When Dreams Don’t Feel the Way We Imagined | What PhD life is really like

For as long as I can remember, I dreamed of pursuing a PhD. It was my ultimate goal, a symbol of achievement, knowledge, and independence. After my post-graduation in Food Science, I got an opportunity to pursue a PhD in Food Biotechnology in South Korea. I was thrilled, but at that time, I was young and less mature to take such a bold step. My parents, especially my dad, were scared to let me move abroad. So, I stayed back, convincing myself that life had other plans.

Three years passed.

One fine day, an unexpected email popped up in my inbox. A professor from Coimbatore, Tamil Nadu, had come across my work and invited me for an interview. “I find your work interesting,” the email read. “Please come for an interview.” My heart raced, this felt like my second chance. Without hesitation, I said yes.

I booked a flight to Coimbatore for January 25th, 2025. The interview went well, and out of the applicants, three of us were selected, a girl from West Bengal, another from Kerala, and me. A month later, in March 2025, I officially became a PhD scholar.

It should have been one of the happiest moments of my life.
But something inside me felt… different.

Over the years, while working in different cities, I had become used to the comfort of metro life, cafes, quick deliveries, weekend parties, and a vibrant social circle. Yet, my heart never felt content. It kept whispering, “You were meant for research, for something more.”
But what I didn’t realize was that I had fallen in love with the idea of a PhD, not the life that came with it.

The Night Before Orientation

Two days before my departure, I was confident, ready to chase the dream I had longed for.
But as the day approached, fear crept in. I was 26 years old. If I started now, I would finish by 30. Four long years. No thoughts of marriage, no stability, no certainty, just a path filled with papers, experiments, and endless questions.

I spoke to many people who had done or were doing their PhDs. Each had a different story, some inspiring, some disheartening. My parents, as always, stood by me. “Whatever you choose,” they said, “we’re proud of you.”

Even after boarding the train, I wasn’t sure I was doing the right thing. I remember crying silently in the dim light of my compartment. A kind ticket collector noticed me and said softly, “I don’t know you, but I’m proud of you. It takes courage to chase something like this.” His words stayed with me.

That night, I didn’t sleep. I kept thinking of jumping off the train and going back home. But a voice inside me said, “If you go back now, everyone, especially your dad, will think you gave up.” So, I stayed. And by morning, I was in Coimbatore, exhausted, terrified, but determined, with one huge trolley and two bags.

The Orientation Day

Coimbatore welcomed me with warm air and red taxis, something I’d never seen before.
I booked one and headed straight to the college. My professor was waiting impatiently, reminding me it was already afternoon. I barely had time to breathe before I was handed a list of paperwork: signatures from the dean, hostel warden, and others.

In my metro life, even traveling a kilometer meant booking an Uber bike. But that day, I walked nearly four kilometers under the hot sun, running from office to office, collecting approvals. By evening, I was exhausted, physically and emotionally.

In the department, my professor, a post-doc, and the two other new PhD scholars: Pallavi from West Bengal (23) and Hyndavi from Kerala (26, a day scholar), were waiting.
I sat quietly, missing home. Tears rolled down without warning. Pallavi noticed, and started crying too. Our professor saw us and consoled us gently.

Later, Pallavi helped me carry my luggage up to the third floor of the hostel. My heart pounded as I opened the door to my new life. The room was simple! four sharing, no washing machines, minimal facilities. My mind screamed, “How will I survive here?”

After my post-graduation, I had grown comfortable, maybe too comfortable. I thought working life was a struggle. But I was wrong. The real struggle began here.

Sometimes, we romanticize our dreams without truly understanding the life that comes with them. And when that reality finally stands in front of us, raw, quiet, and uncomfortable, it forces us to face a side of ourselves we’ve never met before.

That night, as I lay on the narrow hostel bed staring at the ceiling fan spinning endlessly, I realized something, the dream I had chased for years had finally caught me. But was I ready to live it?

I didn’t know the answer then.

All I knew was that tomorrow would be my first day as a PhD scholar, the start of a journey I had dreamed of, feared, and fought for.

And little did I know, it was only the beginning of everything that would change me.

_ To be continued.