However long the night, dawn breaks. Every cloud has a silver lining. It is darkest before dawn.
These and many other clichés stay stuck on the four walls of my bedroom, originally meant to motivate me to study, study and study for the exams that were so crucial for the previously career-driven me. With the events of the last week still swimming in my head, all I wanted to do was rip those cute little strips of paper off and scream,"Oh yeah?!" and I would have, if I weren't exhausted from a flight aboard Air India Express followed by a round of verbal dissection by equally tiring relatives.
Life had molded me into an incorrigible pessimist. Who was I to hope for a ray of sunshine while being battered by hailstorms? Every thing pointed only in one direction - down.
To hell with all that, I thought, for if I am to stay exile in India for a year, I'm gonna enjoy every single second I have in the only city I've known in my lifetime to the max. Every second, that is, till the first week of June, when the AIPMT results were scheduled to come out and I was to pack accordingly and leave for PC's version of hell.
So imagine my shock when I'm awakened on the morning of May 24th by my sister's phone call, with a frantic, "Haven't you heard? PMT results are out!" ("Get out! No way... That's 2 weeks premature!")
She let me off with a warning as friends'sisters who were repeaters hadn't made through and she didn't want me shattered by false hopes.
Shaken, I sleepwalk to our desktop, and was about to check out their website when my best friend Ritika's mom calls and confirms that the results are out. She lets me know that she hadn't made it, which further let me down as I was sure if a born-genius like Ritika couldn't make it, I had absolutely no hope.
Nevertheless, just to make sure, I type my roll number, submit and make small talk with Ritika's mom as she too waits over the telephone for my result.
As the page loads, I'm stunned into silence.
"Lamya, are you still there, beta? Got your result?"
"Ah... huh. Um, aunty, yeah. Just came up... Says here I got 1154-"
"Oh. But that's a great rank! I don't know what happened..."
But I wasn't listening anymore. It wasn't happiness I was experiencing. It was relief. Peace. Gratitude. And, survivor's guilt. Ritika and I did everything together - study, fool around, dream. Why the disparity in ranks? Whether or not I was successful in consoling her and motivating her for her next exams, I don't know, but I had a hard enough time convincing myself of the ranks.
Apparently, I wasn't the only one who had to be convinced.
First person I call is Leena, who is shocked to a rare moment of silence when I let her know.
"... are you sure? I mean, repeaters haven't made it... Hey, don't feel bad for my saying, but can you re-check the page? You might have misread something."
Which I had already done. A zillion times. It just wasn't possible. But there it was, my name, my parents'names, my roll no. and most shocking, my rank well within the required merit. This time, I waited a long while before pinching -if this were a dream, I sure didn't want to wake up.
Mom's reaction wasn't as sugar-coated. Sure, it too started with a 'don't feel bad for my saying...' preamble, she went as far as to say that I might have missed a digit in my rank. Dad and my eldest sister Lubna were elated beyond belief and both kept reminding me that though unlikely, they did have faith in me till the end.
Overnight, my world changed. I wasn't worthless anymore, I was phenomenal. I wasn't sure which was harder to deal with - not getting noticed as much as you desire, or being showered 10 times the attention you deserve.
I finally had an answer to everyone's 'What happened?', 'Neither here nor there' and others. Suddenly, not only was I ready to face anyone, I was anticipating meeting everyone - teachers, classmates, relatives, family friends, enemies - to shine in my moment of glory.
I was on the receiving end of mixed reactions - there were the Sirs at MAS who gave me nothing short of celebrity treatment, and my best friends who made it sound like I aced every single exam I'd attempted. There were those who had no idea what AIPMT stood for and just concluded I'd gotten enough dough to buy myself a seat. I tried my best to stay thick-skinned throughout, despite how tempting it was to show off more than what was necessary. I thanked every one of my mentors, who glowed with pride themselves, congratulating me to no end. I was king of the world, no less.
Soon, there were debates on which college to choose. Who would have ever wondered I would be in a state of confusion over that? Mom and Leena were adamant I study only in Kerala while Dad and Lubi considered the advantages of studying outside as well. I was equally stubborn never to study in 'God's own Country', as I felt I'd be totally out of place there. Endless terms and conditions later, they reluctantly let me choose Stanley Medical College in Chennai, which I felt I had a shot at for the second round of counselling.
Within no time, the dates for the first round of counselling and related information was put up on the official website. A hurried packing and scheduling later, Dad and I were aboard another Air India Express flight to Cochin on a seven-days, six-places trip that was going to be physically, mentally and emotionally exhausting.
Hopping from Cochin to my hometown Kodungalloor within hours of landing, barely 24 hours later saw us speeding to Thrissur Railway station, praying that we don't miss our train to Chennai.
We made it alright, without major scratches and bruises and had more than enough time on the 15-hour long journey to cool down. Whatever for, since the weather in Madras was anything but. Blindingly sunny and scorchingly hot, the weather still was no match for our mood. By the end of the day, when we had visited three medical colleges, the counselling centre and the local markets, we just weren't sure which college to choose. This time not because of the multitude of options available to spoil us. It was the alarming rate at which seats in all those colleges I had set my sights upon were vanishing. The night before my counselling session, I found myself crying to sleep, not very different a pattern from the eve of the AIPMT final exam.
The next day saw me in a fix. The only two colleges that fulfilled our conditions were Tirunveli Medical College in Tamil Nadu and Mysore Medical College in Karnataka both 3 hours by road from Leena and Lubna in Trivandrum and Bangalore respectively. Mom and Leena were all for me attending the former, while Dad and Lubi just won't listen to anything but the latter, to which my own heart was leaning, despite there remaining just 4 seats... Finally the hot-tempered ones in the family triumphed as I mentally prepared myself to select MMC&RI, last-minute calls to an intern there notwithstanding.
Striding into the building, I ensured I had all the required documents and sat in front of the notorious TV screen that would announce our selections, rejections and the seats remaining. Meanwhile Dad introduced me to a few of his contacts and their brilliant children whose universal taming of various entrance exams shadowed my single achievement yet again.
Disregarding my incurable low self-esteem, I slowly trace my steps upstairs when my number is called out. I am among the first two candidates that day. I keep talking to the next rank-holder who would be selecting the same college, albeit with no intention of attending it.
What seemed like eons later, I was called up to the table to make my selection.
4 seats still remaining in MMC&RI and I had made up my mind. Things ought to go smooth now. Until...
"Where did you do your XIIth standard?"
A mild expletive ran through my head.
"Um...I'm sorry, what?"
I had heard the question right - they had a little issue with the fact that I hadn't studied in India at all the last 14 years.
"How did you write the AIPMT? Were you even eligible?"
Despite knowing deep down that I was the sole claimant to that seat, I sat on the verge of hyperventilating and going into shock. Seeing my stunned silence, they contact the concerned authorities in Delhi to confirm. I break into silent prayer hoping that all that vanity parade hadn't led to a downfall of sorts.
The magic words zap me back into the present:
"No, that's alright. There are many NRI students in our CBSE schools in the Gulf region..."
I don't wait to hear the rest. I'm mentally back on my knees, thanking God profusely and seeking forgiveness for any negligence shown in expressing my gratitude hitherto.
The man sitting across me at the table apologetically inquires about my schooling and coaching history. When I reveal that I had attended a 2 month long crash course in Kerala, alongwith once-a-week class back in Abu Dhabi, he is beyond impressed that I managed the feat of clearing the exam the first time itself.
All the formalities later, I was on my way back to the hotel, now officially eligible to a seat for MBBS in Mysore Medical College and Research Institute. The same night, we vacated our hotel room and fought for our seats on a bus to Bangalore, where I would be reunited with my sister and her husband. After spending a day there, starting a passionate love affair with the city that was complexed with my vehement refusal to tolerate its people, we set off to Mysore as soon as possible, having secured the eligibility certificate, physical fitness certificate and other requirements by all means necessary.
The road trip was one of the best I've experienced in the country. Beautiful four-laned roads lined by lush greenery, I was really excited about my first glance of the college.
Except, the minute we arrive in Mysore, the college is nowhere to be seen. It was only a few phone calls later that we realized we had already passed by the reputed institution three times without knowing it.
As soon as I saw it, I wish I never had. The first thing I notice is the absence of any unbroken windows. Then I marvel at the architectural superiority of the palace-style buildings, for its capability to withstand tonnes of dust. The endless stretch of construction on the way to the weed-concealed Women's hostel did little to improve my impression either.
In short, it was hatred at first sight. I was already dying for the dates for the second counselling. Stanley, babe, wait for me.
Not one to waste time, we rush back to Kerala where we as good as head straight to the Airport and back to the Garden city of UAE.
-Interval-
