There is a unique kind of grit you develop when you pack up your life in Mumbai and drop yourself into northern India entirely alone. If you think Mumbai local trains are a test of character, try navigating the pure, unadulterated Jatt energy of managing your life and career solo.
For three incredible years—from 2022 through March 2025—I did exactly that during my unforgettable stint in Punjab.
As a certified Mumbai girl with roots that know how to hold their ground, I didn’t just survive those three years; I conquered them like a boss. Stationed in places like Sarabha Nagar, Model Town, Jalandhar, and Karnal, I carved out a niche for myself, collected a few shiny professional awards and accolades along the way, and proved I could rule the boardroom. But let’s be real—every single day of that stint was a brand-new episode of a daily soap opera I didn't audition for.
I travelled alone, did absolutely everything independently, and built a reputation from scratch. Along the way, my daily routine involved interacting with a spectacular spectrum of humanity. I met some genuinely wonderful, dil-waale people who would offer you their life savings and a glass of lassi. And then... I met the absolute weirdos. The daily-drama kings, the boundary-testers, and the folks who clearly forgot to take their common sense out of the fridge that morning.
Honestly? I owe those weirdos a thank-you note. The good ones gave me warmth, but the weirdos gave me premium, unfiltered life lessons (and enough gossip to last a lifetime). I guess that’s exactly what life is all about—a chaotic mix of duas, drama, and trophies.
Yet, isn't it hilarious how you can spend three years conquering new territories solo, handling high-stakes operations, and accepting accolades on stage with absolute swag, but still sweat bullets looking at a round metal wheel?
For years, I’ve kept driving on the absolute back burner.
Despite travelling the globe and running the show like a true Jatti, getting into the driver's seat was the one fear I comfortably avoided. I had my reasons—and by reasons, I mean highly sophisticated, high-class excuses that kept me happily lounging in the passenger seat like a queen while everyone else chauffeured me around.
But my chapter in Punjab taught me that true independence doesn’t come with a chauffeur. It’s time to face the music, grind the gears, and officially learn how to drive.
Look, if I could handle the streets of Punjab and Karnal all by myself from 2022 to 2025, deal with dramatic setups and eccentric characters, and win awards while doing it, I can definitely handle a steering wheel without causing a multi-car pileup. This isn't just about getting from point A to point B; it’s about proving to myself that fear doesn't get to dictate my limits.
To anyone else hiding from an old hesitation: if I can transition from navigating Jalandhar politics to navigating actual traffic, you can face your fears too.
Wish me luck, keep your distance, and if you see me stalling the car at a green light... bura naa mano, just give me a very polite, encouraging honk. After all, even the best drivers started with a stalling engine!
Rab Rakha!!!!!
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