tapping the ground, betraying me completely.

We boarded the bus and began our journey to the PRE BEE centre, stopping along the way to pick up more familiar faces. Inside the bus, every emotion had a seat. Some students were reading, eyes fixed on their notes. Some sat with their eyes closed—maybe revising, maybe praying. Others simply looked out the window, letting the morning carry them forward. I watched them all, my heart full, wondering how time had slipped past us so quickly. Whenever our eyes met, we exchanged small smiles—the quiet kind that say we’ve come this far. Somewhere inside, all of us whispered, We got this.

We reached the center right on time. I stepped off the bus first, nervous and proud all at once. I went from student to student, offering fist bumps and soft “Best of lucks,” hoping my confidence could lend them a little strength. The school ground was crowded with unfamiliar faces. Another principal made announcements over the loudspeaker, his voice echoing across the morning air. I opened my bag again—extra pencils, extra pens—placing them into waiting hands, handing out admit cards like precious promises.

Then they went inside, one by one, disappearing into their classrooms.

That’s when I finally stopped.

“Aanchal Miss,” a voice called.

One student stepped out, took my hand tightly, his fingers wrapped around mine as if I were the one who needed reassurance. Without a word, he led me to his classroom door, then gently let go. He waved, smiled wide, and walked to his seat.

I stayed outside.

Sitting there, I felt a hundred emotions all at once. Being their homeroom teacher for a year had been the most beautiful part of this journey. It felt like I had spent a whole year growing with these people. Like I needed them as much as they needed me. Like sometimes, everything becomes okay when someone simply holds your hand and smiles. I learned again how easy it is to love, just love, and trust that everything will be okay. Sometimes, all it takes is someone to hold your hand for a moment… and smile.

Aanchal Dutt Chaulagain

English Teacher