Public speaking wasn’t just outside my comfort zone. It was a space I quietly avoided. So, when I was invited to address students at one of Delhi’s top schools about my book, writing journey, and the power of words, I should have hesitated. But I didn’t.
I found myself looking forward to it. Why?
It could be because it was a chance to speak directly to young minds, to share something that could shape their early paths. It felt personal. Writing changed my life. It could light a spark in someone else, too.
That morning, I stood before a thousand students in a packed auditorium. And something shifted.
I Asked A Simple Question
“How many of you already know what you want to be when you grow up?”
About 60% raised their hands.
I turned to the rest—the 40% who stayed still.
And I told them:
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Don’t feel left behind.
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Don’t let anyone tell you you’re late.
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Not having the answers is okay.
I shared how my career plans shifted multiple times and how I ended up in my profession by accident. That unpredictability isn’t a flaw—it’s the thrill of the journey.
I spoke about self-publishing—its freedoms, its trade-offs. And more importantly, why everyone—especially young people—should try writing. Not to be read, but to discover themselves.
The Questions That Followed
They weren’t casual. They were thoughtful, honest, and full of curiosity.
“What does it take to be an author?”
“Were you scared of being judged?”
“Can writing be a real career?”
“What was your biggest challenge?”
“Would you self-publish again?”
Time ran out before curiosity did.
The Principal invited those still waiting to ask their questions to join us afterwards in her office. Eight students participated; each had something personal and purposeful to ask.
The Moment That Stayed With Me
One girl, soft-spoken and sincere, said: “You began your address by asking us if we know what we want to be when we grow up. I don’t know yet what I’ll grow up to do in life… but I know I want to be a good human.”
That got me.
I told her I wished I had that clarity at her age. Because in the end, it’s not about becoming someone. It’s about being someone—kind, grounded, curious, and open to life.
What I Took Away (And You Can, Too)
How did I get over my discomfort while addressing a packed auditorium?
My discomfort with the spotlight faded the moment I stopped trying to “deliver a speech” and started having a conversation. With them. For them. As one of them. Sometimes, the stage we stay away from is the one we’re meant to stand on. Because on the other side of discomfort is not applause. It’s connection.
And if you’re lucky, a quiet moment with a schoolgirl who reminds you what really matters.
About Me
I am a thinker at all times. I see, I think. I hear, I think. I read, I think. Every weekend I write. I would love to know what you think.