Aarushi sat in the library, her books scattered across the table in a disorganized fashion, her laptop open in front of her. AirPods plugged in, she was deeply engrossed in a video lecture on pathology, pausing and rewinding frequently as she scribbled notes in her journal. Her forehead creased with frustration as she tried to grasp the complex concepts. The tension in her demeanor was palpable, a clear reflection of the mounting pressure of her second-year MBBS exams. The intricate diagrams of cell injury and necrosis on her screen only added to her stress, making her sigh every few minutes.

Getting frustrated, she shut her laptop with a sharp thud, the sound echoing across the otherwise silent library. Frustration overwhelmed her as she pushed her books aside, burying her face in her folded arms on the desk. The weight of the looming exams, the tangled concepts she couldn’t grasp, and the suffocating expectations pressed down on her chest like a boulder. Her throat tightened, and tears prickled at the corners of her eyes. She wanted to cry—to let it all out—but the walls of the library seemed to mock her vulnerability.