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She Is My Sister from Another Mother
Today I want to take you back to my medical days.
I used to live in a medical hostel, and anyone who has stayed in one will relate to this. A hostel is a strange kind of home. At first, you dislike it. You miss your family, you cry, and you wish you could go back. Then the years pass, the hostel slowly becomes your world, and when it’s finally time to leave, you cry again, this time begging not to go. It is a home that makes you cry at both ends.
Somewhere in between those two kinds of tears, you find your friends. Mostly, they are your roommates. The people who share your room, your late-night study sessions, your exam stress, your food, and your silly jokes. If you build a real attachment with them, they stop being just friends. They become your family.
Today I am writing about one such friend and roommate of mine, one of my sisters from another mother.
A Call That Brought Peace
A few days ago, she suddenly called in our WhatsApp group. The moment I saw her face on the screen, it felt like peace for my eyes. Some people carry a kind of comfort with them and she is one of them.
She is a pathologist. I am a public health specialist. We are both mothers of two kids now. Life has changed so much since our hostel days. She has gone back to…
