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NEET khatam hue bas ek mahina hi toh hua hai... and my brain has already entered attack mode. YouTube ka algorithm khud he badal gya hai. Ab har second video mein MBBS grads, PG wale bhaiya-didi, PG cracking tips, 1st year ke toppers ka gyaan... like bruh, give me a second to BREATHE.

Mujhe pata hai padhna zaroori hai, but these first attempt waley overachiever doctors make it sound like you need a “super-focused, monk mode” mindset straight from day 1.

Like wow—mujhe lagta tha NEET ke baad thoda relief milega. But no, I just escaped one huge trap, and now ready for just another one.

There’s no pause button in this game called Medicine. Pehle exam ka pressure, ab counselling ka. Uske baad college adjustments, hostel ka fear, ghar chhodne ka emotional drama—all served at once, no breaks, no chill.

Upar se friends ka constant pressure:

“Tu single kyun hai yaar?”

“College jaake toh definitely tera bhi ho jaayegi...”Arghhh bro STOPPP. I’m so done with the hormonal teenage circus.

Everyone’s talking about crushes, flings, breakups, drama—I swear every second person has a reality show storyline going on.

And here I am, freshly done with my own “phase”, suddenly hit with peak maturity where literally every guy looks like a walking red flag, and I haven’t even stepped into college yet.

Bas ab toh ek hi craving hai—study, grind, and rise. Break over. Time to enter my villain arc.

Honestly, exam prep may suck the soul out of you, but at least it gives you a purpose. Mental health is wrecked, sure, but at least you’re not being wrecked by stupid opposite gender.

Next mission: NEET PG. First attempt. High-paying job. salary at my feet.

Even daydreaming about that gives me a full-on paisa wala orgasm. LITERALLY.

Life’s too short, man. I was going through my old certificates recently and I found my 1st standard gold medal—Rank 1 in class, 300-something in the state, 1000-something in the country in SOF Science Olympiad. I peaked eary.

And now? Just trying to survive. My start was grand; it’s only fair that my comeback should be legendary.

I tell mom all this, and she drops the truth bomb:

“Pehle phone nahi chalti tha na.”

DAMN. Mummy’s got a point. This stupid phone is the villain in my origin story. I wasn’t just meant to be a topper—I was a topper.

Carol competition – 1nd prize.

Cancer awareness essay – 1nd prize.

Kathak 3-year degree – 1st class.

I was a certified genius in primary school. And honestly? I miss that kid.

Younger Sneha had her shit together.

7–2 school.

2–3 nap.

4 homework.

5–7 play.

7–9 mummy tuition.

9–10 TV.

Then sleep. Peaceful. Focused. Genuinely happy.Back then, 3 hours of study = top marks.Now? Even 12 hours = average rank. It’s exhausting.But you know what? I’m bringing her back. That version of me who didn’t chase people, didn’t care about validation, and knew how to stay on track.

Gonna bring that topper bacchi back in me now it’s so needed to stay on track.

*wanna recreate this so many milestones to cover.