A Leaf In The Storm: Laisa’s Journey As A Resident Doctor In Tripura
Tracking Indian Youth: Laisa
The Tracking Indian Youth Attitudes Media Fellowship presents the next in a series of stories capturing the socio-political views and experiences of young people across India.
Laisa is a 25-year-old first-year resident doctor at Agartala Government Medical College in the OB-GYN department. It's a job with long hours and little respite. It was past 11 p.m. by the time Laisa and I were finally able to connect—an hour later than we had planned.
After several rejections, I found Laisa by building a bridge of multiple contacts in Tripura. Others, while supportive, feared being taken out of context and facing repercussions. But Laisa was willing to go on record, believing it’s important to speak out.
“Around 80% of the women I treat are underprivileged. They often lack basic awareness. I once treated a 13-year-old girl who was pregnant with her first child. She was married at 13. It broke my heart. She had only studied till class 5. If she had received a better education, she might have been aware of her rights. I want to change this.”
Read her full story below. Profile by Jyotsna Singh.
Jyotsna: Did you just get off your duty?
Laisa: Yes, it was a busy day at work. I came back home from the hospital, had dinner, and messaged you right away. I’m yet to take a shower, but I think we should do this first. I didn’t want to keep you waiting any longer.
Jyotsna: Alright, let’s start from the beginning. Please take me through your journey. Where were you born, and what was your childhood like?
Laisa: I grew up in Khumulwng, a town in Tripura. My parents worked incredibly hard to support me. We had a small garment shop, and I spent a lot of time there studying while my parents worked. Being an only child with no one else to look after me, I stayed close to my parents.
I wouldn’t call my childhood abnormal, but it was different. I’ve never been to an amusement park or a family picnic. My parents were always busy working to make ends meet. We had a bicycle, and all three of us would ride to the shop together — my mother in the back and me in the front, and my father sandwiched between us. Thinking of those days still makes me emotional.
I was always curious and eager to learn. I liked learning new things more than studying. I loved picking up languages and asking questions.
Jyotsna: Are your parents still running the shop?
Laisa: Yes. When I moved to Agartala for my higher education, my parents came with me and opened a new garment shop here. It has since grown into a handloom brand called ‘Taak-borok.’ We now have multiple stores across Agartala.
Jyotsna: That’s wonderful. What inspired you to become a doctor?
Laisa: A part of me wanted to be someone who could help people. I know I can’t be God, but I wanted to make a difference. There was no pressure from my family. I completed my MBBS at Agartala Government Medical College. I got into RML in Lucknow for post-graduation, but my parents weren’t keeping well, so I decided to stay back and do my M.D. from the same college.
Laisa, 25 years old
Jyotsna: How has your experience been as a resident doctor?
Laisa: It’s been eye-opening. I am an OB-GYN. It was my first and only choice. I’ve always loved this subject. I can’t explain it, but I knew I wanted to be an OB-GYN.
Around 80% of the women I treat are underprivileged. They often lack basic awareness. I once treated a 13-year-old girl who was pregnant with her first child. She was married at 13. It broke my heart. She had only studied till class 5. If she had received a better education, she might have been aware of her rights. I want to change this. I want to educate these women, at least on the basics of sex education and self-care.
Jyotsna: Do you counsel your patients on protection and reproductive health?
Laisa: Yes, we do. The government supplies free contraceptives, but many people aren’t aware of this. Part of our job is to educate them on how to use these resources.
Jyotsna: You mentioned your indigenous heritage earlier. Could you tell me more about your community?
Laisa: I am Debbarma. We have many different tribes here, and Debbarma is the main clan in Tripura.
Jyotsna: When you say it's the main clan, do you mean in terms of population?
Laisa: Yes, we come from the Manikya dynasty. Our language is Kokborok. Tripura is home to around 19 tribes, but these tribes are spread across the state. In the capital city, Agartala, the tribal population is much smaller, with the Bengali community forming the majority. Indigenous people have become a minority here.
Jyotsna: Does tension between the communities still exist because of this?
Laisa: Yes, it does. It feels like a riot could break out any moment. There is a lingering sense of being ruled by outsiders, and there is a lack of representation for the tribal community in the state government.
Jyotsna: Do you get time to keep up with the news and current affairs? Where do you get your news from?
Laisa: I used to, but now I’m so busy with work that I barely get the time. For news, I watch independent YouTubers like Dhruv Rathee and Akash Banerjee. I feel like they’re more uninhibited and speak the truth, at least to some extent. I wouldn't say I trust them completely, but I believe they speak the truth to some extent as compared to the media houses.
Jyotsna: Apart from the protections for the tribal community, what other issues would you like politicians to take up?
Laisa: There are still parts of Tripura without electricity, proper roads, water supply, or sanitation. I see this every day in the hospital — so many people are brought in dead because they couldn’t reach the hospital in time due to poor road conditions. Peripheral hospitals are not equipped to handle emergencies. Malaria is also a major problem in rural areas. Many people, including small children, die from malaria.
It’s heartbreaking because these deaths are entirely preventable if the government takes the right steps. But instead, politicians are more interested in filling their own pockets and exploiting people’s religious sentiments. People are brainwashed. I don’t like extremism when it comes to religion and politics — it blinds people from recognizing the real issues.
Jyotsna: It sounds like you worry a lot about these issues because your job brings you face-to-face with them every day. How do you ensure your mental and physical well-being?
Laisa: I talk to my loved ones. My colleagues are also very supportive. Since they’re going through the same thing, they understand.
Jyotsna: I’ve heard that resident doctors often experience a toxic work environment in their initial years.
Laisa: Yeah, that’s true. It mostly comes from seniors. They think that because they suffered, we should too. There are days we get humiliated for mistakes we didn’t even make. First-years are often made scapegoats if something goes wrong. Every day, we’re scolded by seniors and consultants. The words they use can shatter your soul. (Her voice breaks as she says this.)
Sometimes I wonder how I’ll get through these years. Will I still be okay after three years?
Jyotsna: Has the hospital set up any counseling sessions or support systems for first-year students? This sounds like a lot to handle.
Laisa: No counseling. We’re understaffed and overworked. This is the only referral hospital in the state, so the patient load is overwhelming. We have limited resources too. I break down almost every day. It’s taking a serious toll on my mental health. That’s the irony — we’re looking after patients but not ourselves. You can only save someone when you’re okay yourself.
Jyotsna: What about your salary? Are you getting paid monthly?
Laisa: I joined my residency on January 6th, and I still haven’t been paid. Delays of three to four months are normal here.
Jyotsna: The job of a doctor carries so much prestige, but it seems like that’s only for the outside world. Were you aware it would be like this?
Laisa: I was. Not just me — everyone who prepares for post-graduation knows what it’s like. But people normalize the toxic environment. I think it’s a coping mechanism.
But I’ll tell you this — when I assist in deliveries, I witness the immense pain a woman goes through during labor. It’s more than ten times the pain of period cramps. Yet the moment she sees her baby, the pain is replaced by a smile. That moment makes all the blood, sweat, and tears worth it.
Jyotsna: Even if you’re not paid?
Laisa: Even if I’m not paid. It’s worth all the pain. (And her smile is back.)
Jyotsna: Do you like watching films or reading books?
Laisa: I read. I wouldn’t call myself a bookworm, but I enjoy reading. I loved Durjoy Datta’s Till the Last Breath. I used to read it during school breaks, and I remember crying by the end. I also love listening to music. During my teen years in Khumulwng, I’d watch the night sky, filled with stars, and listen to music. It was peaceful.
(As the mood lightens, I glance at the time — it’s almost 1 a.m. It’s time to wrap up.)
Jyotsna: Lastly, what does Laisa mean?
Laisa: It means a leaf.
(We say our goodbyes, but for Laisa, the day isn’t over — and another long day awaits her tomorrow.)
This is an ongoing series of profiles documenting the experiences of young people across India. Stay tuned for more stories from the youth of India. Follow us on social media for more updates.
Great to hear about the Young Doctor Laisa. It inspires and lifts the spirit.