In the wee small hours of Wednesday morning, before the cock could sing its cock-a-doodle-doo, the alarm went offin a harsh crescendo, and Kushal Sharma, for the umpteenth time, forced himself awake. Hammering the clock shut with his hand, he sat on the edge of his bed, his drooping eyelids battlingbravely against the dreamy waves of sleep; the temptingbed and pillow seemed to be inviting him back into their cosiness. “C’mon, Kushal…today’s the last,” he mumbled to himselfas he stood, stretched and yawned widely, cracking his knuckles.“After that, I’ll doze off like Kumbhkarana!” Reaching out for his rimless glasses on the stool beside his bed, he put them on, walked over to the window, and gazed out up at the greyish, predawn May sky; a surreal sight: Few stars dimlydotting the skyalong with the fading moon, and far in the eastern horizon, a tinge of red could be seen. Stepping…