THE BEGINNING: A SPARK IGNITES

Experience truly is the best teacher in life. My journey at my college has been nothing short of a wild roller coaster—an exhilarating ride packed with relentless challenges, everyday discrimination, and moments that pushed me to my very limits. There were times when the weight of injustice and prejudice felt like it might crush me, but I stood tall, unwavering and unshaken. With every tear shed and every trial faced, I forged a resilience that only grew stronger—like steel that becomes sharper with every hit. It’s been a whirlwind, a chaotic mix of dal and chawal, each flavor teaching me lessons I’ll carry forever.

Today, I want to share one of the most precious lessons of my life—an unforgettable moment that changed everything: the election.

Now, what’s the best feeling in the world? For me, it was the day I returned home after finishing my second year of college. I had been away for 55 long days, visiting Lucknow to spend precious moments with my loved ones. The days passed in a flash, and suddenly it was time to head back to Loyola, back to the hustle, the chaos, and the unknown ahead.

Stepping onto campus again marked the beginning of my third year. And in our college, the final year meant only one thing: the elections. As soon as I arrived, the very first news I heard came from my brother, Ashwin.

Ashwin? Oh wait—I forgot to introduce him. Ashwin isn’t just my brother—he’s my partner-in-crime, my mentor, my best friend—the mastermind behind my craziest ideas. Hailing from Kerala, he’s a classic Malyali guy who loves teasing me about his food choices (another hilarious story for another day). Over time, Ashwin and I became inseparable, especially because of the wild situations we faced at college together.

But Ashwin—he’s one of a kind. An extraordinary blend of intelligence, wit, and unwavering determination. The guy has this rare talent for seeing the bigger picture, inspiring others with calm confidence, and turning even the craziest challenges into opportunities. His quiet strength, sharp insights, and that infectious belief that nothing is impossible—he’s the kind of leader who motivates you to believe in yourselves even when the odds are stacked against you. Honestly, I’ve always admired his wisdom—how he can turn every setback into a stepping stone.

Ashwin hit me with the news immediately: “Bhai, elections have been announced for both college and department.”

I wasn’t sold. I wasn’t in the mood to throw myself into that mess. But Ashwin wasn’t backing off. “We have to do this,” he said, eyes lit with purpose. “This election has to mean something. Let’s not sit back. Let’s fight—not just for positions, but for the soul of our department.”

Then came his line, the one that’s etched into my memory:
ജീവിതം എന്ന് പേരാണ് വെല്ലുവിളികളുടെ സമാഹാരമാണ്; അതിനാൽ പോരാടി തകര്‍ന്നുനിൽക്കുക

Translation: “Life, as its name suggests, is a collection of challenges; so fight fiercely and stand tall.”

It hit me hard. Like one of those movie moments where the background score swells. I was all in.

 

Lets back to elections……………………..


ROUND 1: THE BATTLE BEGINS

The atmosphere was electrifying.

It was election season in our department, and for the first time in years, change was not just an idea—it was a possibility. Three of us from our group decided to contest for different posts:

  • Hemanth – for Class Representative (our very own Bahubali)
  • Ashwin – for General Secretary
  • Me (Shrikant) – for Sports Secretary

We were ready. Or so we thought.

Hemanth was one of the most respected students, known for his leadership and fairness. But when the results came out, it shocked us all.

His opponent—less competent, but with strong local backing—won through the power of regionalism. Hemanth had faced a discriminatory domicile challenge. Despite giving a strong fight.


ROUND 2: THE VISIONARY’S FALL

Next up: Ashwin’s turn.

Everyone believed he would win. Students, professors—even the HOD had high hopes for him. He was smart, well-spoken, charismatic, and had a clear vision to elevate our department.

He went all in:

  • Learned Tamil to connect with locals
  • Gave a goosebump-inducing speech with powerful ideas
  • Spoke of growth, unity, and creating a department that could lead by example

But…

His opponent had no real vision. He simply wanted the position for the “badge,” to flex in front of his local circle.

Even then—-----------------

Ashwin fought with integrity, but behind the scenes, negative PR and politics brewed. The bias was real. Ashwin’s ideas didn’t matter to those who had already decided their loyalties….


ROUND 3: "MISSION VIJAY" BEGINS

After witnessing all that happened, I was hesitant to run. But then came Professor Karolia, our progressive and kind mentor. She handed me the nomination form and said:

“Shrikant, this is your chance. You must take the lead. It’s about the department.”

I felt something spark inside me.

Being part of the college sports team, I knew I could do justice to the post. I laid out my vision. I called it:

“MISSION VIJAY” – a structured plan to enhance sports and student involvement at all levels.

The professors liked the energy. They saw the determination. They wished me luck and said,

“Shrikant, fight well.”

But just as I walked out, I bumped into my opponent—Kavin, a fellow NSS student and someone who had initially supported my nomination.

What shocked me more?

He was being backed by Ajith—Ashwin’s best friend.

Tensions rose, confusion followed. But soon after, relief came:
Kavin’s nomination was cancelled due to attendance—he had only 23%, while 70% was mandatory.

Everyone congratulated me. It was done. Or so I thought.


THE TWIST IN QUEEN HALL

The next day, we gathered in Queen Hall for the official announcement.

I was calm, confident, and mentally preparing my victory speech. And then came the moment…

  • Class Rep: Hemanth vs Gokul
  • General Secretary: Ashwin vs Prem
  • Sports Secretary: Shrikant vs Kavin

The entire hall froze. What?

Kavin was back. Somehow, his nomination was revived. No one explained how. Even Professor Karolia looked disturbed.

I felt betrayed, confused—but had no time to complain. All Karolia ma’am said was:

“All the best, Shri. It’s no longer in my hands.”

And just like that, I knew: the dirty politics had found me too.


CAMPAIGN WEEK: THE LONGEST 7 DAYS

What followed was an exhausting and emotional campaign.

Me, Ashwin, and Hemanth gave it our all. Our speeches were loaded with purpose, energy, and real vision.

But I faced the worst:

  • Language barriers
  • Regional bias
  • Negative campaigning

Kavin’s team spread disgusting narratives:

  • “He’s North Indian.”
  • “He wears a rudraksh.”
  • “He applies tilak.”
  • “He doesn’t know Tamil.”

I raised complaints. The department told me to “focus on votes.” Even Karolia ma’am had become silent.

But I didn’t stop. I called people. I spoke personally with everyone—even the tough crowd, the “last benchers.”

One guy I had helped financially in my first year said:

“You helped me then. Now it’s my turn.”

That moment gave me strength.


ELECTION DAY: THE FINAL COUNTDOWN

I walked into Queen Hall on Election Day—not with the certainty of victory, but with the pride of effort.

Votes were cast.

The results came in:

  • Class Rep: Gokul wins by x votes

                                 Hemanth lost.

                                 he lost with a significant margin.

                                  It was the first blow. And it hurt.

                                   But the game wasn’t over…………………………..

 

 

  • General Secretary: Prem wins by x votes

           Despite ashwin’s best efforts, he lost.      

 

We were 0 for 2.

And now, all eyes turned to me.

 

  • Sports Secretary: Kavin wins by 14 votes

It stung—not because I lost, but because of how it unfolded—quiet betrayals, rigged loyalties, and the silence of those I thought would stand by me.

Some teammates hadn’t voted for me. It hurt. But professors like Jeevith sir and Hareesh sir saw what truly mattered. They told me the truth:

“You didn’t lose. You made them see.”

We may not have taken the posts. But we had shifted something deeper. We shook the ground. We challenged narratives. We exposed biases.

In that moment, we realized the real victory wasn’t in winning the election but in the bonds we had forged and the person we became along the way. Our journey had just begun. The lessons learned—from friendship and perseverance to standing against discrimination—were riches far more valuable than any trophy.

The loss might have been hard to swallow, but it only fueled our fire. We knew this was just a stepping stone. We had made our mark, inspired change, and learned that true leaders are born not in victory, but in resilience. Watching the new leaders take their oath, a deep sense of pride swelled within us. We had started as underdogs, but we ended as messengers of change.

Our story was far from over. The future awaited, and we were ready—together, stronger than ever—facing whatever challenges lay ahead with hearts full of hope and heads held high. Because this was only the beginning of the journey, and we had much more to achieve.

Because sometimes, a battle lost can still win a war.

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