Mumbai. The city pulsed, a relentless rhythm. To master the IAS here, you needed a different kind of resolve. Chanakya Mandal Pariwar. No illusions. They gave you the UPSC test series. Not a pat on the back, but a cold assessment. The gaps in your knowledge, laid bare. Civil service classes. The room was bare, the desks hard. No soft words. Only the work. The UPSC coaching classes. The grind. Up early, late nights. No shortcuts. The UPSC course. A straight line. No detours, no distractions. Civil service class. Truth spoken plain. No room for sentiment. UPSC coaching class. One target. The bullseye. The city tested you. The academy tested you harder. They showed you the weaknesses, then showed you how to fix them. You came to learn. You learned. You came to fight. You fought. The city was a battle. The academy, your training ground. They gave you the tools. They showed you how to use them. Then they pushed you into the fire. You emerged stronger. Or you did not emerge. That was the only truth.