PhD: Hungama Hai Kyon Barpa?

A PhD tests patience more than intelligence, offering neither comfort nor clarity along the way. But in the slow grind of failed experiments and small victories, the journey shapes someone who can carry uncertainty without breaking. In the end, what endures through the process matters far more than the destination - that is the quiet transformation a PhD leaves behind.

Let me tell you a story I heard a long time ago.

Up in the mountains there was a monk, famous for teaching meditation and yoga. Students came from everywhere to learn from him. One day two very enthusiastic and cheerful students came. They had waited months for this chance. After a few days at the monastery they finally got to meet the guru. With full childish excitement they thanked him for accepting them.

Seeing this, the guru asked if they had any questions. One of them politely but firmly asked, “How long will it take to finish the course?”

Guru smiled and said, “I don’t know.”

Surprised, the second student repeated the question. Same answer: “I don’t know.”

The smiles slowly disappeared. They couldn’t believe the guru-who they thought knew all secrets of life-couldn’t answer such a simple question. Doubt started creeping in. Did we make a mistake coming here? They just wanted to know when they would be ready.

Noticing this tension, the guru finally said he would reveal the big secret but only at the top of the mountain. He needed to show them something important before answering. The only condition: they must climb with him at dawn and reach the summit before sunrise.

They agreed immediately. They hardly slept at night thinking what awaited them.

In the morning they were ready even before the guru. Once he arrived, they took blessings and started climbing. The students rushed ahead, thinking it was an easy task. The guru, however, walked slowly.

He paused to explain the valley, the river’s mythology, the special tree that blossoms only in moonlight. The students nodded out of courtesy and marched on.He stopped again to talk about a medicinal plant found only on that mountain-again ignored. Near the top, he suggested they pause and enjoy the changing colours of the sky. They brushed it off-they wanted the summit.

Finally, they reached the top. A cool breeze swept over them. The first rays of sunlight touched the mist-covered leaves. The entire valley glowed. But the students didn’t care. They wanted the “big reveal.”

Impatiently they asked, “what were you supposed to show us?” Guru pointed at two rocks.“These rocks,” he said. The students stared. “These? What is special?”“I don’t know,” he replied.

They were irritated. “At least tell us when we will finish the course! ”Again-

I don’t know.”

The guru sat down and said gently:

“you climbed the entire mountain without seeing anything I showed you-the valley, the river, the tree, the healing plants, even the sunrise. Your eyes were open, but you saw nothing.”

He pointed down the path.

“You ask me when your training will be complete. How can I know? Mastery depends on attention, not time. And you have not learned to pay attention.”

He smiled softly.

“The day you start seeing, listening, and learning from each step… that day, your real training will begin. That is why my answer is always the same- I don’t know.”

Now, if you are wondering what this story has to do with a PhD- well, recently I saw a social media post where someone wrote that he finished his PhD at 34 with no money, no girlfriend, and no hair left. Sir, trust me, you’re not alone. I finished mine at 32 with no money and half my hair gone. Sometimes I feel hair loss should be compared to the impact factor we publish!

The point is- nobody guarantees you will finish your PhD with full hair, a partner, or a job with many zeroes in the salary. Yet we join PhD programs by ourselves. Nobody forces us. So why does the PhD get bashed so much?

PhD is tough. It’s the hardest degree. It’s the highest. And it’s the only degree where you create knowledge. If you finish a PhD, it means you know your topic better than anyone else, including your mentor.

But PhD life is strange. You earn like a student, are expected to think like a scientist, and are treated like neither. It is easily the most misunderstood profession. Yet every year, people line up to join- some out of passion, some out of confusion, some simply because they don’t know what else to do.

I always felt that a PhD is not a goal- it is the beginning of the journey. It is like a long practice session before the big match. Nobody claps for your perfect shot in practice, no one cheers when you beat your own record. But you still show up, because you want to master your craft. A PhD is the same. It trains you to think, design experiments, record data, ask questions, write papers, give talks, and most importantly, how to deal with setbacks.

PhD life is not comfortable. It is not glamorous. It won’t make you rich. But it deserves better support, especially in India- better stipends, better infrastructure, better networks. Science has become faster. A plasmid prep that once took a full day can now be done in 15 minutes. But there is no shortcut to the lessons learned from frustrations, failures, and the helplessness of experiments failing for months. The world never sees those failures- they see only the final polished results. But a PhD teaches you humility, resilience, and belief in yourself.

The journey is long. You meet many people- some you like, some you don’t. You gather memories- some to cherish, some to forget. Yet most of us fail to appreciate the journey. Like the students in the story, we fixate so much on reaching the top that we forget to look around. And that, truly, is the saddest part.

So yes, the PhD journey is long, messy, confusing and sometimes absolutely frustrating. But when you finally step out of it, you realise you didn’t just get a degree- you became someone who can think sharply, work patiently, survive setbacks, and still show up the next morning.

And maybe that’s the real point, a PhD doesn’t teach you when or how you’ll reach the summit—but it teaches you how to travel without losing yourself.

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