Before the Examination Hall

Race for a White Coat: Merit, Opportunity, and the Children India Leaves Behind

"The true test of justice is not whether every child writes the same examination, but whether every child had the same opportunity before the examination began."

The Longest Three Hours

At exactly 1:45 PM, the gates begin to close. Parents stop walking. Students stop talking. Security guards ask everyone except the candidates to move back.

Outside the examination centre...

thousands of parents remain standing.

Some silently fold their hands and pray. Some look towards the entrance one last time. Some wipe away tears before their children notice.

For the next three hours...

their future is no longer in their hands.

Among them stands a father.

He earns just enough to keep the family going. Not enough to feel secure. For months he has watched his daughter study until midnight.

He never understood Biology.

He never knew what "mitochondria" meant.

He cannot explain organic chemistry.

But every night before sleeping he quietly asks,

"Have you eaten?"

Sometimes she nods.

Sometimes she forgets.

He notices. He says nothing.

 Last month, he sold the small gold chain he had saved for years.

Not for a wedding. Not for a festival.

To pay for one more set of books.

He tells nobody. Not even his daughter.

A few metres away another family waits. Their son has attended one of the country's best coaching institutes. He has solved thousands of practice questions.

His parents have invested years and significant money in preparing him.

They are not wrong. Every parent would do the same if they could.

Inside the examination hall both children receive the same question paper. The same answer sheet. The same three hours.

India proudly calls this equality. But before we celebrate equality, perhaps we should ask a quieter, more difficult question:

Did these children truly begin their journey from the same place?

This Is Not a Blog About NEET

Before you decide whether you agree or disagree with me... please know something. This article is not asking whether NEET should stay. Nor is it demanding that NEET should be abolished. That debate has filled television studios, election campaigns and social media for years.

Because this article is about something much larger.

It is about justice, not merely legal justice, but the everyday justice of opportunity, dignity, and fairness.

If you came here expecting another article saying, "NEET should be abolished."

you may be disappointed.

If you came expecting ,"NEET is perfect."

you may also be disappointed.

Instead, I want to ask a different question. One that rarely makes headlines.

Can a three-hour examination correct inequalities that begin fifteen years earlier?

If the answer is no... then perhaps the conversation should not begin with NEET. It should begin long before the examination hall.

A Question That Refuses to Leave Me

For months...

India has debated NEET.

Should it stay?

Should it go?

Politicians argue. Television anchors shout. Social media chooses sides.

Every year... new statistics emerge.

New court judgments arrive. New committee reports are published. New promises are made.

Yet somehow...

I feel we continue asking the wrong question. Because long before a child enters an examination hall... another examination has already taken place.

An examination of the family.

An examination of the school.

An examination of income.

An examination of geography.

An examination of language.

An examination of opportunity.

By the time the actual examination begins... those results have already shaped the child.

The Child Nobody Talks About

Every year...

television channels interview toppers.

Newspapers celebrate All India Ranks. Coaching institutes proudly display successful students.

But somewhere...

another child quietly packs away her Biology textbook.

No interview. No headlines. No celebration.

Perhaps she missed the cut-off by five marks. Perhaps twenty. Perhaps she simply couldn't afford another attempt.

We will never know.

Because history remembers those who crossed the finish line. It rarely remembers those who never reached the starting line.

We Speak About Merit...

But What Exactly Is Merit?

Few words are used more often in education than merit.

We celebrate merit. We reward merit. We defend merit.

But pause for a moment.

What exactly are we rewarding?

The ability to answer 180 questions?

The ability to memorise information?

The ability to remain calm under pressure?

Or are we unknowingly rewarding something else?

Access.

Opportunity.

Resources.

Guidance.

Time.

Financial security.

Merit does not suddenly appear on examination day.

It is quietly built over years.

Inside classrooms.

Inside libraries.

Inside homes.

Inside families that can encourage learning.

Inside schools that have experienced teachers.

Inside communities where children have time to study instead of worrying about survival.

By the time a student enters an examination hall, the story of merit has already been written.

Talent is born everywhere. Opportunity is not.

The examination merely reads the final chapter.

The examination lasts

three hours.

Preparation lasts

two years.

School lasts

twelve years.

Childhood lasts

fifteen years.

Yet somehow...

we often believe

that justice can be measured

inside those three hours.

Equality Is Not Always Justice

Imagine organising a marathon.

Twenty runners arrive.

Every runner starts from the same line.

The rules are identical. The finish line is identical.

Now imagine learning that some runners trained with Olympic coaches.

Some trained barefoot. Some had proper nutrition. Some skipped meals. Some practised on synthetic tracks.

Others ran on dusty village roads after finishing household work. Would we proudly say,

"The race is completely fair because everyone started together."

Legally, perhaps. Morally, the answer becomes much more complicated.

Education is no different.

If India wanted to identify the fastest runner, would we first ensure every child had shoes?

Or would we simply organise a race and call the winner the most deserving?

Perhaps educational justice deserves the same question. Giving every child the same examination is equality. Ensuring every child has the same opportunity to prepare for it is equity. A just society must care about both.

The Numbers Tell Their Own Story

One of the most detailed examinations of NEET's impact came from the Justice A.K. Rajan Committee, constituted by the Government of Tamil Nadu to study medical admissions after the introduction of NEET.

The committee did not merely ask who passed the examination.

It asked a more revealing question:

Who ultimately received medical seats?

Its analysis suggested that after NEET, the share of admissions changed across several groups. The committee reported lower representation among Tamil-medium students, students from rural backgrounds, and first-generation learners, while the proportion of repeat candidates increased substantially. It also highlighted the growing role of coaching in admissions.

These findings have been debated nationally, and supporters of NEET interpret the evidence differently. But the report undeniably shifted the discussion from examination scores alone to broader questions of access and opportunity.

That is a conversation worth having.

The Rise of the Coaching Economy

Education was once centred around schools. Increasingly, admission to professional courses is centred around coaching. Across India, families spend enormous sums preparing children for competitive examinations.

Some students repeat the examination once.

Some repeat it twice.

Some postpone college entirely to prepare again.

Those who can afford another year gain another chance.

Those who cannot often move on – not because they lacked determination, but because their family could no longer bear the financial cost.

Some families can afford another attempt. For one student, a gap year is another opportunity. For another, it is a luxury the family simply cannot afford.

Opportunity, too, has an entrance fee.

This raises a difficult question.

When success increasingly depends on specialised coaching, are we measuring academic ability alone, or are we also measuring the ability to access expensive preparation?

That question is uncomfortable. But ignoring it does not make it disappear.

If Coaching Has Become Essential, What Does That Say About Our Schools?

One of the strongest arguments in favour of NEET is that the examination is based largely on the NCERT/CBSE syllabus taught in schools. If that is true, yet another uncomfortable question naturally follows:

Why do millions of students still feel that school education alone is not enough?

Why has coaching become almost a necessity rather than an optional supplement?

If a child spends six to seven hours a day in school and still requires another four to six hours of coaching to remain competitive, should we not pause and ask:

• What exactly is the role of our schools?

• Are schools preparing students to understand concepts, or merely helping them complete the syllabus?

• Are teachers being given enough time, training, and resources to develop analytical and problem-solving skills?

• Have schools become institutions that focus primarily on board examination results rather than deep learning?

• Are students learning to think, question, and apply knowledge, or are they learning to memorise information for examinations?

Perhaps the question is not whether schools are failing. Many teachers work tirelessly under difficult conditions and with limited resources. Instead, the question is whether our education system has unintentionally created a gap between what schools teach and what competitive examinations demand.

If that gap exists, should we expect every family to bridge it through private coaching?

Or should the education system itself evolve so that a child who studies sincerely in school can compete confidently without depending on expensive external coaching?

After all, the purpose of school education is not merely to produce high board examination scores. It is to nurture curiosity, critical thinking, scientific reasoning, communication, problem-solving, and the confidence to learn independently.

Perhaps it should begin with a more fundamental question:

Education was never meant to create students who merely clear examinations. Its purpose is far greater. To nurture curiosity, reasoning, compassion, scientific thinking, independent learning.

If coaching has become indispensable for success in an examination based on the school syllabus, then perhaps the conversation should not stop at NEET.

It should begin with a more fundamental question:

Are we educating children for life or training them for examinations?

Because the doctors of tomorrow will need much more than the ability to remember facts. They will need to analyse complex situations, solve problems under pressure, communicate with patients, make ethical decisions, and continue learning throughout their careers. That journey should begin in the classroom, not only in the coaching centre.

When coaching becomes essential to succeed in an examination based on the school syllabus, we should not merely question the examination. We should also ask whether our schools are being given the support, resources, and freedom to fulfil the purpose for which they were created.

 A Seat Is Not Just Earned. It Must Also Be Affordable.

Even after securing a qualifying score, another challenge begins.

India has made significant progress by increasing the number of medical colleges and MBBS seats in recent years. Yet demand continues to far exceed supply.

Millions aspire. Only a fraction secure seats - In recent years, more than 23 lakh students have appeared for NEET, competing for roughly 1.2 lakh MBBS seats across government and private medical colleges. The scale of competition itself illustrates why every additional opportunity matters.

Government colleges remain highly competitive. Private medical education remains beyond the financial reach of many families. As a result, thousands of Indian students pursue medical education abroad every year, not necessarily because foreign education is better, but because it is sometimes more accessible or affordable than private medical colleges in India.

Perhaps the shortage of affordable seats deserves as much attention as the entrance examination itself.

Beyond Politics: A Constitutional Question

The debate around NEET is often presented as a political conflict. But beneath it lies a constitutional question. States are responsible for planning and delivering much of public healthcare.

They establish many government medical colleges.

They run teaching hospitals.

They understand local healthcare needs.

At the same time, Parliament has enacted laws to establish national standards for medical education and admissions.

This creates an important question for a federal democracy:

How should India balance national standards with the ability of states to address their own educational and healthcare realities?

Reasonable people may disagree on the answer.

But the question deserves thoughtful discussion rather than political slogans.

The Other Side of the Debate

A fair discussion must also acknowledge why many support NEET.

Supporters argue that a common entrance examination:

• creates a uniform national standard,

• reduces the burden of multiple entrance examinations,

• improves transparency,

• and limits arbitrary admissions.

These are legitimate goals.

India needs competent doctors. Patients deserve confidence in the quality of medical education. Standards matter. Transparency matters. Merit matters. The challenge is not choosing between merit and social justice.

The challenge is ensuring that one does not come at the cost of the other.

The Question We Should Really Be Asking

Perhaps we have spent years asking the wrong question.

Instead of asking,

"Should NEET exist?"

perhaps we should ask,

• Are government schools receiving the same quality of education?

• Why has coaching become almost essential for many aspirants?

• Can medical education become more affordable?

• Are enough government medical colleges being created?

• How do we ensure rural and underserved communities continue to produce doctors?

• How do we preserve excellence while expanding opportunity?

These questions are harder. But they are much more important.

Before We Celebrate the Rank List

Tomorrow another examination will begin. Millions of students will sharpen pencils, check admit cards, hug anxious parents, and walk into examination halls across India.

Inside those halls, every child will receive the same question paper.

Outside those halls, their journeys will still be different.

Some carried coaching notes.

Some carried hope.

Some carried confidence.

Some carried sacrifice.

Perhaps that is where India's real examination begins.

Not when the invigilator says,

"You may start writing."

But years earlier… inside classrooms, inside homes, inside villages, inside public policy, and inside every opportunity we choose to create for the next generation. Because a nation's greatest achievement is not producing toppers.

It is ensuring that every child, regardless of where they are born, has a genuine chance to become one.

Ending the blog, for now!

A nation is not judged only by the brilliance of its highest achievers. It is also judged by how many dreams it allows to rise from its smallest villages, poorest families, and most ordinary classrooms.

This article is not an argument against merit.

It is an argument for creating merit everywhere, without the cost of equality or social justice.

It is not an argument against examinations.

It is an argument for building equal opportunity before examinations.

Because justice does not begin inside the examination hall. It begins years earlier in the classroom, in the home, in the village, in the quality of a school, in the reach of a teacher, and in the opportunities a society chooses to provide.

Perhaps the real question before India is not whether NEET is fair, but whether every child has been given a fair chance long before NEET begins. Until quality education, academic support, and opportunity are distributed more equitably across income groups, regions, languages, and social backgrounds, governments must focus not only on conducting examinations but also on creating the conditions where merit can truly flourish. Only then will a national examination measure potential rather than privilege.

The question before India is therefore much larger than NEET. It is this:

Will we be remembered as a nation that tested talent, or as a nation that first gave every child a fair chance to discover it?

 Author's Note

This article does not argue that excellence should be compromised or that medical standards should be lowered. Rather, it invites readers to reflect on a broader question: How can India build a medical admission system that preserves high standards while ensuring that merit is shaped by opportunity rather than circumstance? The discussion draws on constitutional principles, publicly available reports, policy analyses, and multiple perspectives on one of India's most important educational debates.

References

• Constitution of India (Articles 14, 15, 21A, 41, and 46)

• Justice A.K. Rajan Committee Report (2021)

• National Medical Commission (NMC) statistics on MBBS seats and medical colleges

• Ministry of Health & Family Welfare publications

• National Education Policy (2020)

• IMPRI – Expansion and Challenges of Medical Education in India

• Relevant Supreme Court judgments on NEET and medical admissions