In 2009, my father was diagnosed with kidney disease. He had to stop working. For the next ten years, we lived off his savings and some smart financial manoeuvring. I don’t think I fully understood the weight of that until I started earning.

I joined Sprinklr on June 3, 2019.

The first few years taught me something basic but important — sincerity matters. Showing up, taking ownership, finishing what you start. It sounds obvious. But I’ve seen enough people coast to know it isn’t common. Sprinklr rewarded it. I got promotions, a good salary, and eventually a move to Austin.

It also taught me something less flattering. A lot of my ambition came from comparison. I remember pulling my manager aside and telling him that another engineer was getting the kind of work I wanted. Instead of dismissing me, he gave me a chance. For the next few years, I got some of the best work of my career. Looking back, I think the important thing wasn’t the envy itself. It was being honest about what I wanted and asking for it.

My friends at other companies used to dread Mondays. I didn’t understand what they meant for a long time.

Four and a half years there. I kept thinking I’d leave sooner. I didn’t, and I’m glad. It gave me time to learn another thing — that how you treat people who have nothing to do with your immediate work matters a lot. The coworker in a different team, the person you’ll never get credit for helping. Those relationships compound quietly.

Then Glean. I’ve been here two and a half years. The product is something I use and believe in, which changes how you work. There is something different about building a product you use every day and would genuinely miss if it disappeared. I’ve grown here in ways I didn’t expect, and struggled in ways I also didn’t expect.

Across these seven years, I bought a car. Then a house. The house matters more than the car. For a long time, home felt temporary. Now there is a place that is ours. I started with very little. My family had very little for a long time. Now there is something real, something I built.

What did I give up? Calm. That’s the honest answer. Seven years of always being on, always moving, always having something to prove or deliver. I didn’t notice it going. I only notice it now.

I don’t regret the work. I’m proud of it. But seven years is a long time to keep going without pausing to look around.