In our Himachali hills, admission is like being given a raga but not the notes—you must find your own scale. At universities like Toronto, they call this POSt, where you prove yourself in first year before entering your chosen stream. This reminds me of tuning my harmonium in the cold: the university admits you to the faculty, bhai, but the true melody of your major comes only after much practice and shivering dedication. My own son in Delhi faced this, his engineering dream resting on those first-year marks, just as my old fingers must warm on the keys before the music flows true.
#life#career
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