17th Nov 2025

• 
  “Are you sure you’ve never felt guilty about anything in your life?” a fan of me asked.
• “Why would I?” I replied without hesitation.
• “I never had guidance to begin with.” I continued
• 
  
• Flashback
• I was once the studious kid who dreamt of becoming a scientist because I loved building things out of scrap.
• Later, I became that book-obsessed teenager who believed research was my destiny.
• Then chemistry fascinated me enough to imagine myself doing research in it—especially after learning about psoriasis. I genuinely wanted to work on its treatment, but by the time I understood what choosing bio actually meant, it was too late. I realised importance of JEE and NEET even later.
• 
  
• College followed. I started writing review articles on Quantum Dots.
• And then, it all started feeling empty and boring.
• 
  
• My research teammates disappeared one by one. The professor I had approached never asked me to continue. And my only friend, Sanskar, drifted without a goal—like most people there, honestly. Their only aim was to pass time on their parents’ money.
• 
  
• Meanwhile, I was riding a second-hand bicycle to college, teaching tuitions, freelancing whatever I could, scraping together enough to pay my fees.
• I didn’t even know scholarships existed—free ones at that.
• 
  
• How far can an introvert go without guidance?
• 
  
• The Downfall
• Eventually, I chose freelancing—computers instead of chemistry. Survival pays better than passion when passion leads nowhere. Chemistry had the beauty of uncertainty, but uncertainty doesn’t pay rent.
• 
  
• I appeared for CUET PG but never checked cutoffs. Instead, I took admission in MCA at IGNOU.
• Neha, on the other hand, took a gap year for JAM and walked into IIT Gandhinagar.
• 
  
• I thought of giving CUET PG another shot but missed the exam day. I hadn’t prepared anyway.
• Instead, I was studying for government exams I never cared about. My parents wanted it, but they never told me which exam. So I blindly studied history, civics—humanities. Now I don’t hate them anymore.
• 
  
• “Bro, you’re overqualified for these exams” Lalit said, with that sarcastic smile that tells the truth no one wants to hear.
• 
  
• I was overwhelmed, multitasking life on autopilot. Someone suggested ITI. I joined.
• And I chose stenography. Nothing seemed better, specially after knowing Alamara learned almost nothing in COPA.
• 
  
• Good experience for some people. A complete waste of time for me. Corrupt teachers can’t teach life lessons, and ITI was never meant for someone like me.
• 
  
• ⸻
• 
  
• “Are you sure?” my colleague, Karan, pressed again.
• “Yep…” I closed the topic.
• 
  
• It was our lunch break in the park near NCCB, a BPO made just for survival. According to him, everyone talked nonsense except me.
• 
  
• I still remember how I ended up joining NCCB during my last days of ITI.
• “So, Ravi, what about you?” Monika asked.
• “My plan? I’ll join the company where my ex works,” I said casually.
• “I’ll join too. What job is it?”
• “It’s a call centre at Janakpuri.”
• Her excitement evaporated instantly.
• “At least it’s better than what ITI offers,” I added.
• Everyone laughed at the fact.
• 
  
• Unfortunately, my ex left the company right before I joined. So all the plans I made with Bilal fell apart before they could begin.
• 
  
• NCCB was great—for people like Bilal, who got a fixed salary despite barely working.
• For me? No learning- no growth.
• Policies changed overnight. The manager’s behaviour flipped every week. Even holidays were snatched away.
• 
  
• I was one of their best employees—20/20 scores, every test cleared.
• But they were never the employer I needed.
• 
  
• They are very strict about leave policy. So strict that they even won’t give you the leaves granted to you as per the policy. Of course, I had photos of all policy pages where I signed.
• 
  
• One day, the team leader was not listening. So, I didn’t ask more and left the office 1hr before. TL didn’t notice.
• But just outside the office,
• 
  
• “Are you taking early today?” Manager asked on his scooty, his face covered like an assassin.
• “Yes…” I didn’t explain and quickly turned my back.
• | Early - a policy term, tells you can go home 1 hour before the office timing, once a month. |
• 
  
• Then next day,
• TL: “Ravi can you come here”
• I arrived at his desk.
• Manager: “You are the one who took early yesterday. Right?”
• TL: “Who did you ask?”
• Ravi: “I asked, but you didn’t listen. Also I have the right as per the policy.”
• Manager: “Do we have that?”
• TL: “Yes…”
• Manager: “Ok, so you will not ask for permission? You also come late, go early. Is it your home?”
• Manager: “Observe this guy for a week, if he changes then good else we have to fire him.”
• 
  
• They didn’t know I had plans to abscond in few days. My colleagues knew my plans as well.
• 
  
• Plans
• First, I appeared in IGT — another MNC in Gurgaon, referred by Naukri App.
• 
  
• Bhawna, the quiet girl from FEA, offered to refer me to Concentrix. So I declined IGT.
• But of course, it wasn’t that simple.
• 
  
• I had cleared IGT’s interview. They offered 18k in hand, plus one-side cab, and wanted immediate joining.
• But one week later, NCCB was supposed to pay me my first salary.
• 
  
• And how much?
• They were going to give me ₹1,500.
• 
  
• And I chose to stay.
• 
  
• Yes. I traded future ₹18,000 salaries for ₹1,500.
• 
  
• Absolutely laughable.
• But that’s what happens when life corners you into bad choices.
• 
  
• IGT was still an option, but I placed my hopes on Concentrix.
• 
  
• Still not simple.
• 
  
• I cleared AMCAT at home.
• Cleared AMCAT again at a consultancy in Tilak Nagar.
• It was my third attempt, counting the time I cleared everything earlier—including Versant—but got stuck at the interview stage a year ago.
• 
  
• Flashback
• “Will you need leaves if you join?” the interviewer asked.
• “Not many. Just exam leave for my eight upcoming exams next month,” I answered honestly.
• Next day:
• “Sorry, Ravi. Your response is recorded. Come after your exams.” the consultant said.
• 
  
• ⸻
• 
  
• But this time I had no exams.
• They told me to wait for the Versant mail.
• I’m still waiting.
• 
  
• Meanwhile, random HRs kept calling.
• 
  
• “Sir, I’m calling from Concentrix…”
• “Ma’am, can you please check with Shailza ma’am regarding my Versant mail? I still haven’t received it.”
• Awkward silence.
• Then click. Call ended.
• 
  
• At that point, I wondered if they were joking. Calling me for a job but not letting me in.
• 
  
• I kept applying—Naukri, Internshala, messaging people—nothing felt real.
• 
  
• Then out of nowhere, a WhatsApp message popped up.
• 
  
• “Hey Ravi, one of my seniors has a startup and he’s looking for an intern. You probably know him,” Raghav said in a voice note.
• 
  
• I did know him. A sharp mind, talkative, someone I used to ignore for talking too much—but at least he talked about technology.
• 
  
• I met him. Somehow earned his trust.
• Still searching for jobs, but finally walking in the right direction.
• 
  
• And now, if you visit LinkedIn you’ll see:
• 
  
• Robotics Software Engineer @ SudoYantra
• 
  
• Edit:
• I actually ended up doing wiring, moving equipment, working from home, and occasionally giving up on code.
• Waiting for offer letter :/