NAMASTEY LONDON
The plane dipped low, shuddering as it cut through the clouds. Ayesha pressed her forehead against the cold window, watching the sprawl of London emerge through sheets of drizzle. The city gleamed with rain, its streets glowing under scattered streetlamps, buses flashing red as they sped past.Her throat tightened. This wasn’t just another arrival. This was her arrival
After years of being knocked down by everyone—even by those she once called her closest—Ayesha finally stood where she had always dreamed to be. From struggling through NEET with zero support, to working as a medical officer just to save enough to study, to finally clearing PLAB—she had fought her way here, step by step.
Now, she was in the place she believed she belonged. Alone, yes—but stronger than ever. She had built herself from nothing, brick by brick, until she became her own foundation.
All of it—the pain, the betrayals, the relentless struggle—flashed before her eyes, compressing into a single tear that slipped down her cheek. But she didn’t let it break her.
Instead, Ayesha lifted her chin and whispered to herself, steady and fierce:“This is my time. My happiness. My life.”
Because for once, she wasn’t just a survivor. She was the main character
The captain’s voice filled the cabin:“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to London Heathrow.”
Her lips curved into a quiet smile.
At immigration, the officer barely glanced up before stamping her passport. “Welcome to the UK, Doctor,” The word hummed in your chest like a secret melody only she could hear. she wasn’t officially a full-fledged practitioner here yet—rotations awaited, assessments, and challenges she couldn’t even imagine. But that single word felt like a crown you had fought for with blood and bone.
Outside, the night air was damp, carrying the smell of rain and fuel. London shimmered, half-asleep yet alive, buses flashing by in streaks of red, buildings tall and ancient, the streets littered with neon reflections. she sat silently in the back of the cab, staring out as though afraid to blink and miss something. As she was living her lifelong dream. As Ayesha lived her lifelong dream, a memory surfaced—one so pure and innocent that it almost startled her. She remembered being in kindergarten, staring at the rhyme book with wide eyes, her little heart secretly wishing to one day celebrate Christmas the way it looked in those glossy pictures. it was her most innocent and first core memory .
She whispered absentmindedly, almost to herself, “It’s still remaining... Christmas.”
The cab driver glanced at her through the mirror, slightly puzzled. “Christmas is far away, ma’am. But London is heaven this time of year.”
Ayesha caught her reflection in the cab window and smiled softly, her eyes glimmering.Yes,she thought,I hope I feel it.
She was loving her own smile, loving the feeling of simply being alive in that moment.
By the time she arrived at a small flat her hospital had arranged a modest apartment, just as they did for many new international doctors starting their first rotations. It wasn’t grand, but it was safe, close to the hospital, and hers to make a home.
The space was small: cream-colored walls, a single bed pressed neatly against one side, a desk by the window, a wardrobe that smelled faintly of wood polish, and a heater that rattled when switched on. To someone else, it might have looked plain. To Ayesha, it was perfect.better than her countrys hostels which were shabby even after beating so much competition.
She unpacked carefully, arranging her books first , Next came her clothes, folded neatly into the wardrobe. She placed a tiny plant by the window, a gift she had carried from home, its green leaves a reminder of where she came from. And finally, she made the bed with the hospital-issued sheets, smoothing them down with care, almost reverently.
That night, lying under the thin blanket, Ayesha couldn’t sleep. The excitement was too strong. Tomorrow, she would step into a British hospital for the first time, badge pinned proudly to her coat. Tomorrow,she will be living her dream
In the morning, Ayesha woke up early and got ready, a mix of nerves and excitement buzzing in her chest. As she stepped into the corridor, a cheerful voice called out.
“You must be Ayesha! I’m Priya, from Kerala. You’re starting today too?”
Ayesha smiled, relief warming her. Priya’s energy was instantly comforting—the kind that made her feel she’d known her for years instead of seconds. Ayesha found herself relaxing, even daring to hope this girl might become more than just a colleague.
Soon after, two others joined them. Daniel, a tall, kind-hearted doctor from Ghana, cracked a joke about already knowing the best breakfast spots nearby. His easy laughter filled the corridor, smoothing over the morning jitters. Then there was Farahan, a witty Pakistani doctor with sharp eyes and a grin that hinted at mischief. He teased everyone in equal measure, tossing in sarcastic remarks that had the group laughing, though Ayesha noticed he sometimes looked at her a beat longer than the others.
Over hurried slices of toast and steaming coffee, they traded stories—about flights, families, struggles, and hopes. Priya and Daniel made her feel safe, grounding her in a way she hadn’t expected. And Farahan? He kept the table lively with banter, leaning in to whisper about the rumored “strict but brilliant consultant” who supposedly terrified juniors in their department.
For the first time in years, Ayesha felt less like a stranger and more like she belonged. Yet, even as she smiled and laughed with them, a voice deep inside reminded her:Don’t get too attached. Friends don’t always stay. People leave.
Still, something about Priya’s warmth, Daniel’s steady kindness, and Farahan’s quick wit made her wonder if—this time—things might be different
The four of them walked together through the glass doors of St. Mary’s Hospital, their new workplace, lanyards swinging from their necks. The reception area buzzed with the rhythm of early morning—nurses swapping shifts, junior doctors clutching coffees, and the steady hum of monitors from beyond.At the front desk, they queued to sign in. The woman at reception, brisk but polite, checked their IDs and handed them temporary access cards. “Induction in Conference Room B, first floor. Don’t get lost,” she said with the clipped efficiency of someone who’d said it a hundred times before.
As they made their way down the corridor, Ayesha couldn’t help noticing the looks. Some were friendly—nurses smiled, a registrar nodded in welcome. But others carried that subtle sharpness she’d feared: a raised eyebrow at their accents, a fleeting glance at their brown skin, the unspokenyou’re not from here, are you?It was nothing new, but it still stung.
Priya looped her arm through Ayesha’s and whispered, “Ignore it. We’ll prove ourselves.” Daniel gave them both a reassuring grin. Farahan, of course, muttered, “Let them stare. We’ll outshine them soon enough.”
Inside the induction room, they were ushered toward the back where other new recruits were gathering. That’s when Ayesha heard it—an unmistakable squeal:
“Oh my God, are you a Swiftie too?”
She turned to see a blonde nurse with pink streaks in her hair, clutching a Taylor Swift tote bag. Ayesha blinked, caught off guard, then laughed. “Wait—you’rea Swiftie?”
The nurse gasped dramatically. “Babes, I live and breathe Taylor. Don’t tell me you do too?”
Ayesha grinned, something light and teenage bubbling up inside her. “You have no idea.”
They burst into laughter, startling a few others around them. Within minutes, they were chatting about favorite albums, heartbreak anthems, and upcoming tour dates. The nurse introduced herself as Chloe, one of the ward sisters. “Stick with me, doc. We’ll survive this place together. Besides,” she winked, “you’ve got the look of someone who needs a partner in crime.”
Before Ayesha could reply, the room shifted. The consultant had arrived.
Dr. Edward Harrington strode in—a tall man in his fifties with sharp features and a reputation that preceded him. Conversations hushed instantly. He was the name whispered about over coffee—the “strict but brilliant” senior who terrified juniors yet somehow commanded respect across the hospital.
His gaze swept the room, pausing briefly on Chloe, who gave a cheeky wave. Ayesha caught it—a flicker of recognition, the faintest softening of his stern expression.He knows her.
And then, his eyes shifted toward the new doctors. Toward her.
For the first time that day, Ayesha felt her stomach knot. This was no longer a dream. It was the beginning of everything she’d fought for—and she had no idea what awaited her under Dr. Harrington’s watchful eye.
