Finding your rhythm and making it work
I lived the dream that millions of Indian students aspire to.
I did my engineering in Computer Science from the top ranked college in India (IIT Guwahati).
You can figure this out from my profile.
What you can't, is that in college, I rarely went to class.
It wasn't because the college wasn't good. In fact, it was the best.
The professors were incredible, and my peers? Exceptional. I learned from both.
The problem was me.
Five minutes into any lecture, my mind would wander – completely detached from the blackboard.
And when it came back, the ship had sailed. The class was mid-way through and I could no longer connect the dots.
Most of my day spent in class remained unproductive. My grades tanked, my confidence shattered, and my peers rubbed it in.
By my second year, I decided to take things into my hands.
If my success requires me to focus, I'd change the rules of the game. The world should change to accommodate me. Or so I told myself.
Enter Abhijit Das. My college buddy, and the most resourceful entrepreneur I've ever met.
He loved going to class. But his real hidden talent? – he wrote beautifully. He could forge my signature better than I could.
So, we made a deal. Abhijit would proxy my signature in the class attendance sheet.
And I stopped attending classes altogether.
With my day freed up, I did what worked best for me.
I stayed in my room, reading books at my own pace. I'd read a page, dream about it for an hour, then come back and read another.
Strangely enough, this wandering, daydreaming style of learning worked.
My grades shot up.
Professors were baffled by the hockey stick my grade graph was showing. And my peers? They found their place.
But more importantly, I still had more time left. So I focused on doing what I loved: Nothing. Coding. And Basketball. In that order.
Years later, a meeting with the brilliant Hana Dayal, left me wondering if I had ADHD. As I learned more, I met more people who had ADHD.
Many of them struggle with it. And face failure. And rejection. Which takes its toll.
I do too.
Like when my good friend Neel Kamal asks me for a game of badminton, I try to weasel out.
I love the game and the exercise, but focusing on the game is a war waging inside my head.
Part of me wants to wander, maybe think about NonBioS, while the other wants to win the game.
The wandering mind wins, the badminton player loses. I take the rejection, and Neel doesn't shy away from rubbing it in.