No Companion - A Journey of Self-Discovery

I was born and raised in a well-known village in South India. As the third child of my parents, I grew up between two elder brothers and a younger brother who came after me. After my youngest brother's birth, my parents stopped having children due to medical reasons, although it was common in Indian villages at that time for women to have eight to ten children on average.

Growing up without sisters never bothered me in my childhood. In fact, I was happy just having siblings. It wasn't until much later in life that I realized there would be moments when having a sister might have made a difference. From an early age, I was quite a tomboy. I would play cricket, street games, and marbles with my brothers, often even placing friendly bets with them. There were many occasions when I emerged victorious in these games, much to their surprise.

However, everything changed when I reached puberty. My brothers suddenly became uncomfortable with me playing alongside them. They would yell at me to stay home and help our mother with household chores instead. Their abrupt change in behavior upset me deeply, but it also taught me an important lesson about how relationships can transform unexpectedly.

I told my mother about my brothers not allowing me to play with them anymore. She explained that as a growing girl, it wasn't appropriate for me to play with boys, suggesting I play with other girls instead. However, in my village, there were mostly boys and very few girls. Even at school, the few girls present were from different castes, and social norms prevented me from befriending them. This left me completely alone.

I would spend my lunch breaks eating by myself in the classroom. One day, a teacher noticed this and asked why I was eating alone and if I had any friends. After hearing my story, she smiled and said something profound: "When you are alone, you become your own companion." Though the bell rang before I could ask her to explain, these words stayed with me until I was old enough to truly understand their meaning.

Despite my solitude, I never stopped living life to the fullest. I continued playing, learning, and attending school. I realized that you don't need companions to pursue your dreams. In fact, being alone can make you stronger and more positive. I learned to value my own company and became the top student both in school and college, eventually earning admission to India's best medical college through my high rank.

My success wasn't because I lacked distractions from companions; rather, it was about how I utilized my time in solitude. Even after my brothers excluded me, I found ways to play independently – bouncing a ball on a bat, playing football, chess, and other mind games. I drew, painted, and swam in the river alone. The only time I truly felt hurt was when my brothers rejected me simply because I was a girl.

My passion for science led me to spend time at the government hospital where my maternal aunt (Maasi) worked as a nurse. I was fascinated by how doctors healed people, what I then considered their "magic." I conducted my own research and sought guidance from my Maasi about becoming a doctor.

After completing my medical education, I found love and companionship in a fellow doctor. Our shared passion for medicine and our similar life experiences forged a deep bond. Together, we embarked on a journey to serve humanity, opening a clinic in my village to provide free healthcare to the underprivileged.

Looking back, I am grateful for my unconventional childhood. It shaped me into the person I am today, a resilient, independent, and compassionate individual. The absence of a traditional childhood, devoid of playmates and social gatherings, paradoxically empowered me. It taught me the importance of self-reliance, resilience, and the power of the human spirit. I learned to find joy in solitude, to embrace challenges, and to pursue my dreams with unwavering determination.