Product Unmuted

I didn’t do well in high school and ended up in a college that wasn’t exactly highly regarded. I was mad at everyone — the college, the teachers, the administrators. I even organized a silent protest to voice my displeasure! I acted up and gave my professors a hard time.

Bear in mind, I went to a girls’ college in southern India — and in my generation, girls didn’t do things like that. We complied. We followed rules. But I was frustrated and rebellious, convinced I had landed in the wrong place.

Then, sometime in my third year of engineering, something shifted. It suddenly hit me — I could complain all I wanted, but when graduation came, I’d be the one without a job or prospects. No one else was going to fix that for me.

So I decided to make it my problem.

We didn’t have companies coming to our campus for recruitment, so I started a placement cell with a few friends. We designed flyers, wrote letters, and mailed packets to companies. When that didn’t get a response, we started cold-calling — and eventually, walking right up to the gates of software companies to invite them to visit our college.

Most turned us away. We’d walk up to the security guard, explain who we were, and ask to speak with the head of HR. Some guards were kind and took our materials. Others dismissed us before we could even finish our sentence. But we kept going.

Until one day at TCS, a senior executive noticed us outside the building and called us in. He listened to our story. He told us they couldn’t come to our college that year, but before we left, he handed us his card. “Email me when you graduate,” he said. “I think we’ll have a job for you.”

That moment stayed with me — not because of the outcome, but because of what it represented. It was the first time I truly understood what accountability means. No one had asked me to do it. No one had promised to help. But once I saw the problem, I couldn’t ignore it.

We kept pushing, and by the time our batch graduated, we had a handful of companies come to our college that year — for the first time ever. Even more rewarding, companies like TCS started doing joint placement drives that included colleges like mine. I graduated with a job in hand from the very first company that came to our college for recruitment.

That experience shaped me in ways I didn’t fully understand at the time. I didn’t set out to lead — I just wanted a job. But somewhere along the way, I realized that leadership isn’t about having all the answers. It’s about being willing to take responsibility when something isn’t working, even if it’s not your fault.

Accountability isn’t about waiting for permission or expecting someone else to step in. It’s about recognizing that your future is yours to shape. The moment I stopped blaming the system and started taking action, everything changed. I didn’t have the perfect college, the best resources, or a guaranteed path — but I had the power to do something about it.

I’ve carried that lesson with me ever since. In every role, every team, every challenge — I’ve tried to show up with that same mindset: If I see a problem, I own it.

It’s not always easy. Sometimes it means making tough calls, sometimes it means standing alone. But I’ve learned that real change starts when you stop waiting for someone else to fix things and start asking, What can I do?

That’s how I lead. That’s how I build. That’s how I grow.

Because at the end of the day — the buck stops with me.