It felt like this time could be different. But like many times before, fate had a different plan. As always, the biggest hurdle wasn’t the company or the panel—it was the fear inside me. The dreaded DSA round loomed over me.
Amidst this pressure, I had to rush to Jaipur for my brother’s college admission—just two days before the interview. It ate up my time, my energy, and a big chunk of my mental focus. But I didn’t blame that. I’ve come to accept that if something isn’t meant to be yet, it won’t happen—no matter how prepared I am.
The interview day started with chaos. I couldn’t get an auto and ended up on a stranger’s bike, navigating an unknown route while reading maps with one hand and praying I wouldn’t be late. Thankfully, I made it on time.
After an hour of waiting, the programming round began. I gave it my best, and to my relief, I cleared it. For a moment, that crushing fear lifted.
But the real challenge began with the technical round. I hadn’t prepared well for it, too consumed by the DSA pressure. The interviewer began with a dismissive attitude, repeatedly telling me not to list too many technologies on my resume.
He asked about topics like Random Forest, SIM, etc. I answered confidently, but strangely, he kept cross-verifying my responses using ChatGPT on a side laptop. That felt... odd. He seemed dissatisfied with every explanation I gave.
Then he looked at my projects—something I’d put my heart into—and brushed them off: *“Anyone could build this in childhood.”* That one line stung. At that moment, I knew his decision was already made. He seemed annoyed by my AI/ML-oriented resume and ended the interview shortly after.
Just 10 minutes later, HR informed me: *“Your profile is not shortlisted.”*
This rejection hurt differently. I had traveled, put in effort, time, and hope—only to return empty-handed again.
But life has its own strange way of healing you. As I took a cab to the bus stand, the driver, of all people, turned out to be incredibly wise and kind. He spoke about startups, shared his experiences, and told me something that stuck with me:
"Start small. Don’t wait for the big break. Just start somewhere."
That conversation lifted my mood more than anything else that day. I don’t know if he was just a kind soul or some kind of angel sent by the universe—but he helped me reignite the fire I thought I lost in that interview room.
This isn’t just about one rejection. It’s about learning to cope, again and again. It’s about standing up when you feel the weight of every “No” you’ve ever heard.
If you’re reading this and feeling lost after yet another failure—just know you’re not alone. We’re all carrying silent battles. But we keep moving forward. One interview, one hope, one new chance at a time.
Rejection doesn’t mean you’re not good enough. It just means there’s something else waiting—and maybe, something better.