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In this edition of As We Leave 2026, Pranjali Singh, a Y22 from the Department of Electrical Engineering, sits down with her first-year self one last time before locking the door to C519. Together, they revisit four years full of warmth, friendships that came and stayed, people who found their way back, and countless small moments that turned into the best parts of the story.
Disclaimer: The views presented below are the author’s own and are not in any manner representative of the views of Vox Populi as a body or IIT Kanpur in general. This is an informal account of the author’s experiences at IITK.
I met my first-year self recently, standing beside a half-packed suitcase.
Not literally, of course.
There was something about her that instantly took me back four years. Not because she looked exactly like I did when I first arrived at IITK. But because I recognized that feeling. The fear of uncertainty. The excitement. Unsure if she belonged here at all. The endless questions hidden beneath the confidence everyone pretends to have. She was at the beginning of a journey that would challenge her, shape her, and surprise her in ways she couldn’t yet imagine. I was standing at the end of one. And for a moment, it felt unfair to leave without telling her what I had lived and experienced.
So before I locked my room (C519) for the last time, I sat down beside her.
Past Pranjali:
So…how does it end? Do we figure everything out? Do we become the person we wanted to be?
Present Pranjali:
(laughs)
That’s a dangerous question.
Past Pranjali:
Why?
Present Pranjali:
Because almost none of the things you think will define these four years actually end up defining them. The people will. The conversations will. The disappointments will. The random hangouts after classes that seem forgettable at the time will. And strangely enough, some of the things you’ll want most won’t happen at all.
Past Pranjali:
That doesn’t sound very encouraging.
Present Pranjali:
I know. When you arrive here, you think college is about becoming someone. A researcher. A trader. An engineer. Someone with a very impressive LinkedIn and an uncanny ability of good time management.
Past Pranjali:
Please tell me we become one of those people who somehow have a 9 CPI, three PORs, a social life, and still sleep eight hours.
Present Pranjali:
I have some unfortunate news.
Past Pranjali:
That’s not the tone I was hoping for.
Present Pranjali:
The first thing IITK teaches you is humility. The second thing it teaches you is that the first lesson wasn’t enough.
Past Pranjali:
So is this a tragedy?
Present Pranjali:
Actually, no. That’s the surprising part. IITK feels less like an institute and more like a very stubborn mentor. Every time I became certain about something, it would quietly prove me wrong. Every time I thought I knew what I needed, it handed me something else entirely. And somehow, more often than not, it was right.
The Age of Newness
The beginning felt exciting. Terrifying. And exciting again. Everything was new. The campus. The people. The freedom. Even the version of myself I was trying to become. And surprisingly, for someone who had spent most of her life being quiet, I talked. A lot. I made friends. Spent winter nights outside hanging out and doing absolutely nothing. Discovered that wing conversations lasted till 6 am. Learned that deciding where to eat required more collective discussion than deciding what to study. Somewhere in all that chaos, people started becoming part of my story (Poojal, Kavy, Vasudha, Anushka). At the time, they were just friends I spent my days with. They became the people I now associate with an entire phase of my life. For a while, life felt simple. The days were full. The nights were longer. And IITK felt like one giant adventure waiting to happen.
Past Pranjali:
Now this sounds more like the college experience I imagined.
Present Pranjali:
Just wait. MTH111 quiz was loading.
Past Pranjali:
And right on cue, the initial dose of reality makes its appearance.
Present Pranjali:
Exactly. School had convinced me that studying one day before an exam was a perfectly reasonable strategy. MTH111 disagreed. Firmly. The first quiz arrived. Then the grades. Then reality. I finished my first semester with a 7.5 CPI. Not terrible. Not impressive. Just enough to remind me that college wasn’t school with bigger buildings.
It was my first lesson that college wasn’t about proving how much I already knew. It was about learning how much I still had left to learn.
The Shifting Ground
Past Pranjali:
So we immediately fixed everything in Semester 2?
Present Pranjali:
(Laughs)
You still think that’s how growth works. No. But I did learn something important. IITK wasn’t going to become easier. I was going to become different. Semester 2 looked better on paper. I studied. Academics improved. I finally started understanding that college wasn’t an extended school vacation with occasional exams attached.
Past Pranjali:
Good. So life was sorted?
Present Pranjali:
No. Just quieter. And sometimes the quiet phases teach you the most. Because while grades improved, something else was changing too. Friendships. The people I spent my days with. The people I thought would be constants.
When I first came to IITK, I assumed friendships worked the same way school friendships did. You meet your people. You stay together. The end. Turns out IITK had other ideas. Some friendships slowly became memories attached to particular semesters. Not because anything went wrong. Just because people grow. Schedules change. Lives move in different directions.
Past Pranjali:
That sounds sad.
Present Pranjali:
A little. At first. But then something beautiful happened. New people arrived (Nitika, Pubali, Anya, Aditi). And before I noticed it happening, they had quietly become part of my IITK story. I think that was the first time I understood something that would keep repeating throughout college: Not everything that leaves creates a void. Sometimes it creates space.
Past Pranjali:
Fair enough. What about Student Guide? I remember wanting that.
Present Pranjali:
I remember too. I wanted to become a Student Guide because I remembered exactly how lost I felt when I arrived. I thought becoming an SG would mean I had finally become the person I wanted to be. Someone who could help another student feel less alone. Someone who could make IITK feel smaller and kinder for somebody else. I didn’t clear the interview.
Past Pranjali:
Ouch.
Present Pranjali:
Yeah. It stung. Mostly because I couldn’t understand why I wanted it so badly. At the time, it felt like a door closing. I think it was IITK doing what IITK does best. Redirecting me. At the time, it felt like a closed door. Years later, I would realize it was simply an unfinished story.
Past Pranjali:
So basically IITK enjoys being cryptic for no reason.
Present Pranjali:
Honestly? More like that teacher who never gives you the answer but somehow expects you to learn the lesson anyway.
Past Pranjali:
And did we?
Present Pranjali:
Eventually. Just not in the way either of us expected.
I understood belonging isn’t a place you arrive at once and stay forever. It’s something that keeps changing shape as you do.
By this point, I had learned a lot about belonging. Direction, however, was still a work in progress.
In Search of Direction
Past Pranjali:
And then? Did we finally figure things out?
Present Pranjali:
You really overestimate how quickly people figure things out.
Past Pranjali:
Please tell me this semester was productive.
Present Pranjali:
Depends on how we define productive. I slept a lot. Skipped classes. Questioned life. Repeated the cycle. It wasn’t a dramatic semester. Just one of those phases where everyone around you seems to be moving forward while you’re trying to remember what day of the week it is. At the time, it felt like wasted time.
Past Pranjali:
So we’re allowed to have semesters like that?
Present Pranjali:
It didn’t feel allowed at the time. But looking back, I think I needed that phase. It taught me that your worth doesn’t disappear just because your momentum does. And somewhere amidst all that confusion, I started looking for direction. I explored consulting. Mostly because everyone seemed to have a direction, and consulting sounded like one.
I wanted to contribute somewhere. Build something. Find my place. I also wanted to become a secretary in ICG. That didn’t happen either. But IITK had a habit of closing one door and quietly leaving a window open somewhere nearby. I got the opportunity to work on a Product Market Entry Strategy project with Ishan, Parv, and Ayush. And somewhere between brainstorming sessions, discussions that seemed simple until they weren’t, and trying to make sense of messy ideas, I found something I had been looking for all semester: direction. I don’t remember being disappointed for very long. I remember the people. I remember the conversations. I remember learning. And maybe that’s when IITK started teaching me its favourite lesson:
The things you want and the things you need are not always the same thing.
Before the Storm
Past Pranjali:
So after all the confusion and existential crises… did we finally start acting like a responsible adult?
Present Pranjali:
Against all available evidence, yes. Somewhere around then, things started moving again steadily. A little more focus. A lot more academics. Because internship season was approaching and for what felt like the first time, CPI stopped being just a number and started feeling like a responsibility. I was chasing improvement. Trying to give myself the best chance possible before the next big milestone arrived. And strangely enough, that semester taught me that progress is often much less exciting than motivation speeches make it sound. Most days looked ordinary. But ordinary days have a habit of adding up.
Past Pranjali:
That sounds suspiciously mature.
Present Pranjali:
Haha! Around the same time, I realized academics alone weren’t enough. I wanted to build things, work with people, and be part of something that would outlast a semester’s grades. That’s when Product Club entered my life.
The funny part? I wasn’t even fully sure where I fit.
Past Pranjali:
Then how did you end up in Product Club?
Present Pranjali:
Accidentally. Or maybe exactly the way I was supposed to. I had some initial sense of product and curiosity towards Product Management. At the time, I didn’t know how important they would become. Or how much Product Club would eventually shape my IITK experience. I met seniors like Utkarsh, Rutvik, and Nishita. People who somehow made learning & growing feel exciting instead of intimidating.
I spent that semester trying to prepare for every opportunity I could imagine. What I wasn’t prepared for was how much I would learn from the ones I didn’t get.
The Tempest
Past Pranjali:
Why do I feel like you’re about to tell me something went horribly wrong?
Present Pranjali:
I prefer the term “character-building experience.”
Past Pranjali:
That’s usually what people call disasters afterwards.
Present Pranjali:
Fair point. If IITK were a person, this would be the part where it folded its arms, smiled politely, and said: “Let’s see what you’ve learned so far.” I stayed on campus that entire summer. Partly for a research project. Partly for a course I had taken in the hope that a few extra decimal points on my CPI might open one more door during internship season. The campus felt different in the summer. Quieter. Hotter. A little emptier. And somehow, lonelier. Summer felt strange. Competitive on the outside. Lonely on the inside. Everyone was preparing for internships. Everyone seemed to have a plan. I thought I had one too. For a long time, I had convinced myself consulting was the path I was meant to take. To be safe, I had prepared for SDE roles as well. But when it mattered most, I gave those last twenty days entirely to consulting preparation. Then internship season arrived. Case prep. Mock interviews. Shortlists. Waiting. Rejection. More waiting.
My first rejection came at 8 a.m. on Day 1 from Bain – my only consulting shortlist. And then came ten very long days. Ten days of interviews. Ten days of rejections. Ten days of watching opportunities disappear. Ten days of rebuilding hope every morning after losing it the previous night. Honestly, I never thought I would still be sitting there on Day 10.
Past Pranjali:
So what happened?
Present Pranjali:
I received an offer from NVIDIA as a System Software Engineer. And strangely enough, I was happy. Not just relieved. Happy. Because somewhere during those ten days, I realized something important. Consulting was never really the life I wanted. It was just the life I thought I was supposed to want. For the first time in a very long while, life felt less like a competition I was losing and more like a story slowly making sense in its own way.
But the bigger reward was realizing this:
Not getting what you want doesn’t always mean something went wrong.
Sometimes it means life is quietly taking you somewhere that fits you better, even while you’re busy mourning the plans that didn’t work out.
And sometimes the detour turns out to be the destination.
The Turning Tide
Past Pranjali:
So after internship season, life finally became peaceful?
Present Pranjali:
Let’s not get carried away. But yes, Semester 5 felt lighter. Not because life became easier. But because I had stopped fighting it quite so much. Product Club became a much bigger part of my life. I worked alongside Nishant, Varad, and Keerthi. I got to know juniors like Mahi, Nakul, Sanket, Vinayak, and Mukund. And somewhere between organising events, discussing products, mentoring juniors, watching them grow, and spending an unreasonable amount of time debating ideas, something finally clicked.
Past Pranjali:
What?
Present Pranjali:
Remember how badly you wanted to become a Student Guide?
Past Pranjali:
Of course.
Present Pranjali:
Turns out, what I wanted wasn’t the title. It was the chance to help someone the way seniors had once helped me. And somewhere between mentoring juniors and working alongside them, Product Club gave me exactly that.
Past Pranjali:
IITK really enjoys doing that, doesn’t it?
Present Pranjali:
Constantly. The Product Casebook was another example. One small dream I had always carried was to create something meaningful enough to outlive a semester. That never happened. Instead, we built the Product Casebook. And watching ideas slowly turn into something real – something people could actually learn from felt surprisingly special. Not because it was flashy. But because it mattered. Because it was ours. And for the second time in a year, IITK handed me something I didn’t ask for and somehow gave me exactly what I needed.
I don’t remember the opportunities I missed nearly as clearly as I remember the people who showed up because of them. Maybe that’s why some memories stay.
The last three semesters feel different in my memory. Not because less happened. But because I had finally stopped treating every semester as a problem that needed solving.
The Calm After
Past Pranjali:
Wait. That’s it? No major crisis? No identity crisis? No dramatic plot twist?
Present Pranjali:
Not really. And strangely enough, that became one of my favourite parts of college. The uncertainty that had occupied so much space in my head for years slowly disappeared. For the first time in a long time, I wasn’t constantly chasing the next thing. I could simply be where I was.
Past Pranjali:
That sounds peaceful.
Present Pranjali:
It was. And I don’t think I appreciated it enough at the time. Semesters 6, 7, and 8 weren’t defined by milestones. They were defined by moments. Spending time with people without constantly worrying about what came next.
The funny thing about college is that while you’re living it, every semester feels important. Most of what remains isn’t. What remains are the people.The wing corridors. The late-night discussions. The fest nights. The comfort of knowing exactly where your friends would be at 1 AM. The feeling that this place had quietly become home.
Semester 8, especially, felt like a season of simply living. No applications. No constant countdown to the next milestone. There were Goa trips, parties, hangouts, countless days spent doing absolutely nothing with people I genuinely enjoyed being around, saying yes to all plans, and trying to make the most of a place I suddenly realized I was about to leave.
Reflecting on it now, IITK feels less like an institute and more like an old train journey. Not the kind that takes you directly where you think you’re going.The kind that keeps stopping at unexpected stations. The kind that takes detours, long routes, and occasional U-turns. The kind that makes you question whether you’re even on the right train anymore.
But somewhere along the way, you meet people who become part of the story. You collect conversations. Memories. Versions of yourself. And when the journey finally ends, you realize something surprising. You arrived exactly where you needed to be. Just not by the route you expected.
I don’t think IITK gave me most of the things I wanted. It gave me the people, experiences, and detours that helped me become someone capable of wanting better things.
Exactly Where I Needed To Be
Past Pranjali:
So… this isn’t the life we had wanted?
Present Pranjali:
No. Not entirely. But somewhere along the way, I stopped measuring my college experience by the things that didn’t happen and started appreciating everything that did.
Past Pranjali:
So if you could tell me one thing before I enter IITK, what would it be?
Present Pranjali:
I’d tell you not to hold your expectations so tightly. Some of it will happen. A lot of it won’t. You will lose people you thought would stay. You will find people you never expected. You will miss opportunities you desperately wanted. You will receive opportunities you never thought to ask for. You will spend years trying to become the person you imagined. And somewhere along the way, you will become someone else entirely. And one day, when it’s time to leave, you’ll realize that was never the tragedy.That was the point. IITK never really gave us the map. It just kept nudging us toward the next station.
The life that happened instead turned out to be a pretty good one.
She smiled. And somehow, I think that was the answer she had been looking for all along. I picked up the last box and looked around C519 one final time. The room was almost empty now. The echo was different. For four years, there had always been something: a conversation, a notification, a friend dropping by, a deadline waiting, a reason not to sleep. Now there was just silence.
Four years of conversations, failures, friendships, ambitions, late-night walks, impossible deadlines, unexpected victories, and countless versions of myself had somehow been reduced to a few packed suitcases.
And then it hit me. Before I locked C519, I thought I was leaving IITK. What I didn’t realize was that IITK had already made sure a part of it would leave with me. So I locked the door behind me and walked away.
Not with the life I had imagined four years ago. But with one I wouldn’t trade for it.
Written by: Pranjali Singh
Edited by: Gauri Singh, Lavanya Srivastava
