The Last Version of Me — A Writing Challenge

(From Shattered Dreams to a Life Fully Lived)

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Every version of who we are is built on the ruins of a dream we had to leave behind.

When I look back at the young man I was in the late 1960s, I see someone caught between the heavy expectations of family, the cynical realities of the world, and the harsh economic truths of a newly independent nation. We think we are choosing our destiny, but more often than not, destiny is what happens when our plans fall apart.

The War of Ambitions

If you had asked me in my teenage years what I wanted to be, the answer was simple: a doctor. I wanted to heal, to wear the white coat, and to find purpose in medicine. But life in an Indian household back then rarely bent to individual desire. My father had a different vision. He looked at me and saw a mechanical engineer.

Caught between my dream and his command, I secretly harboured a third ambition: civil engineering. Why? Because the cynical voice of society whispered that civil engineering was where the money was. In those days, a civil engineer could easily pave a path to wealth through the lucrative, albeit corrupt, practices of public infrastructure. It was an alluring shortcut for a young man dreaming of stability.

Ultimately, I rejected the shortcut. I wanted something clean. I decided to chart my own middle ground and chose Electrical Engineering.

The 1970's Reality Check

By the time I was finishing my degree at VRCE Nagpur, my ambitions had crystallised. I was ambitious. I used to stare out at the horizon and dream of rising to the absolute top: I wanted to become the Chief Engineer of the Himachal State Electricity Board. It was 1969, and the world felt like it was humming with technical possibilities. I thought a degree in a core engineering field would be my golden ticket.

Then, graduation day arrived. And the door to the world slammed firmly shut.

The job market for electrical engineers in 1974 didn’t just dwindle — it vanished entirely. There were simply no jobs. The grand, sweeping dream of sitting in the Chief Engineer’s chair evaporated overnight. My soaring ambition shrank to a desperate, pragmatic prayer: “Just let me find a vacancy for a Junior Engineer.” I went from aiming for the pinnacle of state infrastructure to wishing for the lowest rung on the ladder, just to have a purpose and an income.

Navigating the Destined Path

When the traditional doors closed, I had to reinvent what success meant. That crushing period of joblessness wasn’t the end; it was the crucible. It forced me to look beyond the static state of electricity boards and look toward a completely unexpected horizon — the uniform.

On December 23, 1974, a version of me was born that the young man of 1969 never could have anticipated: I joined the Indian Navy.

The electrical engineering degree that yielded no corporate or state jobs in 1969 became the foundation for a 20-plus-year military career. Instead of managing power grids in Himachal, I found myself managing massive technical ship refits in Mumbai, standing on the decks of warships, and leading hundreds of sailors through the unpredictable storms of the ocean and of life.

The Last Version of Me

Now, at 73+, I sit in the quiet solitude of my study, reflecting on the winding road. The version of me today is a retired Navy Captain, a computer scientist, a mentor to the next generation, and a writer sharing reflections on Medium.

If I could travel back in time to 1969 and sit down next to that anxious, dejected young graduate who was mourning the lack of electrical engineering jobs, I would tap him on the shoulder and smile.

I would tell him: Do not worry that the state electricity board has no room for you. The universe has a much larger canvas waiting for your brush. You will not become the Chief Engineer of Himachal, but you will command respect on the high seas. You will not make easy wealth through corruption, but you will earn an unshakeable legacy of integrity.**

We spend our youth agonising over the first version of our career. But it is the last version of us — the one seasoned by resilience, unexpected turns, and the peace of looking back with no regrets — that truly matters.

Tagging Manmeet Singh Bhatia to my story for this writing challenge. Grateful!

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🕰️ This story is part of ‘The Last Version of Me — A Writing Challenge’ on The Rabbit Note.

🕰️ Who did you have to stop being… to become who you are? Write about the self you left behind and submit to ‘The Last Version of Me’ on The Rabbit Note. Submissions open until 10 July 2026.

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