PhDs of India

“After completing my Bachelor’s degree in Mechanical Engineering from Dehradun, I joined a manufacturing plant at Volkswagen. Although this is a common trajectory for someone with an engineering background, I soon grew disillusioned with it. Climbing the corporate ladder often comes at a personal cost, and I wanted a career path that felt more meaningful and sustainable. I thereafter pursued an MBA, during which I developed a strong passion for teaching and began envisioning myself as an educator.
Motivated by this interest, I appeared for the UGC NET examination and successfully qualified. However, the pay scale for teaching positions at the time did not align with my expectations, and I quickly realized that in order to further my career in academia, it is essential that I got a doctoral degree. The financial aspect of pursuing such a degree weighed heavily on me and at one point I chose to go back into corporate. Additionally jumping from industry to academia was not an easy transition.
During this transition period however, I came across the doctoral program at University of Energy and Petroleum Sciences (UPES), Dehradun which had introduced a doctoral program offering a much better compensation structure compared to other institutions. This opportunity allowed me to bring together my passion for teaching and the stability I was seeking.
My PhD research focuses on banking chatbots, with particular emphasis on user satisfaction and continuous usage intention. The study was motivated by the widespread dissatisfaction users often express with customer service chatbots. Common issues include vague or unhelpful responses and a reluctance among customers to engage with these systems at a time when many corporations are increasingly adopting such technologies.
I believe my research offers a unique perspective on whether the perceived benefits of integrating AI-powered tools truly translate into positive outcomes for customers. While these technologies promise efficiency and cost savings for companies, they can also leave users with a poor service experience. Assessing this trade-off through a cost–benefit analysis is crucial, and my study aims to provide insights that can help organizations balance operational advantages with customer satisfaction.
My supervisor played an integral role in making my PhD journey a success. Like any academic pursuit, the process had its share of ups and downs, but his constant patience and guidance were invaluable, particularly in the early stages when I was shaping my thesis topic. He helped me cultivate a detail-oriented approach and a deeper sense of academic rigor, both of which have been crucial to my growth as a researcher. In addition to having a good supervisor, I was also mindful of taking breaks, either by playing sports or engaging in physical activity, to keep any kind of stress at bay and that had a huge impact on my overall productivity and PhD experience.
When I began my PhD, the concept of research felt quite foreign to me, and for a long time I considered that my biggest drawback. Over time, however, my background in corporate helped me design and communicate my research more effectively.
Academia often relies heavily on jargon, which can make ideas inaccessible. If we truly want to bridge the gap between industry and academia, it is essential to avoid unnecessary complexity and instead focus on communicating ideas in a way that allows for effective exchange between the two worlds.
My advice to anyone considering a PhD is to be both mindful and patient. Competition has become the norm in academia, but it can also take a toll on your mental health. Instead of comparing yourself to others, focus on your own path. While hard work is essential, success in a PhD depends on many factors like coursework, synopsis preparation, and, most importantly, the timely publication of required research papers. These elements rarely align all at once, so patience is key. So trust the process, and wait for the moment when everything comes together.”

-Sushant Sakhlani, PhD in General Management, University of Energy and Petroleum Sciences, Dehradun

Interviewed and written by Debalina Acharyya

“I grew up in Ratannagar, a small village in Churu district, Rajasthan, where my father was adamant about marrying off his daughters early. But I didn't want an early marriage. Even though that acted as my primary motivator, I was always enthusiastic about learning new things and moving out of my comfort zone.
I completed my Bachelor’s at Maharaja Gangasingh University, Bikaner in 2016, which was financed by my Gargi Puraskar school fellowship. My father refused to support me as family finances were already aggravated with my younger brother suffering from a severe heart condition back then. After BSc, I cracked entrance exams for Central Universities in Punjab, Rajasthan, Haryana, DU, and JNU. My father didn't allow me to go to any of these places because being outside the state meant going far from home. “Girls shouldn't be sent away for studies” - this was almost like our family's unspoken law.
Despite the odds, I desperately wanted to crack IIT-JAM, my gateway to doing an integrated Master’s and PhD. But asking permission to sit for the exam only amplified his resentment. I completed my Master’s at Rajasthan University and then cracked CSIR NET-JRF and PhD entrance exam, where I needed 3000 INR for the exam since my fellowship had ended by then.
The messiah of my life for a very long time was my mother. When I was born, the first child being a daughter, the society was ready to proceed with the rituals leading to female infanticide. It is for my mother that I am alive today. She was excellent at sports and didn't want to get married. Naturally, she wanted her daughters, me and my sister, to build the life she never experienced. During my Master’s, there were times I was not allowed to visit my own house. My mother secretly sent money; she never explained how, only said it was her responsibility. She has been my fiercest advocate since birth.
With her blessings and CSIR fellowship, I started my PhD. But in 2020, a massive locust attack devastated Rajasthan's agriculture. I recall their enormous numbers even blocking sunlight from reaching plants. My supervisor had worked on grasshoppers, it clicked. We agreed to research the geographical and seasonal distribution of locusts across four districts and propose sustainable solutions of food security and crop management as part of my PhD thesis. The work, especially the field survey, was exhausting. Over two years, there were fortnightly surveys amidst dense farms with no network or security, which I had to conduct myself.
My supervisor was preoccupied with other commitments and was not available at times. But I was undeterred in my aims and what I needed to accomplish those. I expanded the work into wet lab-species harvesting, macronutrient extraction, and even fostering collaborations to analyse samples. I wasn't equipped for cutting-edge research, but deconstructing this into simple concepts eventually got my work integrated into the university's MSc syllabus. My research was a pioneer study about entomophagy in Northern-India.
During the pandemic, stuck in Jaipur, my mother called me one night. She said my father was crying. He had realised that he should have supported me more. By then, I was sending money home. I was the first in my village to attempt a PhD and do good work. Multiple people, including my supervisor, met my father during this time. My determination, my mother's persistence and an unbiased assessment of everything that was going around slowly but surely changed his perspective. We're a family of five; when people are hungry and need money, I understand that rage is inevitable. In our area, highly qualified men are rare. Girls pursuing academics create power imbalances essentially preventing marriage. But since my father expressed his feelings, he never mentioned marriage again.
My fieldwork became easier when my family joined me. We planned as a team; if I surveyed one district, my parents and siblings covered another the same day. However as the five years were nearing an end, I had to look for a job to support myself. The end was nowhere in sight. The project was getting bigger and I had almost no support. To make it worse, I was hit by a dengue around the same time. Physically broken, I was sick of life and did not want to live. From whatever strength remained, I wrote one desperate email to my professor. Miraculously, she came full circle. She expressed her willingness in bringing the project to a close, helped me frame my data, write the thesis and prepare for defense.
I was the youngest in my department to graduate. During my defense, I had an external examiner who called my parents to congratulate them. He said he felt proud not because I finished my PhD which many did anyway but because of my fighting spirit. I never stopped following my dreams. My parents were my closest companions. It was a roller coaster of emotions with my father but my angst was only born out of my love for him. I don’t have any qualms with him.
After my PhD, a local newspaper approached me. Being the first in my village to finish this degree I insisted they mention my parents' support. Quite unbelievably, some families postponed the marriage of their girls as my story spread. I think I've started a mindset shift in my place. I won't shy away from fighting for thousands of girls like me. I tell girls to never give up without trying. PhD isn't mainstream in Indian academia like medicine or engineering because we lack awareness of research at early stages.
I have learnt in this journey that you are actually fighting alone. Darwin left an eternal truth when he wrote about survival of the fittest. My struggle for survival was against the norm of marriage, so my independence is untouched and today I can say that I have proven to be the fittest multiple times. For women, almost every day is a war in the places where I live. Even though there are shared causes, nobody really knows your story. But if you are the fittest, you always come out alive and extraordinary.”

-Pooja Jundiya, PhD in Zoology, University of Rajasthan, Jaipur

Interviewed and written by Aniruddha Mukherjee

“After two years of attempting the NEET exam, I decided to apply for a Bachelor’s degree while continuing my preparation on the side. During the last few semesters, I came to accept that it was time to give up the pursuit of doing medicine and focus on completing my degree. In hindsight, the discipline of NEET preparation helped me clear my BSc in Biotechnology with a strong foundation.
When I started my Master’s, I soon realised there wasn’t enough emphasis on practical learning. The coursework felt theoretical, detached from the laboratory experiences that had drawn me to science in the first place. I decided to drop out and wait for the next admission cycle. It was a difficult decision at the time, but one that changed everything. In 2016, I joined JNU for my Master’s in Biotechnology. The environment at JNU was transformative. The faculty, the research culture, and the sheer exposure to scientific thinking ignited my curiosity and gave me the confidence to imagine a life in research. I also met my now husband at JNU, whose passion for science and clarity of thought became a constant source of inspiration for me. I continue to look up to him as both a partner and an idol in research. I began to see science not just as a subject to study, but as a way of thinking and questioning.
When it came time to apply for a PhD, I was clear that I wanted to work where research was both meaningful and applied. I applied to only two institutions and sat for their written exams. After receiving a call for an interview from IIT Bombay, I carefully went through the list of projects and supervisors, selecting one whose work resonated with my growing interest in biomedical research. Before I could attend the IISc Bangalore interview, I received confirmation from IIT Bombay and that became my path forward.
My research focused on developing a drug-loaded implant for pancreatic cancer, a field that brought together innovation, biology, and engineering. The work was deeply experimental, involving drug-loaded implant synthesis, in vitro studies, mice experiments, and cell culture work; each step aimed at creating something that could one day make a tangible impact. This hands-on, result-oriented nature of research became the driving force that sustained me through the long hours in the laboratory.
However, that same intensity became the hardest part of my journey when COVID-19 struck. Experimental research thrives on continuity, and suddenly everything came to a halt. Even when lockdowns were lifted, progress was fragile. With intermittent quarantines, I often returned to work to find my cell lines dead and weeks of work lost. The process of resetting everything, knowing another lockdown could undo it again, tested my patience and emotional resilience. It was a period filled with uncertainty and frustration, yet it also taught me persistence in ways no coursework ever could.
After nearly two years of disruptions, the laboratory slowly came back to life. I shifted my focus toward completing my experiments and finishing my thesis on time. Those final months were a blur of long hours, recalibrations, and renewed motivation. I defended my PhD in 2024, a milestone that felt as much about endurance as achievement.
Soon after, I joined an IIT Bombay-based startup, transitioning from academia to industry. The shift gave me a new perspective on how science functions beyond the academic world. In academia, projects often receive ample funding but remain confined to ideas that look promising on paper. Translation into real-world applications is limited. Startups, on the other hand, are driven by tangible results but operate with scarce resources. Bridging this gap and combining academia’s depth with industry’s focus could lead to truly transformative, result-oriented innovation.
Looking back, I realise how much this journey shaped my understanding of both science and myself. I began as someone who wanted to wear a doctor’s coat and ended up finding a deeper purpose in research.”

-Archana Kumari, PhD in Chemical Engineering, Indian Institute of Technology Bombay

Interviewed and written by Yashee Singh

“By Standard XI, I realized neither engineering nor medicine held meaning for me. I've always known that unless something pulls me up from within, I can't hold on to it. In 2011, I chose sociology, challenging both me and my parents.
In my final undergraduate year, the National Young Sociologists Competition at Christ University changed my trajectory and led me to my master's there. By first year's end, professors said I had a natural instinct for research. I half-jokingly put ‘PhD’ in my passwords.
My mother, a teacher, was instrumental in encouraging me toward academia. She pushed me to write the UGC JRF examination, which I cleared. When I cracked the NIMHANS entrance, it felt like coming home. We talk about the right supervisor for a scholar, but rarely about the right institute. Leaving a stable, well-paying job wasn't easy. Many questioned my choice, but my family's faith, especially my father's, never wavered.
My PhD explored how social factors influence care pathways for patients with acute brain infections in India. Fever is often dismissed, yet it can signal life-threatening infections like meningitis or encephalitis.
COVID hit during data collection. Oddly, it became an unexpected gift. People, isolated and fearful, wanted someone to listen. Conducting research in full PPE was exhausting, but patients opened up. Early on, I was told, "You'll never get samples. This isn't for humanities or behavioral sciences." After the pandemic, they called me lucky. I learned that belief in yourself often matters more than others' definitions of luck.
I was co-mentored by Prof Priya Treesa Thomas and Prof M Netravathi, both brilliant clinicians and hands-on researchers. They walked the field with me and connected me to University of Liverpool's Global Brain Infections project. I got married during PhD, was COVID positive right after data collection while 5 months pregnant, had a child, and wrote and submitted my entire thesis while he was 3 months old. I defended when he was barely a year. My mentors never pressured me - they appreciated life, trusted my rhythm, and opened many opportunities in line with publications. I began with UGC JRF and ended with NIHR grant and honorary fellowship at University of Liverpool.
The journey, although fulfilling, had its own shares of challenges. I initially struggled to secure the guide I truly wanted. I refused to compromise, and the institute wanted otherwise. I remember breaking down on a call with my sister, ready to quit. She told me, “If you know what you want, don’t give up.” I lost six months while others moved ahead but eventually, I was assigned the mentors I believed in. Looking back, it was worth every tear.
Realizing how deeply I was supported by patients who trusted me, mentors who believed in me, and peers who showed up, made me feel blessed. During my department presentations, I worried no one would come. Instead, seniors and juniors from across departments, many for whom attendance wasn’t mandatory, turned up just to cheer. That kind of solidarity is unforgettable.
There were other quieter struggles like fellowship delays. I often skipped outings to save money, hiding behind excuses. My friends saw through it. They insisted I accept help and reminded me that self-care was also about allowing others in. Their compassion kept me afloat.
Over the years, I’ve seen India’s PhD ecosystem evolve: more academic freedom, openness to interdisciplinary work, better grant access, and conversations around work-life balance. I learnt that life doesn’t pause for a degree; live it alongside your work.
Today, as an Assistant Professor at the Jindal Institute of Behavioral Sciences, O.P. Jindal Global University, I carry those lessons forward. To unwind, I dance, color mandalas, and talk to friends who ground me. A PhD can feel lonely, but you never have to be alone. I wasn’t lucky; I just kept learning, growing, and trusting that every experience, good or bad, was shaping me into who I was meant to be.”

-Vasundharaa S Nair , PhD in Behavioral Sciences, National Institute of Mental Health and Neurosciences, Bengaluru

Interviewed and written by Aniruddha Mukherjee

“From the start of my Bachelor’s, I was drawn to finance. After completing my B.Tech in Electronics and Communication Engineering in 2009, I briefly worked as a Service Engineer at Medical Equipment and Devices for Philips Healthcare Equipments before deciding to shift toward banking. I joined the Probationary Officer training programme two years later at ICICI Bank while simultaneously pursuing an MBA in Financial Market Practice from IGNOU. Post MBA, I spent four years at ICICI Bank and a year at DCB Bank, gaining valuable exposure to the financial sector.
The curiosity to do research had always been with me, but I didn’t have the privilege to leave my job and pursue it full-time. When I joined Ujjivan Small Finance Bank in 2016, I began seriously considering a PhD. In a field where doctorates are rare, the idea of research in finance was unconventional. Since I was working near Annamalai University, I decided to enroll in a part-time PhD programme there.
My initial proposal explored how banking could drive social transformation among transgender communities, a topic I had studied during my MBA. Though my prospective supervisor appreciated the idea, the committee rejected it due to concerns over sample size and data availability. Soon after my registration, a transfer to West Bengal and the sudden passing of my intended supervisor brought in setbacks.
Despite this, I continued my coursework and later began research on Investment Behaviour of Tribal People in Jharkhand. Being from the state, I had witnessed how many tribal communities remained unaware of financial opportunities and government schemes. I wanted to explore how targeted financial literacy could empower these communities and strengthen the rural economy.
Balancing a full-time role as Branch Manager with fieldwork was challenging. Most weekends were spent traveling to different parts of Jharkhand to conduct surveys. Initially, respondents hesitated to share financial details, but with help from friends fluent in Santali, I earned their trust and gradually built meaningful insights.
While my professional experience aided data analysis, academic writing proved harder. My wife, also pursuing a PhD, became my greatest support, her academic background helped me refine my writing and conceptual depth. Midway through the pandemic, I changed jobs, joining Arohan Financial Services as Product Manager. The transition delayed my research, but regular discussions with my supervisor helped me stay grounded. I completed my PhD in January 2023 and defended it successfully in March 2024.
Looking back, balancing work and research demanded immense discipline. The process also made me realize how academia often measures success by publication count, overlooking the practical challenges researchers face. There is a need to shift from quantity to quality if we want to do meaningful work. Pursuing a PhD part-time requires patience and conviction. Passion, not pressure, is what sustains you through this journey.”

-Vikash Sadhu, PhD in Management, Annamalai University, Chennai

Editor’s Note: Vikash has authored 2 books after his PhD in order to make banking concepts simplified.
-Basics of Banking(ISBN-978-93-5823-9089) published by Books Clinic Publishing in Oct 2024
-Banking Regulation and Compliance( ISBN- 978-93-7254-1991) published by Books Clinic Publishing in Oct 2025

Interviewed and written by Yashee Singh

“PhD, I often say, happened to me serendipitously. My Master’s course in English literature helped deepen my understanding and sustain my interest in literary analysis. It also broadened my perspectives and taught me to observe nuanced socio-cultural, political, psychological and economic implications of narratives from varied genres. This also meant that I had a number of literary interests. So, I wasn’t quite sure what the focal point of my research study would be, if at all.
After finishing my Master’s from University of Calcutta, I began reviewing latest Indian and international books for Book Geeks India. It was on their website that I came across a review of the novel Jasmine Days by Benyamin translated from Malayalam to English by Shahnaz Habib. It was featured as the winner of the JCB Prize for Literature 2018. The novel narrated the story of Sameera Parvin, a young Pakistani woman working as a radio jockey in an unnamed Gulf country that was on the verge of socio-political revolution. Reading this book
made me realize how the stories of South Asian diaspora in the Gulf are relatively unexplored in Indian English fiction. I started looking into this matter enthusiastically and soon after, I stumbled upon Temporary People (2017) by Deepak Unnikrishnan. Gradually, I discovered numerous fictional texts in English that were largely neglected in terms of a holistic PhD study. It was at that moment I knew I had hit a jackpot and my research interest began to take shape. Once I found my theme, I knew I wanted to pursue it with a supervisor who shared that same vision.
I started to discuss this idea with potential supervisors in Literary Studies Departments abroad while preparing the necessary documents for Fall Intake 2019. Considering the nascency of my idea and how under-developed it was, I faced difficulty in finding acceptance. Despite positive responses, I was unable to get serious consent or recommendation. Then I came across an advertisement for a PhD opportunity at Indira Gandhi National Open University, New Delhi. The university conducted its own written entrance examination regardless of a valid NET certificate. I cleared it and was invited for the interview. One of the professors on the panel had read a book from my proposed corpus. That small connection sparked a meaningful conversation. However, since my idea was less heard of, the panel raised some significant queries which I had to defend. I returned to Kolkata with cautious hope and was delighted to receive an acceptance letter from the university soon after.
In 2019, I moved to New Delhi to begin my PhD journey as a full-time research scholar. My research examined how Indian writers portrayed the lives of South Asian migrant characters across different classes in the Gulf as they tried to navigate their way through issues of diasporic marginalisation, absolute lack of emigration policies and poor labour laws.
The PhD coursework was rigorous, filled with assignments and deadlines, but also deeply fulfilling. It was an engaging, hands-on learning experience that gave me the opportunity to explore, question, speculate and come to my own understanding. It also provided a platform to connect with scholars and faculty members from different disciplines across several universities in Delhi and elsewhere whose honest suggestions were always valuable food for
thought. Those six months left an indelible mark on me as a researcher and as an individual. Delhi, despite its fast pace, was a living example of a melting pot of varied diasporas. It welcomed me warmly and gave me confidence, hope and inspiration. Apart from weekdays on campus, I would unwind on weekends by dividing my time between exploring trinkets at Sarojini Nagar and sipping tea at my paternal grandmother’s residence in Peeragarhi Chowk.
My first interaction with my supervisor, Professor Neera Singh, was at her office after the Induction Programme. She was also the Director of the School of Humanities and Head of English Department at that time and I was her last PhD student. She took a look at the draft of my PhD proposal and advised me: “Your thesis is like your child. You are going to have to nurture it, look after it and do everything needed for its well-being and as your supervisor, I’ll be more like your mentor, guide,
advisor, whatever you call it. You’ll come to me from time to time and I’ll guide you with regard to your progress. But it is your baby, you will have to do everything that is best for it and deliver it. I will be there to help at all times.” That analogy, at the time, felt like an abstraction. Later, I realized how true her words were and what a labour of love and dedication pursuing a PhD was, especially when life kept coming in between.
Just as coursework ended, COVID-19 struck. I returned to Kolkata which disrupted my research. Accessing books or other resources was difficult in addition to some unexpected massive personal struggles that both my supervisor and I were individually braving. Travel restrictions and a deteriorating mental health made things frustrating but despite the challenges, it was good to see that my supervisor was just a call away. Her patience through all my silly queries, her consistent and helpful suggestions and useful advice, helped strengthen our bond and give direction to my research. Discipline became my anchor in overcoming hurdles. I sent her progress reports every six months and spoke to her whenever possible. Almost two years later, when I finally sat in her office again in 2023, it was the most reassuring moment of my PhD journey.
It is a known fact that PhD scholars of Central or other universities of India receive a meagre scholarship. So, to expand my avenues, I gave up the scholarship and began taking up visiting faculty positions. These roles not only helped in funding my research but also gave me a glimpse into a whole new side of academic life as I juggled between being a student and a teacher at the same time. I successfully defended my thesis in September 2023 and was awarded my doctorate in early 2024. Looking back, I realize how much conviction it took to begin with and to remain steady on this journey. My thesis has now been published as a monograph by Routledge titled “A Marxist Perspective on Select Fiction by Indian Writers from the Gulf: Narratives of the ‘Permanently Temporary’ Migrants.”
As a researcher, I have noticed that the Indian research scenario is booming with enthusiastic and talented research scholars. However, there is disparity along many lines. There is an urgent need to stop viewing research in non-STEM disciplines as “non-research” as it does not align with the interdisciplinary goals of the NEP. This also slows advancement of critical understanding in terms of social change. In the long run, particularly in topics related to diasporas, this affects the process of constructing public policy. There is a need to improve the overall outlook towards research in humanities and social sciences.
To those starting their PhD journey, I can only suggest that they should always remain a learner. Over emphasis on idealistic research goals will only add to existent paper work and may become a hindrance in terms of achieving the real objectives of research which is experimentation, analysis and learning. Research thrives on curiosity and humility. If you choose to stay a learner, you will always remain true to being a researcher.”

-Tasnima Yasmin, PhD in English Literature, Indira Gandhi National Open University, New Delhi

Interviewed and written by Yashee Singh

“I never planned on becoming a researcher. After school, I chose Chartered Accountancy and Company Secretary courses, and by the age of 22, I was fully qualified to have a stable career, but I wanted something different. I realised that the corporate world didn’t suit me. I wanted to keep learning. One of my friends mentioned the idea of doing a PhD, and I thought it might let me experience college life again, something I had missed while doing CA.
Economics always fascinated me. After clearing the admission process, I joined the PhD programme in Economics at IIM Kozhikode. It was unconventional because I had never done a Bachelor’s and a Master’s degree. It later caused problems when a PostDoc offer in Germany was withdrawn when they realised my academic path was non-traditional. Eventually, I even completed a B.Com from IGNOU after finishing my PhD.
IIM Kozhikode became home quickly. My father’s job had taken me across states, so adjusting was easy. I learned Malayalam and connected deeply with the people around me. The first two years were coursework-heavy, and we didn’t choose supervisors until late in the second year. I debated between behavioural and agricultural economics but chose agriculture because it felt closer to my roots. I had seen the struggles of farmers in rural Andhra Pradesh and wanted my work to mean something to them.
My research examined how farmers use smartphones, why many hesitate to adopt technology, and what difference it makes to productivity. I visited villages, interviewed farmers, and ran surveys to understand their decisions. Then the pandemic hit. My fieldwork stopped overnight, and months of uncertainty followed. Shifting to phone surveys helped me complete the data collection, but the delay stretched my PhD to seven years.
My supervisor was meticulous. He examined every line, comma, and reference. It was exhausting, but it taught me precision. I also had to learn econometrics and data analysis largely on my own. We were the first batch of economics PhD students at the institute, so there were no seniors to consult. That independence, though difficult, became my greatest teacher.
The highest point came when the faculty council debated whether I should receive a PhD or the older FPM title because I had no Bachelor’s degree. Most professors spoke up for me, and the director approved my PhD. That moment, when the whole campus supported me, was unforgettable.
But there were low points too. During my third year, isolation and uncertainty led to depression. What pulled me through was my support system which included my batchmates, seniors, local friends, and clubs I had joined in Kozhikode. I took up running and cycling, completed half-marathons, and explored every corner of the city.
Now, as an Assistant Professor, I tell my students to choose their supervisor not just by topic but by personality. The match matters. Second, say yes to new opportunities even when you don’t know how to do them yet. You’ll learn along the way. That attitude helped me co-found startups outside my field and expand beyond economics.
If I look at my PhD journey from the outside, I see a person who fell often, got up again, and kept learning. I began my PhD wanting to help farmers but realised the person who benefited the most was me. The process taught me humility and patience. True success in research is not the number of publications, but how much you evolve as a person.”

-Jayanth Shiva, PhD in Economics, Indian Institute of Management, Kozhikode

Interviewed by Aniruddha Mukherjee and written by Aditya Undru