It literally kills me that I am not a doctor and I have been dying realizing this. How could I let that happen? How was I not serious about the only thing that mattered to me? Why did it happen to me? How?
It was in spring 2015 that I realized that the entrance examination going to be conducted in late May the same year was something I would definitely fail in. now, many of you who'd read this would say that nothing good comes out of negativity. But I knew I was unprepared. I hadn't at all touched the one subject out of three that I couldn't cope with in the two months coming.
I scored 111.75, exactly short of 3.75 to make it to a government medical college where the annual fee was just nothing. I did make it to the private college where the course fee for five year was US $45,000 at that time. This was far beyond what my family could afford.
I was shattered, yet I never spoke about it. Never. Actually, if I have to be brutally honest, I didn't feel anything. I should have felt utter sadness and the protocol would be to descend into mourning, but I was numb. I joined a community college where anyone actually would be admitted even if he has scored 60 % in his senior year.
I decided to simply pursue a B.Sc. in Zoology, the animal science, that I thought would be interesting and moreover would help me in the preparation for my medical entrance exam. I joined an institution and enrolled in their test series, free of cost though. The lady, who owned the institution was a generous lady, understood the financial condition of my family, and suggested that I drop one more year. My mother decided against it, and so did I. That was one of the worst decisions I ever made.
December 2015 brought the horrors of the failure I endured in May the same year. The teacher and specifically my Zoology teacher had made my life a hell. I was depressed. It generally goes as down as 1 degree Celsius, and I would, thus, curl into my bed and do nothing. I would cry and I tried to kill myself which I couldn't as it turned out I was a coward too. It takes a great deal of bravery to do that either.
I made successfully into 2016 but with nothing new: One direction, crying and depression. I didn't go to the course and I didn't study the stuff from college either. I was absolutely a big failure, and people around me would leave no opportunity to make me feel bad about it. Of course, they would do it, why wouldn't they? I didn't clear the 2016 one too. My dream to become a doctor was officially over.
Now why am I writing this? Why am I sharing a part that is too personal to me? Why am I throwing all the personal information that might mean nothing to you?
Because, I know how it feels when dreams are shattered. Dreams and opportunities are lost in the blink of an eye. You can lose things that you are confident will be yours. You can never achieve things that you may have thought was meant to be.
Life is an unfaithful friend. Lessons are taught that you are not sure what its relevance is. What is so achievable sometimes is not.
Be serious about things that matter to you. If you don't, know this: regret lasts for life. Tears will stream down, and there will nothing you can do to stop it.
In this all, you are left to wonder: is it our tendency to never be actually serious?
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Stories from A Troubled Boy
Non-Fiction..and I was different. "He is weird," said my seniors, tone redolent with mockery. And nicknames began. I have now lost count of the names. There are many, and it reached my home. My single mother was worried about who I was going to be. Though...
