CEO speaks: From Small Towns to Big Dreams: Where Determination Replaces Privilege

I often find myself in rooms where India’s future is discussed in confident phrases. Yet, the most enduring lessons I learn about ambition, resilience and purpose do not come from those discussions. They come from classrooms filled with students from tier-2 and tier-3 towns. Perhaps this connection runs deeper because I, too, come from one.

Growing up away from metropolitan centres, opportunity was never abundant. Career pathways were hazy, mentors were few and exposure to the wider world arrived late. Confidence had to be earned slowly. What we did have, however, was an unshakeable respect for education, patience in the face of constraint and a quiet determination to move forward even when the path ahead was uncertain. Years later, as I engage daily with students from small towns across India, I see those same qualities mirrored back at me with striking clarity.

These students teach me that ambition does not require privilege. Many are first-generation learners. Their parents are farmers, shopkeepers, factory workers, drivers, or small traders. There are no professional networks waiting to be inherited, no family playbooks on navigating higher education. Yet, their aspirations are expansive. They want to become engineers, researchers, doctors, entrepreneurs, scientists and teachers. Their ambition is not ornamental. It carries the weight of family sacrifice and collective hope. It is rooted not merely in personal success, but in the desire to lift entire households. That kind of ambition has dignity.

They also teach me that discipline matters more than early confidence. Students from big cities often arrive fluent in self-expression. Many students from smaller towns, especially in the early months, hesitate to communicate in English, struggle with unfamiliar digital tools, or wait longer before raising a hand in class. But what they rarely lack is consistency. They attend lectures without fail, rewrite assignments patiently, absorb feedback without defensiveness, and practise until competence replaces hesitation. Confidence can be taught. Discipline must be lived. And many of these students arrive with it already embedded in their character.

Time and again, they remind me that talent is evenly distributed, even if opportunity is not. Some of the sharpest analytical minds I encounter come from districts that barely appear on innovation maps. Their curiosity is deep, their reasoning rigorous, and their moral compass often steadier than most. What they lack is not intelligence, but exposure to research environments, internships, global conversations, and role models who look like them. When institutions invest in them through mentoring, project-based learning, industry engagement, and patient academic support, the transformation is remarkable. Not dramatic, not noisy, but lasting. It reinforces a simple truth: brilliance is not urban property.

In an age increasingly shaped by entitlement, these students also teach me gratitude. Many approach education not as a transaction, but as a privilege. They thank their teachers, apologise for missing classes, celebrate small milestones and understand instinctively that learning can alter the destiny of generations. This awareness nurtures humility, and humility, in turn, shapes character.

Often, I am reminded of a timeless idea associated with Swami Vivekananda, that one should leave a mark on the world. Not through wealth, titles or noise, but through integrity, contribution, courage, and service. Every day, I see students from small towns attempting exactly that. Quietly. Without spectacle. They do not seek shortcuts. They seek chances.

They also clarify what the idea of a developed India must truly mean. National progress cannot be measured only in skyscrapers, startup valuations, or metropolitan indices. It must be reflected in the confidence of small towns, the competence of rural youth, and the quality of opportunity available beyond a handful of highly urbanised clusters. If these students succeed, not merely as employees, but as thinkers, researchers, innovators, and ethical leaders, India succeeds. They are, fundamentally, the backbone of our country!

They do not ask for privilege. They ask for fairness: good teachers, relevant curriculum, digital infrastructure, internships, research exposure, and dignified work. That is not charity. That is nation-building.

History itself offers reassurance. Dr Meghnad Saha, one of India’s greatest scientists, emerged from poverty in a small village, walking miles to school and studying under street lamps before reshaping global understanding of the stars. Dr APJ Abdul Kalam rose from a modest childhood in Rameswaram to shape India’s scientific destiny and inspire generations as the People’s President. These lives are powerful reminders that birthplace does not define destiny. In our classrooms today sit thousands of unfinished stories like his, quiet, determined, waiting for opportunity to meet preparation.

Having lived through the same set of challenges, I recognise their silences, their struggles, and their restrained confidence. And in their journeys, I see the future of India, not loud, not entitled, but steady, ethical, and rising. From everywhere!

The author is the Vice-Chancellor of Sister Nivedita University and Group CEO, Techno India Group. A visionary leader, he is shaping future-ready institutions and inspiring students to lead with purpose