‘You go ahead, I’ll join you’: In Ahmedabad’s hostel mess, how two minutes changed the fates of two friends

The friend walked out of the mess. Aryan stayed behind to wash his hands. In that split second, the aircraft crashed through the building, and everything changed forever.

Within 10 minutes, that same friend — traumatised, but alive — picked up Aryan’s phone and dialled one of his relatives in Gwalior: “Aap jaldi se aa jaiye. Aryan ghayal ho chuka hai. Usse ICU mein admit kiya gaya hai (Come quickly, Aryan is injured and in the ICU).”

Aryan’s family left for Ahmedabad from Madhya Pradesh’s Jiksouli village immediately. By the time they arrived, they learned the devastating truth — Aryan was dead.

Dr Dhaval Ghameti, president, Junior Doctors’ Association, and member, Federation of All India Medical Associations (FAIMA), told The Indian Express, “Aryan was a second-year MBBS student. He was present (in the mess) when the plane crashed. He succumbed to his injuries. His body has been handed over to his family.”

Aryan’s cousin Bhikam Singh had received the call that upended their world that day. “Within 10 minutes of the plane crash, Aryan’s room-mate called us. Aryan had just gone to the mess to eat. That’s when this disaster struck and my brother was gone,” says Bhikam.

What makes Aryan’s story particularly remarkable was his tale of perseverance. In a country where NEET coaching institutes are a must to crack the coveted medical entrance examinations, Aryan scored 700 out of 720 without stepping inside a coaching centre.

Calling Aryan “brilliant”, his cousin Bhikam says with a mixture of pride and profound sorrow, “He scored 700 out of 720 in his first attempt. While his peers in cities had access to expensive preparation courses and expert guidance, Aryan, who prepared on his own in the village, relied on study materials he found on the Internet and his own determination.”

Aryan’s score represents more than just an academic achievement. His farmer father Ramhet Rajput says he was consumed by just one dream: to make his younger son a doctor. While his elder son prepared for civil services, Ramhet channelled all his resources and hopes into Aryan’s medical education. As a farmer whose fortunes depended on the ebb and flow of the monsoons, Ramhet says he worked hard to give his children a life away from the back-breaking work in the fields.

A daily phone call at 9 pm had become a sacred ritual between the father and son. Every evening, without fail, Aryan would call his father to share details of his day — his classes, the food he ate and the small victories he scored.

During his visits home every few months, villagers would mob Aryan. “He would tell them, ‘Aap sab ki seva karunga (I will serve all of you)’,” recalls Bhikam.

Meanwhile, back in Jiksouli village, the residents have made an unspoken pact — no one will approach Aryan’s modest home at the moment. Sarpanch Pankaj Singh Karar says, “His mother doesn’t know about Aryan’s death. We are all buying time till his body arrives home for his final rites.”