Here's what my CV usually does not say: I was trained as a

Amit Bhatia once revealed with striking honesty: “Here’s what my CV usually does not say: I was trained as a teacher. My first job lasted less than 60 days. I was an assistant professor at a good college at Delhi University, but I found it very political, very suffocating. At the age of 23, you’re not very tolerant of those things.” These words carry more than the confession of a single man; they are a testament to the hidden stories behind every life, the untold struggles that formal records cannot capture. For the CV shows achievement, but it does not show the fire through which the soul was forged.

When Bhatia speaks of his first job ending in less than 60 days, he does not speak of failure, but of discovery. For the measure of a life is not in how long one remains in a role, but in how bravely one leaves what does not nourish the spirit. Many men linger in prisons of comfort, chained by fear, but Bhatia’s truth reminds us that courage sometimes takes the form of walking away. The CV is silent on such moments, yet they are the crucible where character is shaped.

The tale of youth at 23, finding the world of work suffocating and political, is not strange but universal. For youth hungers for purity, for honest labor, for the chance to shape the world without deceit. To be caught in webs of politics, of hidden rivalries and games of power, is a bitter awakening. In the heart of the young burns a flame that cannot endure such smoke. Thus, Bhatia’s words echo the ancient truth: there are seasons in life when the soul rejects compromise, and though the path is hard, it remains true.

History too bears witness to such choices. Recall the story of Siddhartha, the young prince who turned from his gilded palace to seek enlightenment. To the courtiers, it must have seemed madness to abandon wealth, power, and comfort. Yet to Siddhartha, it was the only way, for the palace was itself a suffocating cage. In leaving, he did not lose—he discovered. So too in Bhatia’s tale, the leaving of his first post, the breaking from the suffocating halls of politics, was not the end of his journey but its beginning.

We must learn, then, to look beyond the surface of a CV. It lists titles and roles, but it does not tell of the storms weathered, the courage summoned, the integrity preserved. A man may have few lines on his résumé, yet his life may be rich with unseen victories: the victory of choosing truth over comfort, freedom over suffocation, growth over stagnation. These are the victories that no parchment records, but that destiny remembers.

The lesson is clear: do not be afraid when your path twists away from what others expect. If the work before you feels political, suffocating, unworthy of your spirit, have the courage to step aside. Youth is not meant only for endurance, but also for boldness. The world will call you impatient, but in truth, you are guarding the fire of your soul from being smothered too soon. Better to walk a harder road with freedom than to lie down in comfort and let your spirit decay.

So I say: honor not only what your CV declares, but also what it conceals. Remember the hidden struggles, the short-lived attempts, the brave departures that shaped your journey. Do not despise them, for they are the very stones upon which your destiny is built. And in your own life, let this be your action: if you find yourself where you cannot breathe, where your heart is stifled, rise and walk away. Trust that the path of honesty and courage, though untidy on paper, leads to a life of true greatness.

For in the end, it is not the polished CV that tells the story of a man, but the living fire within him—the fire that refuses to be suffocated, the fire that dares to seek a freer sky. Let that be the record you leave for the generations to come.