“I don’t think I deserve this,” I said out loud as I stepped into the dim hostel corridor.
I had just been called to our sports teacher’s quarters. My legs were moving, but my mind was still confused.
Three months ago, I was in a different school, in a different town. I had come here to study commerce—after my 10th. I thought it would be fun. I thought I would get peace.
But instead, I got rules and strict routines.
Hostel life felt more like a jail than a home.
Seven roll calls a day.
As if we were prisoners, not students.
That evening, after the last prayer and 5th counting, I had just fallen asleep when someone started shaking me gently.
“Anand… wake up,” a voice said softly.
It was one of my friend. He looked serious.
“Come with me,” he said.
“Where?”
“To the sports teacher’s quarters.”
I didn’t ask more. I wore my slippers and followed him. The corridor was lit by moonlight. We walked just 25 steps, but my mind was full of questions.
“Why are we going?” I asked.
He replied quickly, “Tomorrow is the badge ceremony. You’ve been selected as the CCA Captain.”
I stopped.
“What? No… I don’t think I deserve this.”
He just smiled and kept walking.
The Meeting Room
Inside the room, three people were waiting—the new Sports Captain, the old School Captain (our senior), and our PE teacher.
They were sitting like it was some secret meeting. We talked about the ceremony—who will speak, what to wear, how to salute.
It felt like we were preparing for a parade.
I barely spoke during the meeting.
The News Spreads
By dinner, the news had already spread. Many boys came and congratulated me. I smiled politely, still not believing it.
Later, I asked the new school captain, “Why me? I’ve only been here three months.”
He said,
“All the seniors voted for you. Not the teachers. In our school, Class 12 decides. Teachers just accept it.”
It was true. Class 12 ruled everything in our school. Their vote mattered the most.
That Night in the Hostel
After dinner, I washed my steel tray—the same one we used every day for rice, dal, and some watery curry—and went back to my room.
I lay on my bed and stared at the ceiling fan. My mind kept asking:
Do I really deserve this?
Then I remembered—I had to iron my dress putting it under my mattress and write a speech for tomorrow.
So I got up, prepared everything, and wrote a few lines on a piece of paper.
The Final Roll Call
That night, our housemaster came for final roll call. He smiled and said congratulations. The sports teacher was also there.
I asked them, “Why did you choose me?”
Before the PE teacher could answer, the housemaster said,
“Because you’re the right person. You’re active. You’ve given two great speeches—on Sports Day and Teacher’s Day. You’re well-mannered, speak well, dress properly… and most importantly, the school respects you.”
I nodded slowly.
What We Deserve
That night, I didn’t sleep with doubt. I slept with a new thought.
We don’t always get what we want.
We don’t always get what we ask for.
We get what we deserve.
Not more. Not less.
Think of a normal middle-class man who wins one crore on KBC.
People say he’s lucky. But he applied, waited, answered every question correctly, and handled pressure on national TV.
He deserved it.
Even if you think you deserve a better job, a better life, more success—maybe you don’t.
Because if you really did, you’d already have it.
There might be something missing:
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A skill
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A confidence
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The courage to ask for more
Maybe you give value worth ₹1000, but you earn only ₹100.
That means you only deserve ₹100 right now.
Why?
Because maybe you don’t know how to ask for more… or handle bigger responsibilities.
Deserving something is not a reward. It’s a mirror.
And sometimes, mirrors show things we don’t want to see.
The Last Whisper
That night, lying on my hostel bed—thin mattress, broken fan, walls that smelled of old paint—
I whispered something different to myself:
“I don’t think I deserved this… but maybe I do.”
And that changed everything.