Skip to main content

From “I’ll Never Be a Doctor” to “Hi, I’m an Ayurvedic Student!” – A Twisty Tale

 Since childhood, I’ve always heard people saying they want to become doctors. And I used to be like—why is everyone so obsessed with that white coat dream? Even parents were training their kids like, “Beta, one day you’ll be Dr. XYZ.”

I honestly found it a bit... cringe.

I was that “I’ll-be-different-from-the-crowd” girl. While everyone ran towards stethoscopes, I was dreaming about ISRO, satellites, and space suits. Then came my engineering obsession—architecture, aerospace... you name it, I planned it. And all this because I got decent marks in Physics and thought I was the next Tesla. (Delulu much?)


I used to roast the medical field, like, “If everyone becomes a doctor, who will build the roads, bhai?” My mom was the sole audience to these TED Talks.

Until... life pulled out its reverse card.


Enter: lockdown.

All those online classes, endless sitting, and zero movement gifted me something special—an unbearable back pain. It was so intense, I couldn’t even breathe properly. Trust me, no exaggeration here. You’ll think I’m gaslighting you or making this up for drama, but I swear on my hostel lunch—it’s all true.


I tried allopathy, did rounds of physiotherapy, but my pain said, “I’m not going anywhere, babes.”

Board exams were near and I was crying more over my back than my syllabus.


Then one day, someone told my mom about a local Ayurvedic vaidya. Just a small one-room setup near our home. No fancy equipment. No degrees on the wall. Just pure old-school magic. He applied some herbal oil and did a massage... and that pain that haunted me for MONTHS—disappeared.

Gone. Poof.


That day, my inner anti-doctor died a peaceful death. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. And no, he didn’t chant spells or do some Harry Potter nonsense—it was all herbal and hands-on. I repeat, I’m not lying. Even my inner skeptic sat down and shut up.


But you know what? That wasn’t my first Ayurvedic miracle.


Back in 8th grade, I had severe stomach pain and vomiting. Doctors recommended keyhole surgery. I cried like a baby. Then we tried another Ayurvedic doctor known for treating kidney stones. Took the medicine, followed the diet (goodbye biryani), and after two months—no stone. MRI clear.

That was the first spark.


But it was 12th grade’s back pain saga that turned that spark into a full-blown flame.

From hating the idea of becoming a doctor to entering the world of Ayurveda... Plot twist, right?


Moral of the story?


Sometimes, the path we walk is not the one we imagined—it’s the one we were meant for.

I used to mock the medical field without knowing its depth. But life, in its funny way, showed me what I needed to see.


So here’s to all those who think they’ve figured out their destiny—you haven’t.

Stay open. Stay curious.

Because sometimes, a back pain knows more than your career counselor!

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Lazy Girl’s Guide to Clearing Exams (Yes, It’s Possible!)"

 Today’s a Big Day — I Cleared My First Prof Uni Exams! Today, the results of my First Professional University Exams came out... and guess what? I CLEARED all the subjects! I’m feeling so proud of myself — genuinely happy in a way I’ve only felt during a few big moments: when I passed my 10th and 12th grades, when I cleared NEET, and when I got admission into my college. As an overthinking, ultra-sensitive girl, moments like these hit differently. Seriously, it’s pure serotonin! Looking back, I realize one thing: striving for perfection and my fear of failure literally dragged me (sometimes kicking and screaming) toward achieving my goals. However, there’s one thing I need to fix — expecting too much from myself. Yes, it pushes me forward, but sometimes, it also drains me faster than my phone battery at 2% with no charger around. Here’s a lesson life (and multiple mental breakdowns) taught me: You don’t need to stress yourself out to achieve your goals. Stay calm. Be systematic. Tr...

“This is your sign: being you is more than enough.”

 If you were the quiet kid growing up—the one who avoided group photos, spoke in whispers, and got asked “Why are you always so serious?”—then congratulations, we might be long-lost twins. See, being an introvert isn’t just a personality type. It’s a full-time job. Especially when society hands out badges of honor to the loudest kid in class and treats silence like a social disease. As a kid, people were always like, "Why doesn't she smile more?"—and clearly, none of them had ever heard of a resting face.I wasn’t shy—I was selectively social. Being decent in academics? Great. But if you lack social skills? Life becomes a level-99 difficulty mode. To make it worse, childhood is that beautiful time when people think mocking kids is a form of love. They’d point out everything: my teeth, my weight, my silence. As if I was a walking review page. “Can’t smile properly.” “Too quiet.” “Looks sad even while eating snacks.” Bro, I was just existing. Honestly, for some adults, teasi...

From Narrow Mindset to Open Books:

 When I first joined college, I had one simple (and very wrong) idea in my head: "Anatomy and Physiology are everything!" Because hey, they were related to modern medicine, and obviously, modern = important, right? So naturally, I poured my heart and soul into studying them, believing that mastering these two would make me a star student in the medical world. And guess what? That was one of the silliest mindsets I ever had. But I can't really blame myself — I was a clueless beginner who didn’t yet understand the vast beauty (and terror) of the Ayurvedic syllabus. I even did intense “research” on the internet about all the topics taught in class (of course, only in Anatomy and Physiology — because priorities!). Meanwhile, Sanskrit, Samhita, and Padartha Vigyan stood quietly in a corner like, "Hello? We exist too!" I didn’t hate them, but my narrow focus definitely pushed them to the backseat. Funny part? In my first internal exam, I scored decent marks in my ...