The evening after the UPSC 2024 results were announced, the air at Shakti Dubey‘s house was a mixture of anticipation and caffeine-induced anxiety. Every family member had gathered around the dining table, clutching their smartphones like they were about to solve the riddle of the Sphinx. The TV was on, but nobody was paying attention to the news. Instead, there were constant refreshes, swiping through scorecards, and prayer beads being twirled nervously. The atmosphere felt more like a high-stakes game of Monopoly than a simple moment of reckoning for Shakti’s future.
Harshita Goyal, on the other hand, had a more subdued family setup—her parents were sipping their morning chai, fully trusting that her relentless effort would yield a deserving result. Her younger brother was feverishly studying his math textbook, pretending he wasn’t too bothered by the impending results, but his white-knuckled grip on his pen said otherwise. The juxtaposition of a calm exterior and an anxiety-ridden interior could only be described as the “Goyal family charm.”
When the results were out, both Shakti Dubey and Harshita Goyal were silent for a moment, partly from shock, partly from trying to figure out whether they had misread their ranks in the first five seconds. Shakti, with her usual blend of sarcasm and self-doubt, muttered, “Well, guess I’m not joining the United Nations anytime soon.” Harshita, on the other hand, was already running through a mental checklist of what to do if she didn’t make it. Both of them were well aware that the journey they had been on had less to do with ‘hopes and dreams’ and more to do with caffeine addiction, obscure facts about river basins, and pretending to enjoy the latest reports on Indian politics.
UPSC Prelims 2024 — Hope, Hype, and Highly Uncertain Cut-offs
Let’s rewind a few months. Shakti and Harshita, both battle-hardened from their previous attempts and armed with enough mock test booklets to fill a small library, were deep in the throes of their Prelims preparation. Mornings started at 5 AM—just after a half-drunken cup of coffee, mind you. By 5:30 AM, both were engaged in their daily ritual of deciphering the kind of questions that made you wonder whether you’d accidentally enrolled in an alternative version of the exam. “Who would think of asking about the biodiversity of Bhutan’s southern border during Prelims?” Shakti once muttered, throwing her book across the room in dramatic frustration. “Bhutan’s southern border is its secret weapon, apparently,” Harshita would joke back, though deep down, they both wondered if they’d forgotten to check that particular border’s endangered species list.
The Prelims, of course, were a masterclass in panic. You could prepare for weeks and still be utterly surprised by the cut-off. There were days when Shakti would declare, “If I see another question on the Indian Economy, I might just start studying Greek philosophy.” Harshita’s coping mechanism involved repeated practice tests, combined with an occasional mutter of “I can’t believe this is happening,” right before diving back into another round of sectional analysis.
UPSC CSE Mains 2024 — Where Self-Doubt Becomes a Personality Trait
As soon as the Prelims were out of the way, the Mains loomed like a shadow, promising an even more absurd level of intensity. There was no such thing as “weekend plans” anymore; every day was about essay writing, answer writing, and rewriting. “At this point,” Shakti said, staring into her coffee cup one afternoon, “I feel like I’ve written more essays than a 19th-century Victorian novelist. I should get a medal for sheer literary endurance.”
Harshita, too, had her share of crises. The Mains weren’t about knowledge; they were about endurance, stamina, and the ability to appear well-versed on topics you hadn’t thought about since high school. “I’m pretty sure I just wrote 2000 words on the significance of 19th-century Indian literature,” Harshita remarked one evening, after an exhaustive session that included a solid half-hour of staring at her paper in disbelief. “When did I become a literary critic?”
The real kicker, however, was the creeping self-doubt. While they had both been working tirelessly, neither of them had quite shaken off the nagging feeling that maybe they were going about it all wrong. “I just don’t think I can answer this question on ‘social issues in contemporary India’ without somehow insulting half of the country,” Shakti once confessed, staring blankly at the blank page. “Maybe I should’ve just answered ‘it’s complicated’ and left it at that.”
But in the midst of this mental chaos, there were moments of humor. During one practice test, Harshita’s answer to a tough question on international relations was punctuated with the words “No one knows what’s going on, but I’m doing my best.” Shakti, not to be outdone, titled her entire essay “Life is a Political Quagmire, So Is UPSC.”
UPSC Interview 2024 — A Battle of Wits, Words, and Weak Smiles
Finally, the big one—the UPSC interview. The most intense round of all, where every word you say is dissected like a criminal confession. Harshita had a classic moment when asked about her opinion on a contemporary social issue and froze for a solid five seconds before saying, “Uh, well… there are always two sides to every coin. Except when it’s a three-sided coin.” The panel was too stunned to react, but Harshita later described it as the longest five seconds of her life.
Shakti, never one to be outdone, was quizzed on her views about national security, a topic she had only vaguely researched. “I believe in national security,” she said confidently, “but what does it really mean? Maybe it’s like the WiFi password—you just hope it works when you need it most.” The panel, at least, had the decency to not ask her to elaborate.
UPSC CSE Result 2024— AIR Achieved, Peace Not Guaranteed
When the final results were announced, it was like the culmination of an epic saga—except no one had prepared for the sheer emotional rollercoaster that followed. “I did it! I did it!” Shakti screamed, to the absolute horror of her mother, who was in the middle of an important phone call with a distant relative. Harshita’s family responded with a slightly more restrained “Well, you were always going to make it,” which somehow felt less like praise and more like a quiet judgment of her tardy attempts to clean the house over the past few months.
There were celebrations, of course—cakes, laughter, and a few very awkward selfies with distant cousins who had “just stopped by.” In the midst of all this, Shakti couldn’t help but reflect on the absurdity of it all: “After all that stress, what did I really learn? That life is too short to care about river basins and more about whether you can beat the cut-off.”
Aftermath: Bureaucracy Begins, Sleep Doesn’t
Then, the bureaucratic reality kicked in. The induction process into services wasn’t so much a beginning as it was an extension of the already existing caffeine dependence and sleep deprivation. “I haven’t slept for days,” Harshita lamented on one occasion. “The training schedule is an Olympic sport—except instead of medals, you get deadlines.” Shakti, ever the realist, nodded knowingly. “The irony is that I had more time for existential dread before I joined. Now I just fear the next meeting.”
And so, their lives shifted from exams to training programs, from self-doubt to institutionalized stress. The transformation was complete.
Final Reflections — A Topper’s Wisdom
In the end, Shakti and Harshita had their own pearls of wisdom to share, mostly couched in sarcasm and genuine advice. “Don’t think of UPSC as a race,” Shakti said sagely, “think of it as a never-ending obstacle course. And don’t forget to hydrate.” Harshita, on the other hand, was more succinct: “Sleep is overrated. But coffee? Never.”
Both had faced the ordeal and come out on top, with a sense of humor as their only weapon against the madness. For future aspirants, their advice was clear: “Keep going. Even if you think you’ve forgotten everything, you probably haven’t.”
The Peak View would like to remind everyone—especially UPSC aspirants—that the road is long, but the laughs along the way are worth the struggle.
The journey doesn’t end here. Stay tuned for more stories from The Peak View Stories, where the highs are high, the lows are lower, and the only thing more uncertain than the cut-offs is our ability to make it through another coffee-fueled deadline. Keep your pens sharp, your mock tests sharper, and your sense of humor sharpest.
Disclaimer: The events, characters, and coffee consumption depicted in this article are based on the exaggerated, caffeine-fueled experiences of UPSC toppers and their families. While the story does reflect the rollercoaster of emotions and sleepless nights that accompany UPSC preparation, no mock tests, study schedules, or precarious moments of self-doubt were harmed in the making of this article. Any resemblance to real UPSC aspirants is purely intentional—after all, if you didn’t feel like a philosophical expert at some point, were you really preparing?