(“I” in this story is only symbolic — with small variations, this is the story of many. Please read it as an experience, not as self-praise.)
My father retired when I was in 9th standard. With four elder sisters and father being primary-teacher supporting a joint family, money was always tight. And when your finances are weak, the world treats you differently.
I still remember a relative choosing to stay at my aunt’s “better” house instead of ours. Small incident for them, but a quiet wound for me. Those moments created both scars and ambition.
Because of our situation, I chose a government engineering college. Not out of lack of ability — but because practicality was the only option.
At 21–22, I got into Infosys with a salary of ₹16,000+ (gold was ₹4,400 per 10g then). For the first time, I felt a way out. At 23–24, I reached the US — a completely different world for someone who grew up calculating every rupee.
Recently a friend asked,
“You lived alone in Pune and then in the US… Why didn’t you enjoy life — parties, luxury, all of that?”
My answer was simple:
“I was walking on a rope with a long bamboo in my hand.” On one side were the scars of struggle and disrespect. On the other side were the aspirations to lift my family.
That bamboo (responsibilities and aspirations) — that balance — shaped every choice I made.
This isn’t a success story. It’s just the truth of how many of us grew up:
“The bamboo isn’t a burden. It’s what keeps you balanced on the rope.”
In life, too, the things we think are weighing us down — our struggles, responsibilities, and early hardships — often become the exact forces that help us stay steady and move forward.
First published on LinkedIn.