A funny story of how a student who couldn’t score well in the NEET exam convinces his parents to send him to Georgia (the country) to study MBBS in Tbilisi State Medical University!
Chetan stared at his NEET results for the tenth time that morning. “303 out of 720.” He groaned and flopped onto his bed like a deflated balloon. His dream of becoming a doctor in India was as dead as his marks in Physics.
His mother, Mrs. Ranjana Shah, walked in holding a plate of dhokla. “Beta, you look sadder than our neighbor’s dog when it rains. What happened?”
Chetan sighed dramatically. “Maa, my NEET score is lower than the temperature in Antarctica. No medical college in India will take me.”
His father, Mr. Avinash Shah, peeked in from behind his mother. “I saw this coming. You didn’t?”
“Please do not tease my son. He’s already troubled,” said Mrs. Shah to her husband. “Don’t worry Beta. We will think of something.”
“Yeah, there’s always a Plan-B. Selling chai like our world famous Ex Chief Minister, may be,” quipped Mr. Shah.
Mrs. Shah glared at her husband as Chetan wailed. “Papa! I don’t want to sell chai… and I don’t want to enter into politics either. I want to become Dr. Chetan Shah, world-famous heart surgeon!”
He jumped up, eyes sparkling. “And I do have a new plan – I’ll study MBBS abroad, in Georgia!”
Mrs. Shah frowned. “Georgia? Like… the American state with peaches?”
“No, Maa! Georgia the country. Near Russia! They have great medical colleges. I will pursue MBBS in Georgia!”
Mr. Shah crossed his arms. “And how do you know all this?”
Chetan grinned. “YouTube, Papa. If it can teach people to make biryani, it can teach me how to overcome being disqualified in NEET exam.”
Mr. Shah said, “OK, we shall discuss this when I am back from office tonight,” as he stepped out of the door closing it behind him.
Chetan looked desperately towards his mom, who rolled her eyes up while making a move towards the kitchen.
Now, Chetan knew convincing his parents wouldn’t be easy. He was confident that he could get his mother to agree. But his father was always the tough one to convince.
So, he wracked his brains till he came up with an elaborate, multi-pronged plan.
Even as the plan took shape and gave him confidence for a little while, it stated to wane as the hands of the clock moved towards the time his father came back home from work.
“Will I be able to do it?” he asked himself. He almost felt like a soldier going on a death defying mission.
“I am home,” his father’s voice boomed in the living home at that very moment!
“I just got to do it,” Chetan told himself. “There’s no other option!”
Step 1: Guerilla Attack
At dinner, Chetan put on his saddest face. “Maa, remember how you always said I should follow my dreams? Well, my one and only dream is crying and it’s dying.”
“What’s gotten into him today,” asked Mr. Shah as he reached for the bowl of rice.
Mrs. Shah sighed. “He wants to go to abroad for his MBBS, you know. He spoke about it in the morning to you too.”
“Beta, foreign countries are scary. Have you forgotten Russia-Ukraine war? And what if you get sick? What if you eat something weird?” said Mr. Shah hoping to dissuade Chetan.
Chetan waved his hands. “They have hospitals, Papa! And I will be studying at Tbilisi State Medical University. It is a 100+ years old institution and has hundreds of competent and experienced doctors.”
He then fired his first salvo, “And in any case, I won’t eat anything stranger than what is served at the Punjabi Chaat Restaurant you were at with your friends from Ambala last week.”
Mr. Shah choked on his rice and sheepishly stole a glance at his wife.
“Your doctor advised you to stay away from that junk food, you know,” said Mr. Shah glaring at her husband.
“It wasn’t anything. I didn’t really have anything,” Mr. Shah mumbled.
Step 2: The Tactical Retreat
“Yes, Maa. I was there with my friends too. I saw Papa didn’t eat anything much while there. Just a bite or two as his friends were insisting,” said Chetan.
“And I was there for Jagat’s birthday treat, which you gave me permission for. I didn’t eat much either,” Chetan’s voice trailed off as he felt his mother’s eyes turning towards him.
“Okay let’s discuss this MBBS abroad plan of yours a little later. Let’s focus on the dinner for now,” said Mr. Shah hoping to diffuse the situation.
Everyone went back to the food on their plates. One could hear just the sound of spoons scraping on the plates for the next few minutes.
Step 3: The Financial Lure
After dinner, Mr. Shah asked Chetan, “Why are you only considering MBBS? There are so many other professions that you could consider.”
“Yes. Mr. Mehta’s daughter became an interior designer last year and from what I hear, she’d doing great and earning very well, added Mrs. Shah.
But Chetan didn’t want his agenda to be sidelined. He pulled out his laptop and opened a website. “Papa, look! Studying in India costs 1 crore rupees. In Georgia? Only 30 lakhs! We’ll save 70 lakhs. More than enough for me to establish my own clinic and start my own practice when I come back as a doctor,” said Chetan in an excited voice.
“Yeah, we could even buy a new car,” added his mother.
Mr. Shah’s eyes lit up. “A new car?” Then he frowned. “Wait, how do we know this isn’t a scam?”
Chetan pulled up a video of a happy Indian student in Georgia. “See? This guy went last year. He’s alive, healthy, and even learned to say ‘hello’ in Georgian!”
Mr. Shah squinted. “What if you fail there too?”
Chetan gasped. “Maa! Please ask Papa to have some faith. I’ll work hard, I promise,” he said in a trembling voice.
He then took a deep breath and unleashed his secret weapon.
It was time. Now or never!
Step 4: The Grand Finale – The Guilt Trip
“If you don’t send me, I’ll have to do BSc… and then MBA… and then work in a boring office… and die of sadness!” He fake-sobbed into his hands.
Mrs. Shah’s heart melted. “Oh, beta, don’t cry, please!”
Mr. Shah groaned. “Fine! But if you waste our money, you’re coming back and opening a chai stall whether or not you like it.”
Chetan jumped up, cheering. “Yes! No more NEET! No more Indian coaching centers! Just me, Georgia, and my future as Dr. Chetan Shah!”
The next couple of months were filled with so many forms to fill – admission, passport, visa and what not.
“Thank God, we found an experienced visa agent to take care of all this stuff,” whispered Mr. Shah to himself while putting photo copies of all the paperwork in an envelope.
Time just flew away and a few weeks later, Chetan stood at the airport, hugging his parents goodbye.
Mrs. Shah was emotional. “Beta, you must call me every day. And don’t go around eating too much junk food!”
Mr. Shah handed him an envelope. “Here’s some extra money. Use it wisely. Or at least don’t lose it like you lost your NEET admit card.”
Chetan grinned. “Don’t worry, Papa. I will make you proud!”
As he walked towards the security check, he whispered to himself, “And if not… well, a chai stall doesn’t sound that bad either. Especially when there is a prospect to become a Chief Minister some day!”