Becoming a doctor is not just the pinnacle of an average Indian student’s academic dreams but also a platform that bridges the status gap. Once in medical school, you are among the country’s intellectual elites, and rightfully so, a coveted place of pride. However, being in one of the noblest professions comes with some not-so-obvious downsides.
For the uninitiated, graduating from medical school with an MBBS degree is not a happily-ever-after scenario. It simply means you have a basic medical degree and a license. The subjects are divided into specialties and super-specialties, each with a vast curriculum, plus clinical duties. For a medical graduate to study and later work in their chosen speciality, they must spend at least three to six years training in that speciality. The entry to this is through an entrance examination known as NEET-PG.
So, what’s the big deal? Another exam, right? No, it’s not that simple. Given the huge mismatch between the demand and supply of medical PG seats and the increasing number of candidates appearing each year, your chance of getting into a desired specialty is assured only if you are among the top thousand or two thousand. With more than 200,000 applicants each year, an average medico would spend at least one to two years post-MBBS preparing for the PG entrance exams. At this point, their age would be around 24-25 years, and by the time they get into a chosen speciality, finish the course, and are ready to start a career, many of them would be nearing thirty or more.
This is the time when many life-changing choices are being made, and it aligns painfully with the most uncertain period of a med graduate’s life—PG preparation days. More so if you are a woman. Even more so if you are an Indian woman. Because here comes your unique, million-dollar question: career or marriage? Dare you opt for both? Welcome to the warfront of emotions, career breaks, depression, and anxiety—just in time when you are about to face one of the nation’s toughest competitive examinations.
For those who finally end up in a PG course of their liking, the challenges don’t end there. Long hours, night shifts, and emergency duties leave little time for self-care routines, and forget about family responsibilities. Apart from ward work and clinical duties, one has to dedicate quality time to academics and research as well. Safety concerns, difficult colleagues, and seniors all together rarely make residency a happy place, despite getting to work in a field of one’s choice. And about the toll it takes on one’s mental health—the rising statistics of PG students with mental illness and committing suicide are just the tip of the iceberg.
The unique struggle of a female medical graduate
According to a Lancet study done in 2021, only 17% of doctors in India are women—mind you, this is a country where 48% of the population are women, with a doctor-patient ratio of 1:834. A 2018 AIIMS study revealed that more than 60% of women doctors reported “marriage sustainability” and “family responsibilities” influencing their choice of specialities.
For a female medical graduate, the journey post-MBBS degree is not just an academic challenge—it’s a cultural battleground. The moment they graduate, society presents them with two choices:
- Continue studies and secure a specialization: This means dedicating another three to five years to their medical career.
- Get married, “settle down,” and put career decisions on hold. Or “adjust” to family-friendly options.
While male doctors are rarely forced to choose, for women, this is an emotional and often forced trade-off. The idea that women must prioritize marriage and family over career growth is deeply ingrained in Indian society, even among educated people. Moreover, there is the dread of a “ticking biological clock,” which can be easily correlated with a 2022 Times of India survey finding that 67% of Indian parents believed that a woman should get married at least by the age of 27—a direct clash with medical school timelines!
Another vulnerable group: First-generation doctors
Compared to peers who had parents or siblings as doctors, first-generation doctors walk a tightrope with nobody to guide them through the maze. Many come from families where the concept of residency, night shifts, and work-life balance is alien. An MBBS degree is considered a “reasonable level” of education—not a career foundation. And many of them must have already heard, “Child, now you are saying you want to do MD; later you will say you want DM, and then it will go on… Do you think you will find such a good marriage proposal always?”
Financial dependence is another big elephant in the room. PG preparation involves coaching, materials, and living expenses, which many cannot fund independently. The thought of another three to five years of exams and residency with low stipends is met with resistance, especially when marriage is seen as the next ‘logical’ step.
The marriage market value syndrome
A “doctor bahu (bride)” brings with her a unique sense of social prestige and pride. Besides being the free family doctor and 24/7 health hotline for every extended relative, Indian society rarely thinks of her as a professional who holds as much credibility as her spouse. This is why she is often steered towards “tension-free” “female-friendly” branches like Dermatology, Radiology, and Pathology, while the “risky” branches are reserved for men. Ironically, while being a doctor bride may sound appealing, an ambitious, career-driven doctor bride is often seen as problematic. Because “beta, koi lighter branch le le, warna ghar kaun sambhal lega?”
The emotional rollercoaster
Being the first doctor in the family can be lonely when no one at home understands what you’re going through. Every career choice, every night shift, every exam attempt needs to be justified, not just to themselves, but to the entire extended family, neighbors, and society at large. Imagine being expected to solicit medical advice at every family gathering while harboring the guilt of being “too ambitious,” a “burden to parents.”
Marriage is not a deadline, and ambition is no disease
Having said so, the view is not entirely bleak. Many female doctors successfully balance both career and marriage with good family support, flexible and humane training policies, and a comfortable working atmosphere. But that is a spin-off and not yet the norm. Our system and social perspective have a lot more to go in terms of women and their career choices. Prioritizing career stability over marriage and family is a fundamental right, not a choice. A female doctor’s career isn’t an inconvenience to be managed—it’s a valuable contribution to society. The more families, workplaces, and communities recognize this, the more women can truly have both—a successful marriage and a fulfilling career.
