Let’s admit it, DILR can feel like that puzzle piece that never fits. You solve one set and think like Sherlock Holmes, then crash on the next and wonder if you’ve learned anything at all. But here’s the deal: DILR isn’t about brilliance. It’s about pattern recognition, patience, and, most importantly, revision.

I learned this the hard way. My DILR performance would swing wildly—from 98 percentile to 45, depending on the day. Until I changed how I revised. And that changed everything.

Revisit Sets Like Old Friends

You don’t ignore people who’ve helped you once, right? The same goes for DILR sets. If a set made you sweat and taught you something new, it deserves a second visit.

I started keeping a “Hall of Fame” folder. Every set that felt tricky-but-learnable went into it. And once a week, I’d revisit those sets—not to re-solve them from scratch, but to walk through my previous solution, spot shortcuts, and reflect on what made it tough. Not the kind where you re-read your old notes and call it a day. We’re talking about deliberate, structured revision that builds muscle memory. You need to remember how you solved something similar before.

Over time, this gave me a sixth sense. I’d glance at a new set and go, “Ah, this is just like that tournament ranking one I did in July, except a bit twisted.” That kind of recognition? It saves you minutes on the test day. 

Create a DILR Journal—Yes, Like a Detective

Sounds nerdy, I know. But hear me out. After every mock, I’d write down a few quick lines for each DILR set: what the structure was (tables, Venn, arrangements), what tripped me up, what worked, and what I should’ve done differently.

It’s like creating your playbook. And the magic isn’t just in writing, it’s in rereading it before mocks. It’s like carrying a cheat sheet made by your past self.

Don’t Just Practice. Curate Practice.

We all love solving new sets. Feels productive, right? But throwing random sets at yourself isn’t a strategy; it’s chaos. After a point, you don’t need more sets. You need to master the ones you’ve already met.

I made a habit of tagging every set I solved: Easy, Medium, Hard, and Bloody Murder. Then, I’d mix and match for revision. Two mediums and one hard for breakfast, so to speak. It gave my brain variety while strengthening familiar concepts.

Also, track your timing. If a puzzle took you 20 minutes the first time, try trimming it to 12 the second time. That’s progress.

Mock Analysis > Mock Marks

It took me a while to accept this: the marks don’t matter. The learnings do.

After each mock, I’d go back to every unsolved or incorrectly solved DILR set. Not just to find the answer, but to ask why I missed it. Did I panic? Misread a condition? Choose the wrong starting point?

Every mistake became a teacher. Every mock became a gold mine of insights if I was willing to dig.

DILR isn't a sprint. It’s a strategy game. 

Like chess, the more you replay old games, the better your new moves get.

So, stop solving randomly. Start solving smartly. Revisit, reflect, and record. Build your personal DILR bank—not of questions, but of experiences.

Because when you sit for the real CAT and a wild puzzle appears, your brain will go, “We’ve been here before. Let’s do this.”

And trust me, in that exam hall you will.