What I Have Earned In 20 years
🎂 I Completed 19 Years and Entered My 20s Today—Here's What I Earned Instead of Celebrations
Published: June 19, 2026
Today is my 20th birthday, and honestly, I'm not celebrating it.
Most people would find that strange. At 20, you're supposed to throw a party, go out with friends, do something that screams "I'm celebrating life!" But there's a heaviness to today for me that has nothing to do with sadness and everything to do with realization.
I had a dream to celebrate this milestone at PICT—one of India's most prestigious engineering colleges. And I didn't make it there.
That thought sits with me every birthday. Not as bitterness, but as a constant reminder of the gap between dreams and reality. Yet, as I sat down today to reflect on what the last 20 years have actually given me, something unexpected happened. I found peace.
After nearly two hours of honest, critical thinking about my journey—from a shy kid in a village to a first-year engineering student at Sanjivani College of Engineering building real projects—I realized something important:
I didn't earn money in these 20 years. But I earned something far more valuable. I earned respect.
🔍 The Question That Changed Everything
The moment usually comes quietly, without announcement. You're sitting alone, maybe at midnight on your birthday, and suddenly you ask yourself: "What have I actually earned in these years?"
Most people would point to achievements. Grades. Scores. Admission letters. For me, on paper, there are things: 99.07 percentile in PCM, 99.29 in PCB, college admission, scholarship through TFWS, deployed projects, users testing my code.
But achievement isn't the same as earning. Earning is deeper. It's about what others believe you are worth, and more importantly, what you believe about yourself.
So I asked myself the hard question: In 20 years, what have I truly earned?
The answer that emerged after those two hours of reflection wasn't what I expected. It wasn't about money or grades or college tiers. It was about something nobody ever talks about in engineering college counselling sessions.
It was about respect.
🌾 The Respect From My Society
I grew up in an environment where a village kid interested in technology was unusual. Not rare, but unusual enough that eyes followed. Not judging eyes—curious ones.
I earned the respect of my entire society because I did something they didn't see every day: I showed up. I studied consistently. I built things. I didn't just talk about what I would do someday—I did it now.
When people in my village think about me now, they don't just see a college student. They see someone who didn't give up even when life made things difficult. Someone who converted family financial constraints into fuel instead of excuses.
That respect is worth more than any bonus or scholarship I could have received. Because respect from your community—the people who watched you grow from day one—that's the kind that sticks. That's the kind that shapes who you become.
🏫 The Respect From Mentors and Teachers
In school, I had teachers who believed in me before I believed in myself.
There was Kale Sir, who made mathematics feel like a conversation instead of a lecture. Barhate Ma'am, whose passion for chemistry was contagious. Navale Ma'am, who had a way of explaining concepts that made you feel intelligent for understanding them, not stupid for not knowing.
Then came the preparation phase for MHTCET. My teachers—Ankush Sir with his incredible shortcuts and problem-solving hacks, Dinesh Sir whose humor made even the toughest physics concepts click—they didn't just teach me content. They taught me that struggle is a feature of learning, not a bug.
I earned their respect because I did something simple: I showed up prepared. I asked questions. I didn't pretend to understand things I didn't. I failed, learned from it, and came back stronger.
That respect—the kind where your teachers see you walking past them in college and they smile because they genuinely believe you're going to do something significant—that's something I earned through consistency, not luck.
🤝 The Friendship That Stayed
Junior college friendships are strange. They're formed in a bubble—intense, close, but everyone knows they'll scatter. Yet some bonds don't scatter. Some become deeper.
I earned real friendship from people who had no obligation to stay connected. They're people I studied with, struggled with, celebrated with. And now, even as we're in different colleges, doing different things, we're still there for each other.
That's different from social media connections or acquaintances. That's people who, when you call them at 11 PM with a problem, pick up and actually listen. People who remember your struggles and celebrate your wins not out of obligation but out of genuine care.
I earned this friendship because I was honest with them. I didn't pretend to have it all figured out. I showed them my fear, my doubts, my insecurities—and they did the same.
💪 The Confidence I Built From Introversion
This one might be the most surprising transformation of these 20 years.
I was an introvert in school. Not in the quiet, smart way that everyone glorifies now. In the truly awkward, "please don't call on me in class" way. My friends used to tease me about it. There were days I went home wondering if something was wrong with me.
But something shifted during 12th standard. It wasn't that I suddenly became an extrovert. It's that I stopped being ashamed of being an introvert. I learned that introversion isn't a flaw to fix—it's a feature to understand.
I started attending events not because I wanted to be the most social person in the room, but because I had something to contribute. I spoke at school assemblies not to impress everyone, but because I believed in what I was saying. I connected with people one-on-one because that's where my strength lies.
Now, as a first-year engineering student, I confidently connect with others. I present my projects. I talk about my ideas. I network with people from IITs and NITs not with the false energy of an extrovert, but with the grounded confidence of someone who knows their value.
Do I still have introvert tendencies? Absolutely. But I earned the confidence to be myself while also being capable of doing what needs to be done.
🏠 The Trust My Family Gave Me
"You're not a child anymore. You're grown up. You can handle responsibilities."
My family said this to me, and the weight of those words hit differently on my 20th birthday.
I didn't earn this trust through age. Plenty of 20-year-olds don't have it. I earned it through action. By managing my academics and staying focused during exam season. By taking scholarship seriously and not wasting the opportunity. By respecting my family's financial sacrifice and converting it into achievements, not just acceptances.
My family thinks of me differently now. Not as someone to worry about, but as someone to trust with problems. Someone who can think through situations and make decisions.
That trust is not just powerful—it's transformative. Because now I don't want to let them down. Not because of fear, but because of the weight of that trust.
🎓 The Opportunity I Created Through TFWS Admission
Here's a part I'm not often public about: securing admission through TFWS (Tuition Fee Waiver Scheme) and getting a scholarship removed a significant financial burden from my family.
It wasn't money I earned—it was opportunity. But opportunity is a form of wealth.
My mother's face when she learned the scholarship was approved told me everything. The burden on my father's shoulders became slightly lighter. My family could breathe a little easier.
I earned this not by being the smartest (I wasn't), but by being persistent. By preparing harder because I knew I couldn't afford to fail. By understanding that for someone with my background, merit wasn't optional—it was survival.
That changed our family's trajectory. And while I didn't earn money, I earned the ability to help my family. That's worth more than any salary.
🌐 The Network I Didn't Expect to Build
When I started my engineering journey, I thought my network would be limited to my college. But something unexpected happened.
Through FFE programs, LinkedIn, and GitHub, I connected with people from IITs, NITs, and other reputed universities. These aren't just connections on social media—these are people who code alongside me, who review my projects, who challenge my thinking, and who are genuinely invested in growth.
I earned this network because I did something simple: I built in public. I shared my projects on GitHub. I wrote about my journey on my blog. I wasn't perfect, but I was honest.
That network is becoming the foundation of something bigger. Opportunities come through networks, not just through grades. Collaborations happen through relationships. And I earned these relationships by showing up, being real, and contributing.
🔄 The Journey From Introvert to Less-Introvert
Let me be clear: I'm not claiming to be an extrovert now. That would be dishonest. I still prefer small conversations over large parties. I still take time to recharge after social interactions. I still think deeply before speaking.
But I'm not held back by that anymore.
The introvert I was at 16 couldn't have deployed a live web application and shared it with 16 real users for feedback. That version of me would have been too scared of judgment. But the version I am now? I can do it. I can be vulnerable about the process while being confident about the product.
That transformation—from "I can't" to "I can, even though it scares me"—that's something I earned through repeated small acts of courage.
🚪 What I Haven't Earned (And Why That's Okay)
Let me be honest about what I didn't earn in these 20 years: money, a tier-1 college degree, or a guaranteed impressive job offer.
I didn't get to celebrate my 20th at PICT. That dream is gone. And on other birthdays, that would have destroyed me. But today, sitting with all the other things I have earned, I can look at that gap and say: "The path I took is different, but it's not less valuable."
Sanjivani College of Engineering is where I am. And I'm building here. I'm learning here. I'm growing here. The dream changed, but the fighter didn't stop fighting.
🧠 The Perspective Shift That Came With Reflection
This is the thing about birthdays when you're 20: you're old enough to think about your life with some perspective, but young enough to realize you have no idea what you're actually doing.
I spent 19 years accumulating achievements, grades, and admissions. I got to 20 and realized that the metrics that matter most—respect, trust, genuine relationships, confidence, contribution—these can't be measured on a report card.
The perspective I earned is this: Success is not about the destination. It's about who you become on the way there.
I didn't make it to PICT. But I became someone who could build ScholarDesk while preparing for exams. Someone who earned 16 real users because they found value, not because of a marketing strategy. Someone my mentors believe in. Someone my family trusts. Someone my friends actually stay connected with.
That's the earning that matters.
🔭 What Comes Next
I'm stepping into this next year—my 20th year—with a clarity I didn't have before.
The goal is no longer about achievement metrics. It's about:
Learning constantly. Whether it's new frameworks, better approaches to problems, or understanding myself better.
Building things that matter. Not just projects for my resume, but products that solve real problems for real people.
Staying true. Being honest about my introversion, my fears, my journey. Because that authenticity is what connects with people.
Supporting my family. Ensuring that the financial constraints that shaped my path become stepping stones, not barriers for them in the future.
Staying productive. Not in the hustle-culture way, but in the way that means I'm consistently doing meaningful work.
I don't know where I'll be at 25, or 30, or 40. But I know what I've learned by 20: The most important measure of growth is not what you accumulate, but who you become.
🎁 The Real Birthday Gift
If you're reading this and you're also stuck in a similar place—you achieved something, but it wasn't the something you dreamed of; you got into a college, but not the college; you're working hard but wondering if it matters—I want to tell you this:
Your worth is not measured by the tier of your college or the prestige of your job title or the money in your bank account. These things matter, yes. But they're not the measure.
The measure is respect. From yourself. From your community. From people who know the real you. The measure is trust. The measure is genuine relationships. The measure is the confidence that comes from knowing you showed up and did your best, even when it was hard.
I turned 20 today without a birthday celebration, without the college I dreamed of, without money to show for my work.
But I have something worth far more. I have the quiet confidence that in 19 years, I earned something that will last much longer than any college degree ever could.
And that's enough.
🪞 Final Reflection
"You don't need to be born into privilege to earn respect. You need to be persistent, honest, and willing to do what others won't. At 20, I haven't earned money—but I've earned something that money can't buy: I've earned a life worth living."
The fighter is still fighting. The builder is still building. And at 20, the best part of the journey is just beginning.
Signing off,
Mayur B. Gund
Sy B.Tech CSE, Sanjivani College of Engineering
Turning 20 without celebrating, but celebrating everything I've earned
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