A dream institute for me, and for many...
After the wait, names were being announced, and my ears were eagerly waiting…
maybe mine comes now… maybe next... the last one is mine…
But it wasn’t!
Those whose names weren’t called were asked to leave. The selected ones were to stay.
As people began walking toward the lift, I stayed seated—my heart still aching to fully accept it.
I walked to the coordinator and quietly asked in hope,
“Please tell me if Anmol is on the list?”
She checked and simply gestured.
That was my cue to walk out.
I returned to my seat—felt like all my energy was sucked out of me—picked up my bag and belongings, face down, trying to hold myself together.
I didn’t take the lift. I just… walked.
Four floors down, one heavy step at a time.
Could’ve counted the stairs, but my mind was busy with uneasy emotions.
I reached the ground floor and saw the guard sitting there with the registers.
I was supposed to sign the exit time, but the confidence I had while signing the entry time felt like a different version of me.
I couldn’t even bring myself to look for my name again.
Because I had written “interview” under the “purpose” section, with anticipation and excitement.
But I didn’t get it!
There was a written test before it, and it didn’t go in my favor. So no interview for me.
I walked out of the building. The sunlight was strong. My eyes needed time to adjust.
So I took a moment.
Just stood there, trying to sync with what I was feeling. A couple of deep breaths.
Still uneasy—but at least, in sync with my body.
I wasn’t okay, even after sharing with my close people.
All the voice messages, text messages, and calls I received...
They reminded me: this is a part of life. And I can do better next time.
Slowly, I braced myself.
Took it up.
Decided I’d work on things.
And to get there, it took me some time.
But then yesterday—
Someone asked me, “How was your interview?”
And I said:
“I wish it were a success. Though it became a lesson. So I am finding wisdom in that.” -Ambidextrous Anmol
