I Was a Failed Engineer and My Story Isn’t the Only One

It’s great to be an engineer. But let’s talk about those who couldn’t take the pressure this Engineer’s Day.

Neelima Bhamidipati
Lifestyle
Updated:
If I allowed a little free will, life would’ve been a different book today. 
i
If I allowed a little free will, life would’ve been a different book today. 
(Photo: iStock) 

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(It’s Engineers Day! This article is being republished from The Quint’s archives, originally published on 15 September 2015.)

‘IIT-B Student Commits Suicide due to Depression’

Haven’t we read this headline all too often? But to me, this news is personal. It doesn’t evoke shock or sadness or dismissal. I just know this situation all too well.

That engineering student who joined the course because his parents wanted him to… who didn’t do well and got flak at home, taunts and insults in college..had backlogs and made friends because they all wrote supplementary exams together...well, that was me.

Somewhere under the narrative of successful engineers making it big, lies buried a less unsung one — that of failed engineers... reluctant engineers.

Chapter 1: The Choice and its Shackles

There are signs at every point. Someone only needs to spot them. (Photo: iStockphoto)

I was 17 when I had to make the choice to study engineering. My father was living elsewhere for work and my mother couldn’t leave us in a boarding school so she stayed with us. He didn’t know a whole lot about my career preferences - we met only twice or thrice a year.

I remember the very first conversation when I softly uttered, “journalism”. He dismissed the idea on the face of it with a smile. There was no question of a discussion. My father is the alpha male in the family and no one goes against his will.

I meekly surrendered.

On the first day, I entered that wrought iron gate thinking that was the end of it.

Chapter 2: To Hell and Back

I wasn’t merit and I wasn’t pleasing them so I was being pushed around. (Photo: iStockphoto)

I got a seat through management quota, which means my father paid a considerable amount of money to secure it since my ranking wasn’t good enough. I wasn’t the only one. My college arranged extra classes for us before the actual classes began with the meritorious students - to educate us dimwits.

We found friends and others who couldn’t “fit in” also found their way to our group.

So things changed and it actually got better. Life didn’t suck.

2.1: The Black Phase

When I wasn’t bunking college this was what my world looked like. (Photo: iStockphoto)
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Then came the exams and then the results. That was a black day. Of course, I didn’t make it. And that changed a lot.

It was second year, I had entered the big apple.

My cell phone, which was for emergencies, was taken away. Hanging out with friends was out of the question. I was required to spend every waking minute with my books. By the way, no one cared if I was actually studying.

My professors were the worst, as expected. Lab viva sessions turned into interrogations. They would have fun at my expense and I put up with it because it was the path of least resistance. The predators would calm down and smile in seconds if I just said sorry. It didn’t matter for what and whether it was my fault.

If I was willing to suffer in silence, they’d let me live.

Chapter 3: The Water Under the Bridge is Icy Cold

I was dreading the thing most students looked forward to. (Photo: iStockphoto)

Then came the big one in my third year – campus interviews.

This was the ultimate test. Till now my parents had dodged questions about my studies in their social circle. But what would they do now?

I managed an interview and got a job with Wipro’s BPO. We were all relieved. My parents would just tell their friends that I got a job with Wipro and I didn’t actually have to join because it wasn’t a software company. I was 150% sure that if I’d made the cut, “the alpha male” would’ve stepped in and made another decision for me.

Now that I think about it I would’ve survived that. But through the four years, since I didn’t pay attention to classes, wasn’t the excessive bunking type, I stayed in class with a book under my table.

I kept at it, researched colleges and finally made it – out and alive, to a journalism school.

Chapter 4: Deliverance

After four excruciatingly long years, they will be free but if they’re not happy, you’re partly responsible. (Photo: iStock)

How did I get past that phase? Well, I knew it was going to be difficult. A part of me also believed that since I was a bad student I deserved that treatment. But I quickly pulled myself out of that trap. I realised that there was still time and I could do whatever I wanted with my life.

But to thousands of depressed students of engineering - let me tell you something. I’m writing not because I just want to mark Engineer’s Day. It’s because I want to talk to you — take this day to tell my story, and turn your faces to the light at the end of the tunnel.

I’m standing there and waiting for all of you to break the shackles and join me in proving a point. But most of all, I want you to join me so that together or not; we can do great things in our own little way (even outside an engineering college).

(At The Quint, we question everything. Play an active role in shaping our journalism by becoming a member today.)

Published: 06 May 2015,04:45 PM IST

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