Until God Tells Me to Stop
The other night, I was sitting in a bar with a few close friends—classmates from ISB. Over single malts and a bowl of roasted peanuts, we laughed about the year gone by. It had been… a lot. Twelve months of intense academic rigour, 8 a.m. classes, 2 a.m. submissions, cold calls that hit harder than caffeine, and that beautiful mess of group projects, parties, and personal growth. Somewhere between late-night debriefs and spontaneous dance floors, I began to reinvent myself . Again. But reinvention isn’t new to me. I was 13, overweight, and struggling to keep up at Rashtriya Indian Military College , a world where physical endurance and mental grit were non-negotiable. I still remember gasping for breath on long runs, trying to hide my wheezing from the seniors, but I kept going. Then came the National Defence Academy , where I pushed myself through brutal cross-country runs, each a test of will more than stamina. I wasn't fast—but I was stubborn. I kept showing up, one ...