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Trigger warning: mentions of violence She was 17. A NEET aspirant from Maharashtra. One bad score in a mock test, and her life was cut  short. Allegedly beaten to death by her father, a school principal.

What if, instead of silence or anger, she had heard: “It’s okay. One bad test doesn’t make you a failure.” And hadn’t been punished for a number on a sheet?

What if someone had looked at her and said: “We see how much you care. That’s what really matters.” Instead of focusing only on how she scored?

What if she had been reminded: “Falling is part of trying. We’ve got you.” And hadn’t been left alone with fear?

What if she had known, deep down: “You were never just your rank. You were already enough.” And hadn’t been taught to tie her worth to a result?

What if home had felt like this: “Even if you mess up — you’re safe here. You’re loved here.” And not like something she had to fear?

What if someone had said, out loud: “There’s more than one way to succeed. We’ll help you find yours.” And she hadn’t felt like she had no choice?

What if every child grew up hearing: “We believe in your dreams. But we believe in you even more.” And actually felt it?

A score should never decide whether a child feels safe, loved, or seen. Say the words they need, while they can still hear them.