Oasis is reuniting for a 2025 tour, proving the Gallagher brothers finally decided not to ‘look back in anger.’ Just like them, as this earth completed another lap around the sun, we’ve all picked up some lessons, stumbled a bit, and found fresh perspectives along the way.
This year has been nothing short of extraordinary. I earned a master’s degree, humbled with the Student of the Year award, and moved to a small town—only to find myself working for a company that’s a bit more adventurous than its zip code suggests. I bought my first car, set up a new home, painted a guitar, started taking taekwondo classes, worked towards a pilot’s license, ran a half marathon, poured my heart out to the girl who makes it race, and faced a humbling medical challenge. It’s been a rollercoaster, but one heck of a ride!
Along the way, I discovered and revisited some beautiful music, movies, and poems that kept my soul still when the world outside was shaky. Below are my greatest takeaways/moments/thoughts from this year (and a few musical/cinematic references ;))
(The process) of fundamental change
For as long as I can remember, I’ve dreamed of building my own product—the kind that changes the world in ways no one saw coming. When a few stars aligned, I stumbled upon a unique problem in my field and a potential solution. I dipped a toe into startup waters, pitched to VCs, and then… I bailed. Instead of chasing the dream, I caved, whipped up a boring resume, and applied to electrical engineering jobs. Why? Not money, visas, or external pressures—it was something far dumber: either the weight of peer expectations or the mirage of comfort. Where did I go wrong?
When the job market dried up, I reluctantly accepted my first offer. So, I said “Tata to Cornell” (hope someone sees the amazing pun there) and packed for a little town in Washington called Pullman. At first, life felt simple, but that quickly changed. Living in a town of fewer than 5,000 people was like pressing mute on the world. In the deafening silence, I turned inward, seeking therapy (after stubborn resistance) and rekindling warmth through phone calls with old friends to face this refrigerator of a town.
One day, after weeks of the 9-to-5 grind, I went on an unplanned run and accidentally stumbled into Washington State University’s student orientation. Somehow, I ended up in the wrong queue, got mistaken for a new student, and walked out with a temporary ID card. Naturally, I had lunch, sat through the orientation, and made a few new friends. Before long, I got a gym membership at WSU and signed up for a taekwondo class on campus. (Yes, WSU, your security is questionable, but thanks for the entry!)
Slowly, I regained control of my life, leaving past mistakes behind. Then, one day, I met a colleague who was a pilot and bombarded him with a hundred questions about how he got his pilot’s license in the USA. Another colleague overheard our conversation and told me, that if I’m so eager to learn flying, he can hook me up with a flying school in Pullman. That was my eureka moment. Soon enough, I was up in the air, flying an engineering marvel, feeling more liberated than ever.
On another sunny day, I got a message from a girl I’d spoken to endlessly back in high school. We reminisced about volunteering together and painting her ukulele. Sixteen-year-old me had thought she might be “the one,” but I never dared say it. Connecting after eight years, we revisited those feelings—and as it turned out, she had liked me too. Back then, in true past-Sid style, I had dodged the topic and shut down any mention of it, all to avoid the possibility of rejection. I was genuinely happy for her; she had found her passion and a partner who matched her energy perfectly.
As for me, I realized what I had been doing wrong. I had been laying out bricks for walls of miscommunication everywhere. It was time for a change.
Baby steps to starting afresh~
Back at Cornell, I met a lively girl whose bubbling energy was downright contagious. Soft-spoken and charming, she almost felt unreal, like someone plucked out of a dream. Unfortunately for me, she seemed to have her life all figured out at the time.
Months later, something stirred within me—a voice telling me I needed to tell her how I felt, even if it led to nothing. Maybe it would brighten her day, and it would perhaps make me feel lighter. Who knew?
So, I did what any perfectly rational person would: I flew across the country to pour my heart out to a girl. And I did. That story is in the making.
Part of what makes us human is our ability to change. We all seek change in some or the other aspect, but acting upon it is a different story. James Clear’s book, ‘Atomic Habits’ touches upon the powerful idea that change begins with showing up at all the places you want to see yourself in.
Call it luck, but had I not shown up for a run, I wouldn’t have been mistaken for a student and gotten access to the WSU gym. Had I not followed up with a hundred questions about the flying planes, my coworker wouldn’t have overheard and connected me to flying school in Pullman. Had I not flown to the other end of the country to confess my feelings to the girl, she would never have known. This beautiful video draws connections between my favorite movie and the process of fundamental change 🙂
A recovery fueled by thoughts
Just when I thought I had my life in Pullman all figured out—settling in, steering the wheel with both hands and maybe even using my blinkers—life decided to take an abrupt turn. One weekend night, after a solid workout, a great meal, and dreams of sinking into a blissful sleep, I climbed into bed only to discover I couldn’t breathe properly. No warning, no heads-up—just me, a sudden medical curveball, and a town with no urgent care facility, plus a social circle limited to my coworkers. Perfect setup for a sitcom, right?
Turns out, one tiny medical hiccup is all it takes to remind us humans who’s really in charge. If COVID taught us anything, it’s that even the most microscopic of troublemakers can knock the entire world on its head. In my case, I wasn’t battling a pandemic—just my own body pulling a stunt without any prior consultation.
It wasn’t life-or-death bad (at least when I was awake), but still unsettling enough to make me question all my life choices. Calling 911 felt a bit dramatic, so I tried staying calm while Googling my symptoms, which, let’s be honest, is always a terrible idea. I then phoned a friend whose mom is a doctor. With the patience of a saint, she reassured me it was nothing serious and gave me some informal advice. Thankfully, the medication did its job, and the issue subsided just enough for me to hop on a flight back to India to sort things out properly.
Arriving home felt like returning to my personal superpower zone. My parents—those two miraculous beings who have been my healers, my inspiration, and best friends since day one—worked their magic simply by being there. Somehow, their presence alone could solve problems modern medicine might still be researching. With their support, I navigated the local healthcare system with the ease of a seasoned pro. After years apart, I met my school friends, and we picked up right where we left off, as if no time had passed. The right people and positive vibes cured half the problem before the surgery even happened. The other half? Taken care of with a routine procedure, and I bounced back in no time.
But this trip wasn’t just about fixing a medical issue. It became a much-needed reset for my soul. Somewhere along the way, I started chasing the “American dream” which had nudged me toward a materialistic mindset. I was accumulating more than I needed, comparing my life to my peers, and losing sight of what truly mattered. My time in India brought me back to love—the love I’d always known.
Love isn’t something new to me. It’s not an epiphany I stumbled upon while trying to find my breath or while recovering from surgery. It’s something I’ve been surrounded by my entire life—by my parents, who’ve been my guiding light since day one, by my friends who’ve stood the test of time, and by countless moments that now feel more precious than ever.
“All these memories lose their meaning when I think of love as something new.”
– In my Life, The Beatles
Because love isn’t new, it’s not something I have to search for; it’s been my constant companion all along, quietly steering me back home every time I’ve drifted.
Begin again
One of my favorite takes on life is this: once you’re born, you’re all in—there’s no opting out. No matter how cautiously you play your hand, the game eventually ends the same way. So, why not make it worthwhile? The startup idea I left behind, the love I let slip away, and the fresh start I made in Pullman have all taught me one thing: you can always hit the reset button and learn from past missteps.
“But something slowly began to dawn on me. I still loved what I did.”
—Steve Jobs, Stay Hungry, Stay Foolish.
Fast forward six months into my current role as an Electrical Engineer, and guess what? I discovered I had nailed my college product idea—so well, in fact, that its existence would make my current job obsolete. Irony much? Turns out, I’ve been working on the very tool that would eventually replace me. But life’s funny that way. My old project buddy, Yifan, and I have dusted off our plans, picked up right where we left off, and are back at it. We’re hyped for what’s ahead.
As 2024 gracefully bows out, I’m stepping into 2025 with a lesson from one of my favorite movies, Begin Again: no matter where you are in life, you always hold the power to start fresh. Here’s to new beginnings!
So, can Sally wait any longer? She knows it’s too late. Don’t look back in anger—go out there and win. You’re already all in, so stop waiting and make it count!
If you’ve made it this far, I’d love to hear your thoughts! There’s an eager comment box just below, waiting for you to dive in. 😊
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