I Found My Fire

Thrissur has a habit of deciding things for you.

The road goes round and round, Swaraj Round, whether you like it or not.
Buses come whether you are ready or not.
And families decide your future long before you have finished your morning tea.

I grew up in a middle-income Christian family where education was sacred. My father, George, believed a degree could protect you from every storm in life. My mother, Annie, believed discipline could protect you from everything else. My elder sister, Anita, was proof that both of them were right.

Then there was me.

I didn’t hate studying.
I hated studying things that refused to stay in my head.

Entrance Coaching: The First Warning Sign

My engineering journey began at 4:45 a.m.

Not because I was hardworking.
Because the entrance coaching bus didn’t care about feelings.

Thrissur was still asleep when I stepped out. The street dogs looked at me with sympathy. Even they felt this was unnecessary.

Inside the coaching centre near Shakthan Stand, boys sat like prisoners waiting for release. The teacher wrote equations so fast that even the board looked confused.

“Idokke simple aanu,” he said confidently.

Yes. Simple.
Like brain surgery.

I copied everything faithfully. I memorised formulas like prayers, without faith.

By evening, my head felt like overcooked rice.

One night, I finally said it.

“Appa… I don’t think engineering is for me. I want to study Cooking and Food Making. Hotel Management”

My father lowered the newspaper slowly, the way judges do before delivering bad news.

“Everyone says that during coaching,” he said. “We will do only Engineering”
My mother added, “Engineering kazhinjaal ellam sheriyavum.” (Everything will be all right after Engineering)

That was the end of the discussion.

“When adults say ‘everything will be fine’, it usually means ‘we don’t know either’.”

Engineering College: Fear, Fees, and False Hope

I had seen engineering ruin enough cousins.

Semester system.
Too many papers.
Internals. Series. Models.
Backpapers that followed people longer than their shadows.

Still, I landed in a private self-financing engineering college near Kochi, in Mechanical Engineering.

The fees were high.
The expectations are higher.
My interest… somewhere near zero.

Surprisingly… College Was Easy

Here’s the twist no one tells you.

Engineering college wasn’t brutal.
It was casual.

Large classrooms.
Loose attendance.
Teachers who taught as if they were fulfilling a legal obligation.

Nobody chased me.

That’s when I found my true department.

The canteen.

The Canteen: Where I Actually Studied

It started with extra tea.

Then leftover pazham pori.

One day, the cook asked,
“Evide padikkunnathu?” (Where are you studying, which branch?)

“Mechanical,” I said.

He laughed. “Aha… njangalum mechanical thanne. Grinder motor aanu.” (We are also Mechanical. Our Grinder is also mechanical)

They let me help.

Cut onions.
Fry omelettes.
Stir the sambar.

I learned:

• Rice waits for no one
• Oil speaks when it’s ready
• Salt forgives small mistakes

“Engineering taught me stress. Cooking taught me timing.”

The Girl, the Counter, and Fried Rice

And then… her.

She came to the canteen every afternoon.

“Fried rice,” she said once, smiling slightly.

I served it.

The next day, she looked at me and said,
“Today it tastes better.”

I said, “Extra soy sauce.”

She laughed.
That laugh stayed longer than any formula.

One afternoon, she asked casually,
“You don’t look like a mechanical student.”

I replied honestly,
“I’m undercover.”

She smiled again.

That was the entire relationship.

“College romance doesn’t need a story. Sometimes it survives on two sentences and one smile.”

The Semester I Didn’t Try to Win

I wasn’t worried about marks.

Friends panicked about internals.
I worried about whether the biryani would sell out.

Some failed papers.
Some cried.
Some cursed the semester system.

I simply drifted.

And the system drifted with me.

How I Somehow Got a CGPA of 7.4

Here’s the truth.

I didn’t top.
I didn’t flop.

I slipped through.

Attendance registers weren’t updated properly

Internal marks were averaged generously

Labs rewarded hand skills (finally useful!)

External evaluators corrected too many papers too fast

Relative grading quietly lifted the average students

“Sometimes success happens not because you are smart, but because everyone else is equally confused.”

Results Day: Relief, Not Pride

Back in Thrissur, we gathered around the dining table.

My sister checked first. Good marks.

Then me.

CGPA: 7.4

My father smiled.
“Good enough.”

I smiled too.

But inside, I felt… nothing.

No pride.
No excitement.

Just relief.

“Relief is what you feel when you escape something, not when you achieve something.”

The Kitchen at Home Changed Everything

Vacation came.

I helped my mother cook.

Chopping. Stirring. Tasting.

One day she said,
“Neeyokke nalla cook aanu.”(You are a Good Cook)

My father noticed guests asking for seconds.

That evening I said it.

“Appa… I don’t want the second semester.”

Silence.

Then he asked,” Then what?”
I said, “Hotel Management? Cooking Chef”

After a long pause, he said,
“Okay. If you want that, then go. Learn properly.”

Walking Away After First Semester

I packed my bags quietly.

Passed the mechanical block one last time.
The canteen cook waved.
The girl smiled and said, “All the best.”

That was enough.

I left engineering after the first semester.

Joined a Hotel Management Institute in Mangalore.

Epilogue

Today, when a dish comes together perfectly,
when timing beats theory,
When people eat and smile,

I know this.

“Not every degree feeds the soul. Some people are meant to feed people.”

Why I’m Telling You This

I’m not saying engineering is bad.
I’m not saying marks are useless.

I’m saying this:

Confusion is not failure. Staying silent about it is.

Some students discover their path early.
Some discover it by walking the wrong road first.

Both are normal.

If You Are Confused Right Now

Ask yourself gently:

• Do I feel alive while doing this?
• Or only relieved when it ends?

Listen carefully.

Relief means escape. Joy means direction.

You are not late.
You are not weak.
You are just listening, maybe for the first time.

And that is how real journeys begin.