I missed my brother’s wedding.
Yeah, his wedding. The one we dreamt about, the one we planned for years. I was supposed to help him pick his sherwani. I was supposed to tease him during haldi and dance in his baraath.
Instead, I sat in my room surrounded by NCERT books, pyq papers, and a guilt so loud I couldn’t even hear the baraath music outside my window.
Because NEET was in 3 weeks.And one “break” meant 10 questions I could’ve revised. One ceremony meant one missed revision cycle.And God forbid I score 615 instead of 640.
So I stayed.
And cried.