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VAIDEHI
I woke up to the shrill sound of my alarm blaring right beside my ear, making me groan louder than I probably should have. The morning sun had already decided to betray me, sending its relentless rays straight onto my face. I squinted and flopped back onto my pillow in a dramatic display of defiance. Ugh, mornings. Why do they even exist? I mean, I'm a night owl, not a morning bird. Nighttime is when I feel like my brain actually functions, when thoughts flow freely, when the world doesn't demand that I be socially acceptable. But no, here I was, dragged into the harsh, unforgiving reality of 9 AM.
Hey, it's me Vaidehi Bhansal. A third-year MBBS student, and currently questioning every single life choice that brought me to this point. I know, I know... medicine is "prestigious," "rewarding," and apparently, it guarantees respect. But sometimes, in the quiet of the night-or rather, the early chaos of the morning-I wonder if all those lectures, endless notes, and practically living inside a library were really worth it. And today, as I stared at the glaring sunlight slicing through my window, that thought hit harder than my alarm ever could.
Oh God. It's 9 AM. Class starts at 10. And I still haven't even begun to fully wake up. Panic surged through me in full force, my brain screaming, Move! Move! Move!
I shot out of bed like a cannonball and made a beeline for the bathroom. The shower was an oasis. Hot water crashed over me, washing away, I hoped, some of my anxiety. I could feel my thoughts gradually slow down as I scrubbed away the last remnants of sleep, though my mind was already racing through the day's schedule-lectures, labs, tutorials, the eternal nightmare of practicals.
Once I was semi-human again, I went for the minimalistic "no-makeup" makeup look. Honestly, it's basically a fancy term for "I woke up looking fabulous without really trying." A dab of concealer here, a little kajal there, a swipe of lip balm-voilà. I dressed in a pink kurti with a chudidaar salwar and threw on my crisp white coat. God, how much this white coat cost me... not just in rupees, but in the years of my life it represents. The symbol of being a "doctor" feels heavy, both physically and mentally.
I paused for a quiet moment in front of the mirror. It was a brief but necessary ego boost-admiring myself, even if only for thirty seconds, because hey, a girl has to celebrate the small victories. I grabbed the keys to my apartment, locked the door, and exhaled. The next battlefield awaited: the streets of Kolkata.
Stepping out, I was immediately hit by the chaotic symphony of honking horns, rickshaw bells, shouting vendors, and the ever-present smell of fried street food mingled with exhaust fumes. The streets were messy, hectic, and somehow beautiful in their own chaotic way. I spotted an auto-rickshaw parked by the roadside and jumped in.
"Doctor ho?" the auto uncle asked, giving me a grin that made me simultaneously blush and swell with pride.
"Nahi uncle," I replied, trying to sound casual, "abhi padhai kar rahi hoon. Kuch 1 saal baad ban jaungi."
"Acha," he said, nodding as if I'd just declared something monumental. A few more exchanges later, we were off, weaving through traffic at a pace that made my stomach do tiny flips. Thirty minutes later, I finally arrived at the college gates.
The campus was already buzzing with students. Some were glued to their phones, scrolling endlessly as if social media held the secrets to life itself. Others rushed to their classes, clutching notebooks, lab coats flapping in the wind like superhero capes. I sighed and joined the flow, my white coat flapping behind me, a silent proclamation of my chosen-or maybe cursed-profession.
I walked into the campus and immediately spotted my two best friends calling out to me from across the corridor. Well... calling them "best friends" feels like an understatement. They aren't just friends-they're my family, my anchors in this chaotic life. We've been inseparable since 11th grade, and since then, it feels like we've been stitched together in some unbreakable bond. Honestly, I don't know how I survived my high school years without them, and I don't even want to imagine a life without their constant nagging, teasing, and, occasionally, genuine care.
As I made my way toward them, my mind drifted for a moment, like it always does when I let myself think. My past... wow. A complete, utter mess. Mistakes, heartbreaks, moments of sheer stupidity that make me cringe just thinking about them. And yet, my present feels so unexpectedly good. Life has a funny way of balancing itself, I guess. If I could go back and fix one thing, delete that one mistake that keeps poking at my conscience, I would. I know some things are irreversible, but sometimes, I fantasize about stepping back in time and erasing that single misstep. Just one. That's all.
I was lost in my thoughts, staring at the ground, when Meera's voice snapped me back to reality.
"Hey! Chal Vaidehi, lecture ke liye late ho rahein hain!"
I blinked and laughed softly, shaking off the fog of memories. Right, present moment, I reminded myself, quickening my pace to catch up with them. They had that same mix of panic and mischief on their faces, like every other morning. It was contagious, of course, and suddenly, the weight of my thoughts felt lighter.
We weaved through the bustling corridors together, dodging students, bags, and the occasional broom-wielding janitor. The familiar chaos of the college felt comforting now, not suffocating. There's something reassuring about stepping into a place where everyone is chasing their own chaos-it makes your own feel just a little bit smaller.
When we reached the classroom, I found a seat near the window. Sunlight streamed through, warm and golden, and I tried to ignore the tiny butterflies of guilt for always getting distracted. Meera and Kanika-sat across from me, whispering hurriedly about notes, assignments, and some random gossip about seniors. I smiled inwardly. I'd never admit it aloud, but those little exchanges made the long, exhausting lectures a little more bearable.
The lecture began, the professor's monotone voice filling the room, and I forced myself to focus. Not fully, of course-my brain has a talent for wandering-but enough to distract myself from the thoughts that had been clinging stubbornly to my mind. I doodled absentmindedly on the margins of my notebook, jotted down important points, and occasionally glanced at my friends, silently thanking them for grounding me.
Sometimes I wonder what life would be like without them. Would I have crumbled under the pressure of MBBS? Would I have given up in the face of endless exams, late-night studies, and the endless self-doubt? Most likely. And that thought made me squeeze my pen a little tighter, determined to make the most of this chapter of life-even if it meant surviving early mornings, endless lectures, and the chaos of college corridors.
As the lecture dragged on, my mind flickered between moments of clarity and daydreams about the future. I promised myself that one day, I'd fix my past mistakes, embrace my present fully, and-maybe-finally learn to stop overthinking every little thing. But for now, I had this moment, this lecture, this bubble of time with my friends beside me. And that was enough.
When the professor finally wrapped up, I felt a tiny rush of relief, mixed with the inevitable dread of upcoming practicals and assignments. But I smiled anyway. Life might be messy, unpredictable, and sometimes painfully overwhelming-but with Meera and kanika by my side, I felt ready to face it. For now, that was enough.
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By the time the lecture ended, my stomach was already staging a protest. The hunger pangs were so real that even the thought of the canteen's questionable samosas made my mouth water. So when the lunch break was finally announced, I practically sprinted toward the cafeteria with Meera and Kanika trailing behind. We grabbed our usual corner table, and I was just about to unwrap my tiffin when my phone buzzed with a notification.
It was a message from Maa.
Maa: Ansh is getting married!
I froze, my spoon halfway to my mouth. For a moment, I honestly thought I was hallucinating. I blinked twice, then read it again. Then again. And then a fourth time just to be absolutely sure I wasn't misreading the most unexpected piece of news of the century.
"Oh. My. God."
The words slipped out louder than I intended, and both Meera and Kanika immediately looked up.
"What happened?!" Meera asked, eyes widening.
"Maa just texted me..." I whispered dramatically, placing my hand on my chest like some Bollywood heroine about to faint. "Ansh bhaiya is getting married."
Their jaws dropped in unison.
"What?? The same Ansh bhaiya who swore up and down that marriage was a scam?" Kanika asked, incredulous.
"Yes! The same one who gave us five-hour-long TED talks on why he's never tying the knot! The same one who said, and I quote, 'Marriage is basically signing up for lifelong torture with extra expenses!'" I flailed my hands in disbelief.
I couldn't stop laughing. This man had spent years making his bachelorhood sound like a sacred vow, and now suddenly-bam!-he was getting married.
Without wasting another second, I hit the video call button. Within moments, Maa's smiling face filled the screen, and behind her I could see chaos-relatives bustling about, laughter echoing, and that unmistakable wedding-prep energy.
"Maa!!!" I squealed. "Is this real? Or am I dreaming?"
Maa chuckled, adjusting her dupatta. "It's real, beta. Ansh finally agreed. The rishta has been fixed."
Before I could say anything else, a familiar voice boomed from behind her. "Vaidehi! Guess what? Your bhaiya is finally getting domesticated!"
I burst out laughing. "Bhaiya! You liar! What happened to all your 'I'll never marry, I'll live free and wild' nonsense?"
He grinned sheepishly, scratching his head. "Well... let's just say I finally found someone who makes all that nonsense sound stupid."
My heart melted a little. Wow. So this is what happiness sounded like in someone's voice.
Everyone on the other end of the call started teasing him, and I joined in full force. "Wait till I come home-I'm going to roast you so bad for all those anti-marriage speeches."
"You better come," Maa interrupted firmly. "We need you here. The house feels incomplete without you."
I felt my eyes sting, just a little. That familiar pull of home tugged at my chest, and suddenly, the college canteen around me seemed dull compared to the thought of warm lights, wedding songs, and the chaos of family gathered under one roof.
"I'll come, Maa," I promised, my voice soft but steady. "Of course I will. How could I miss this?"
The call ended with laughter, promises, and me grinning like an idiot in the middle of the canteen. Meera and Kaniks were staring at me, their expressions caught somewhere between disbelief and excitement.
"Pack your bags, Vaidehi," Kanika said, smirking. "Looks like we're going to a wedding!"
And just like that, the exhaustion of the morning, the heaviness of my doubts, everything else melted away. My bhaiya-the man who swore marriage wasn't for him-was finally tying the knot. And I couldn't wait to be part of every moment of it.
.
.
.
.
After college, Meera, Kanika, and I headed straight to my apartment. Well... my apartment is technically not just mine-it's ours. The three of us have been living together since cracking NEET and ahifting to kolkata from our native place, making this small space more than just a house. It's a home, a sanctuary where sarcasm is a second language and teasing is mandatory.
We dumped our college bags on the couch and immediately got to work packing for the wedding. I couldn't stop smiling, still floating from the excitement of Maa's message about Ansh bhaiya. Suitcases sprawled across the living room, clothes were flying around, makeup bags opened like treasure chests, and we were somehow simultaneously organized and chaotic-a perfect reflection of our lives.
Now, I have to confess something. This morning, when I got ready, I did it alone. Without Meera and Kanika teasing me relentlessly for taking forever to do my "minimalist makeup" or commenting on my kurti-salwar combo. Normally, they're up at 8, bustling around like some energy-charged tornado, while I'm still in my cozy blanket fortress, resisting life itself. So waking up late today and rushing through my routine felt... weirdly peaceful. Almost suspiciously quiet.
But being alone also gave me time to reflect. This apartment, these walls, this little cocoon-it's been my life for three years. Since we all got into the same college, after the sleepless nights of NEET preparation, the long commutes, the endless pressure to perform, this space became ours. It's where we laughed until our stomachs hurt during late-night movie marathons every weekend, where we argued over trivial things like who used the last cup of milk, where we shared secrets, dreams, and fears.
I sank into the couch for a moment, looking around. The room was messy, yes, but perfect in its imperfection. The posters on the wall, some doodles on the whiteboard, my books stacked in precarious towers-they were all reminders of this life we've built together. I realized then that this apartment isn't just four walls. It's a living memory of our growth, our struggles, our victories.
Packing clothes, I thought about the rituals and routines that make this place feel like home. The endless teasing, the sarcastic remarks, the playful bickering over snacks-those are the little things that make life lighter, that make the chaos bearable. I don't think I'll ever find a place as comforting as this little shell. And honestly, I have no intention of stepping out of it anytime soon.
Meera tossed a shirt into her suitcase with exaggerated drama. "Vaidehi, are you seriously packing like this? You're going to ruin the folds."
Kanika rolled her eyes. "Ignore her. She's just jealous because your packing is neater than hers."
I laughed, shaking my head, careful not to let my own socks escape into the chaos. "Stop arguing, both of you. Let's just focus before we miss the train."
The three of us fell into our usual rhythm-sarcasm flying, laughter echoing, and moments of silence when we caught ourselves just staring at each other, grateful for the bond we shared. This apartment, this tiny corner of the world, has seen our worst days, our exhausted nights, our happiest victories. And now, as we prepared to step out into the chaos of a wedding, it reminded me of how far we've come.
I smiled to myself, packing the last of my things. Whatever the future holds, whatever mysteries our pasts contain, I knew this place, these people, this home we've built-was mine, ours. And nothing else mattered right now.
{ And about the place from where we actually belong is still a mystery . You'll know it in the next chapter .}
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To be continued.......
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