The notice board in Dombivli Arts & Commerce College had a permanent crowd. Job listings. Festival announcements. Failed students checking re-exam dates.
Today the crowd was different. They weren't groaning. They were pointing. Whispering. Taking photos.
Because right at the top, under a crooked laminated sheet that said _SEMESTER 1 RESULTS - - 2026 BATCH_, there was a name printed in ink darker than the rest.
_Rank 1: ISHA SHARMA – 582/600 – 97.00%_
Isha stared at it for ten whole seconds. Then she stared at the sky. Then she stared at her own hands, like they belonged to someone else. Someone smart. Someone who wins.
"Holy crap," a voice said next to her. "You beat Ashok."
Ashok Nair. The guy who tutored half the class for money. The guy who slept with a calculator under his pillow. The guy who hadn't lost Rank 1 since 11th standard.
He was standing two feet away, looking at the board like it had personally betrayed him. He looked at Isha. Then at the board. Then at Isha again.
"Did you cheat?" he asked. Not angry. Genuinely confused.
Isha laughed. Out loud. For the first time in weeks. The sound startled her more than the result. "I wish. Cheating is easier than what I did."
"What did you do?"
She thought of hospital waiting rooms with textbooks balanced on her lap. Of solving accounts problems while her IV dripped. Of Vikram sitting three feet away, holding her notebook when her left arm was in a sling, turning pages for her. Of Sunita putting ghee in her dal at 2 AM and saying "Topper banna hai to dimaag ko ghee chahiye".
Of Rahul's voice from the doorway a week ago: "You don't have to come to work. Exams come first."
Of her own voice, whispering at 4 AM: _If I can escape kidnappers, I can escape failure._
"I studied," she told Ashok. Simple. True. "Like my life depended on it. Because for a while, it did."
Ashok blinked. Then he did something she didn't expect. He stuck his hand out. "Congrats, Sharma. You earned it."
She shook it. His palm was sweaty. Hers was too.
Then the flood started.
"ISHA! TOPPER!" Shreya from 11th A crashed into her with a hug that nearly dislocated her good shoulder. "I KNEW IT! I told everyone you were gonna be first!"
"You told everyone I was gonna fail," Isha wheezed, but she was smiling.
"Same thing! Reverse psychology!"
Professor Desai pushed through the crowd. She was sixty, five feet tall, and ran Accounts like a military drill. She never smiled. She smiled now. Teeth and all.
"Sharma," she said. "My cabin. Now. And bring that brain of yours."
The cabin smelled like old books and stronger coffee. Professor Desai closed the door and pointed at the chair.
"Sit. Before you fall. Students faint when they see their name on top. I've seen it. Nasty business."
Isha sat. Her legs were actually shaking.
Professor Desai pulled out a file. "582 out of 600. 97%. Highest in Dombivli College in four years. You got 99 in Business Law, 98 in Financial Accounting, 95 in Economics. You even got 92 in English. And your attendance was 43%."
Isha winced. "Hospital. And… kidnapping. Long story."
"I know the story," Professor Desai said. "Your mother submitted medical certificates. And Vikram Malhotra called me personally to explain the 'security situation'. I didn't believe him until I saw the news."
Isha's head snapped up. "Vikram called you?"
"He said, and I quote, 'She'll sit for the exam if I have to carry her to the seat. Don't fail her for attendance.'" Professor Desai's lips twitched. "I don't take orders from bodyguards. But I checked your internals. You topped all three unit tests. So I let you sit."
Isha's throat closed. She hadn't known. She'd just shown up on exam day, arm in a sling, and Professor Desai had handed her the paper without a word.
"Thank you," Isha whispered.
"Don't thank me. Thank yourself. And thank whoever taught you to write a law answer like that." She pushed a paper across the desk. Isha's Business Law answer sheet. At the top, in red: _29/30. Best I've read in 10 years._
"Who helped you?"
"No one," Isha said. Then she remembered. "I… I read case studies. Online. At night. When I couldn't sleep."
"At night in a hospital or at night in a mansion?" Professor Desai asked. Sharp. Not rude. Curious.
Isha didn't answer. She didn't have to.
Professor Desai leaned back. "Listen, Sharma. You're smart. Smarter than this college. Mumbai University has a scholarship. Top 0.1% in Sem 1 across all colleges. Full fees waived for three years. Plus stipend. You qualify."
Isha's mouth went dry. "Full fees? Stipend? How much?"
"8,000 rupees per month. For 36 months. Provided you stay in top 5 ranks every semester."
8,000. Per month. For three years. That was 2,88,000 rupees. That was Sunita not doing double shifts. That was rent paid on time. That was… freedom.
"Forms are in the office. Fill them today. I'll sign recommendation." Professor Desai stood. Meeting over. "And Sharma? One more thing."
"Yes ma'am?"
"Whatever mess you're in with the Malhotras—finish your degree. Men give you contracts. Degrees give you choices. Remember that."
Isha stood too. Her legs weren't shaking anymore. "Yes, ma'am."
Outside, the crowd had doubled.
was a small course. 120 students. 119 of them were now looking at her. Some smiling. Some jealous. Some calculating if they could copy her notes next sem.
Her phone buzzed. Unknown number.
_Aditya Pratap Singh: I saw the result on the college website. First rank. I'm proud. I don't have the right to be, but I am. — A
She stared at it. Then typed back before she could think:
Isha: Thanks. Sunita says toppers eat poha. You still learning?
Three dots. Then:
Aditya Pratap Singh: I ate it this morning. With onions. Was that correct?
She snorted. Typed: With onions is advanced level. You pass.
She put the phone down. Her father was learning poha. Her professor was signing scholarships. Ashok Nair had shaken her hand.
Her phone buzzed again. Rahul.
Rahul: Board photo is all over my office WhatsApp. My contract girlfriend is a topper. My stock went up 2%. Come to office. We're celebrating.
Then Vikram. No words. Just a photo. The notice board. Her name circled in blue pen.
She typed back to Vikram: You told Professor Desai?
Vikram: You needed to sit for exam. Attendance rule is stupid. I fixed stupid.
_Isha: Thank you.
Vikram: 97% is 3% stupid. Where did you lose 18 marks?
She laughed again. Out loud. In the corridor. People stared. She didn't care.
Shreya grabbed her arm. "Party! Canteen! My treat! You're buying next sem though!"
The canteen gave her a free samosa. "Topper discount," the bhaiya said, grinning. "Bhabhi ki taraf se."
"Whose bhabhi?"
"Your bhabhi. Whole college knows you're Malhotra sir's girlfriend. News mein tha."
Isha opened her mouth. Closed it. Ate the samosa instead. It tasted like victory. Like ghee and potato and I did it.
Sunita video-called at 1 PM. Her face filled the screen, kitchen behind her.
"Ma, I'm first!" Isha yelled before Sunita could speak.
"I know," Sunita said. She wasn't smiling. She was crying. Fat, happy tears. "Professor called me. She said 'Your daughter is first. Come sign scholarship paper.' I'm wearing my good saree."
"Ma, don't cry"
"I'll cry if I want. 17 years I told people 'My daughter will be officer'. Today they'll believe me." She wiped her eyes with her pallu. "Your father is outside. He brought ladoo. I didn't let him in. But I took ladoo. For you."
Isha choked. "You took it?"
"Ladoo is ladoo. Pride is pride. I can keep both."
That was Sunita. Practical. Undefeated.
"Ma, I got 97%."
"You got 100% in my book. Rest 3% is for improvement. Next sem, 100%. Then we'll talk."
The call ended. Isha looked at the samosa. At the board photo in her gallery. At the 47 messages in her WhatsApp.
Six months ago, she was a girl who got kidnapped. Today, she was a girl who got Rank 1.
She didn't know which was harder. She knew which felt better.
She typed one message. Group name: People Who Matter. Members: Sunita, Vikram. She'd add Rahul later. Maybe.
Isha: Sem 1: Cleared. Sem 2: Loading. Anyone who bets against me, give me your money now. I need books.
Vikram replied first: Books ordered. Arriving 7 PM. Three feet from your desk.
Sunita: Poha tonight. With extra onion. For my topper.
Isha put the phone down and looked at the notice board one last time.
Rank 1: ISHA SHARMA
She wasn't Malhotra's girlfriend. She wasn't Singh's daughter. She wasn't a victim or a contract or a scandal.
She was Rank 1.
And for the first time, that was enough.
Author's Note :-
> TOPPER ISHA IS HERE👑📚🥳 *97% BABY!
> I wrote this chapter with tears. Because every girl who studies while the world falls apart deserves a Rank 1 moment. Isha got hers today💗
> Professor Desai is my favorite now. "Men give contracts. Degrees give choices." FRAME IT ✍️
> Quick questions for you:-
> 1. What was YOUR highest percentage in school/college? Be honest 👇
> 2. Team Dad for sending ladoo or Team Sunita for taking ladoo but not letting him in?😂
> 3. Should Isha take the scholarship or Rahul's money? Choices, choices...
> 3.46K views + 97% = Isha is unstoppable. If we hit 50 comments, next chapter: "Vikram teaches Isha accounting and it's NOT boring I promise" 📊💪
> P.S. No marriage proposals yet. Just mark sheets. Relax 😂
> P.P.S. Poha with onion = advanced level. Aditya is learning. Character growth 🧅✨
> See you at 9PM. Bring calculator. It's about to get romantic 😉⏰
Thank you for reading my page 💗