After the golden phase of training period, it was finally time to step into the real world.
For my Business Unit (BU) deployment, I had a companion—my friend. We both reported to the MEPZ office in Tambaram, Chennai, for the interview. Little did I know that this moment would introduce me to the second most important person in my professional journey—someone who would go on to play a pivotal role in shaping my IT career.
The first, of course, was the person who recruited me. My only regret today is that I never made the effort to learn his name. Yet, in a strange and meaningful way, we share a unique bond: the bond between a candidate and the person who opened the first door.
The Kutty Story: The Struggle Before the Success
Let’s rewind to April–May 2010. I had just graduated with no campus placements. Despite being a Computer Science graduate with a genuine interest in coding, I lacked the technical depth to crack an interview.
I decided to take action. I joined a course at NIIT (a whopping ₹30K investment—my first real lesson in the value of money). The center was in T. Nagar, about 50 km from my home. Thus began a grueling routine:
7:00 AM: Leave home.
Transit: Board an MMTS at Chengalpattu, get down at Mambalam.
9:00 AM – 1:00 PM: Classes (OOPS, C#, SQL, ASP.NET).
Afternoon: Lunch, return journey, and apply for off-campus drives.
While my technical skills in SQL and C# improved, my aptitude skills lagged behind. I watched friends travel to Salem for drives and get placed, while I sat with a growing sense of FOMO. Five months passed in a blur of trains, classes, and rejections.
The Turning Point
My first glimmer of hope came via a company called OFS. I made it to the HR round but was rejected. Still, it was progress—I had finally cleared an aptitude round!
Shortly after, a friend referred me to a logistics company (Flextronics, I believe). I cleared three rounds and was offered a job as a SQL Developer. The catch? A two-year bond. I hesitated, consulted my parents, and eventually declined. But that offer letter was the confidence booster I desperately needed. I realized I did have talent.
Then came the big leagues: Off-campus drives for HCL and Cognizant.
HCL was a long day with no immediate results. Cognizant, however, was a two-day process starting with an aptitude test at a school campus. I cleared it. Then came the technical round where I was asked two things:
“What will you do for society if you get a job?” (My answer: Build a home for my family first, then help society.)
“Write a program for a calculator.”
I cleared that too.
The Man in the White Shirt
The final hurdle was the HR discussion. This is where I met him—the first person to make a lasting impact on my career. A middle-aged man in a spotless white shirt tucked into black trousers.
I still remember his smiling face and our firm handshake. He asked about my inspiration. I didn’t name a tech mogul; I named Sachin Tendulkar and A.R. Rahman for their humility. The interview went smoothly.
Then, the waiting game began.
The Emotional Rollercoaster
Fun Fact: Back then, we relied on button phones. To ensure I didn’t miss a recruitment email while traveling, I had set up a Gmail filter to forward email subjects as SMS alerts to my phone. It was a patchy system, but it was my lifeline.
I went to the HCL and Cognizant offices in person to check my status—naively thinking I could just walk into a corporate office. I was turned away at Guindy and Sholinganallur. Defeated, I headed home.
On the train back to Tambaram, my phone buzzed. An SMS alert: Email from Cognizant.
I rushed to an internet café. My hands trembled as I opened it.
"Congratulations."
It was the moment I had longed for over six months.
But my happiness was short-lived. Moments later, I saw a second email: "Not Selected."
I was crushed. I went home and told no one.
The Twist of Fate
Despite the rejection email, I decided to take a chance. I printed both emails and went to the MEPZ office. To my surprise, they let me in. I was directed to the HR floor.
And guess who I met there?
The same man in the white shirt.
We recognized each other instantly. He checked the records, confirmed the rejection email was an error, and told me I was indeed selected. That man, whose name I never learned, is the reason I got my first IT job.
Strangely, our paths continued to cross at every major milestone in my life—my first promotion, my first award, after my marriage, and even right before I left the organization. We would meet once every two or four years, exchange the same firm handshake, smile, and part ways.
Survival of the Fittest: My First Project
Deployment day arrived. My friend and I were split up. I was assigned to a small team of three who, frankly, didn’t seem to know what to do with me.
For a month, my routine was: Reach office at 10 AM -> Browse courses -> Lunch -> Leave at 6 PM.
Finally, my manager gave me a task: Create a DLL.
I had no idea how to do it. But I Googled, learned, and delivered it quickly. Impressed, they started giving me sporadic tasks. But I was mostly free.
The Spark:
One of our team rituals was sending a daily "Insurance Concept" email to the account. When it was my turn, I didn't just copy-paste. I redesigned the template, added colors, and made it visually appealing—simply because I had the time.
My manager loved it. They asked me to convert it to HTML, which I did with help from seniors. That small initiative opened a door. I was suddenly pulled into designing an internal review portal, working directly with the Associate Director. I was learning to code, building UI, and gearing up for my first production move.
The Realization: The Manager Who Saw a Coder
If I look back, these 5 to 6 months were defined by one person’s belief in me.
I have to give full credit to my manager. When I was a fresh-faced trainee content with just redesigning an email template, he saw a developer in me before I even saw it in myself. He didn't just treat me like a "resource" that needed to be kept busy; he treated me like a talent that needed to be shaped.
By entrusting a raw fresher with the development of an internal portal and guiding me through the backend logic, he pushed me from "I know HTML" to "I can write C#." He didn't just give me tasks; he gave me the confidence that I belonged in this industry.
Those months made me realize that I could do more than just survive—I could build. Because of his mentorship, I learned how to code for the real world and moved miles ahead of my peers with the same experience level.
Though I was eventually released from the account (more on that later :P), the foundation he built remained.
Lesson Learned:
Learning is a process; applying it is a skill.
Don't just complete the work. Look for the value-add. Redesign that email template. Automate that boring task. It is the value-adds that make a manager believe in you—and that belief is what opens the next door.
What’s Next? & Your Turn
Being "released" sounded like a rejection at the time, but in the corporate world, it was just a transfer ticket to the next adventure. I survived the recruitment, I survived the bench, and I survived my first release. But the real technical grind was just getting started.
In Chapter 3, I’ll share how I landed in a new account that forced me to grow up fast—and the specific coding disasters that made me the professional I am today.
But before we move on, I want to turn the spotlight to you.
We all have a "White Shirt Man" or a believing manager in our story—someone who changed the trajectory of our career simply by saying "Yes" when others said "No." They are the ones who saw potential in us when we were just nervous freshers with empty resumes.
Who was your impact person?
Who opened that first door for you? Who taught you your first line of code or stood by you when you made your first big mistake?
I would love to read a small tribute to them in the comments below. Let’s celebrate the people who made us.
Stay tuned to Zakapedia—the code is about to get messy.
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