We moved to India mid 1996. My siblings and I left the only thing we’ve ever known in our lives to start anew.

Four days after landing onto Indian soil, we got enrolled in school. I was in 8th grade, on new land and in an unfamiliar place. I was at school where most people knew each other from the time they were in Kindergarten. My classmates would stare at me uncomprehendingly whenever I spoke. The accent was hard to follow and the Hindi/Urdu or whatever it was I spoke back then was pitiful. Imagine someone speaking your native language in an entirely different accent.

Those three years in high school were extremely difficult and uncomfortable for me. Do you know how it is to feel like you don’t belong? I was a loser and a class certified nerd; the whole high school drama, status-quo. I hated not being able to relate with my classmates, often missing my old friends who knew me inside and out and didn’t mind the weirdness that was me. I missed the familiar carefree neighborhoods and hated being jailed up here. I made friends, yes but the friendships were short lived. I won’t deny that we had fun though - those were probably the best days of that time. However, towards the end of my last year there, I chose not to be included into “the group” and that decision of mine cost me the quality of friendship I had. We were still friends, but not as close. And somewhere along the way, I made a new friend - one who may have not been well liked but understood me, somehow. I lost contact with her a few years after graduation.

Then came Intermediate. Most but not all Indian schools have grades upto 10 and then graduation, unlike graduation at the 12 grade level. After 10th grade, there were two years of an “Intermediate” course where you decide between pursuing an “Engineering” field or one related to Science. At 14/15 years of age, it’s not an easy decision to make and as a result some of us (but not all) simply go along with whatever the parents say. It was during those two years that I met some of my closest friends to date. I learnt about true friendship and just how deep those roots can run. I even got better grades. But whenever there is a beginning there must be an end; we had to part ways because our choice in professions and universities did not coincide.

A few years ago, I followed my brother and left the country to pursue Medicine. It was an experience of it’s own kind. I met all kinds of people, people of different races and age who’ve travelled away from home to study (or have fun, whichever way you want to see it). Through all the hassles of managing rent, bills, makeshift cooking, fighting homesickness, and on top of all that - studying to get good grades, I developed a sense of independence. I think we all did, if we hadn’t already. I learnt about love, friendship, and most importantly people - the countless personalities that come with them; ever amusing, ever intriguing.

Granted, I still didn’t belong, but then none of us did and that knowledge in itself was comforting. It was probably my greatest learning experience. I matured in my thinking and my relatives till this date often comment on how I’ve “changed” since I got back. Whether it’s for the better or worse is still up for debate. I know I’m still naive in more than one aspect, but I know now when to be my age.

When I came back, many of my colleagues did too. The university that I went to enabled us to complete part of our schooling at different hospitals in countries that they allowed, although they preferred we chose the US. My family was in India and so my brother and I returned there.

Clinical rotations in India was fun. We had formed a small group but weren’t always the brightest of the bunch so were often made fun of by the local students and teachers. But even when the situation got serious, I always felt that it didn’t matter as much in the long run. I had great friends; we learned together and made the best of what we had.

For reasons I’m still unsure of, this close knit group that were us started to break apart. Call it personal differences or just the natural course of life. It saddens me even now when I think about it; there comes a time when no amount of words will repair the damage done because you’re simply at a point in life where it makes no difference. I only hope that one day, life would present us with an opportunity to make amends.

And now I’m at a stand still with only a hurdle to cross before the next most important part of my life begins. Not love - no, but finally practicing the profession I hold most dear. I’m excited and frightened at the same time. I want to be good, I want to succeed and yet I can’t stop thinking of how I would handle a situation for when I would be expected to account for a mistake that I will eventually do. It’s all a process of learning and while my fear of failure has held me back a few months, there’s a part of me that wants to embrace it still.

I can’t wait for this next chapter of my life to start. What else will life throw at me at a time when I’m finally beginning to feel comfortable in my own skin? What other kinds of people will I meet, what else will I learn? It’s simply a matter of time…