No Campus, No Problem: How We Proved Our Worth One Job at a Time

Imagine being part of a new branch of a reputed institute that nobody’s heard of, one that doesn’t even have a permanent campus yet.

That was my reality thirty years ago. I’d enrolled in the Indian Institute of Mass Communication (IIMC) for a journalism course, but unlike those chosen to study in Delhi, I was placed in Dhenkanal—a small, quiet town in Odisha that seemed worlds away from the bustling capital.

At first, it felt like an accident, a twist of fate that had landed me far from where I thought I belonged. But sometimes, the best lessons come from places—and experiences—you never expected.

Curious? Read on. The rest, as they say, is a story worth telling.

Dhenkanal: A Campus in the Making

Now, let’s set the scene. Dhenkanal wasn’t exactly a bustling academic hub.

The facilities were minimal, to put it mildly. The campus was scattered across various temporary buildings with no clear sense of unity. Everything was makeshift: the offices, the classrooms, and the boys’ and girls’ hostels.

While a permanent site had been earmarked for future construction, we felt we were living in perpetual anticipation.

Faculty presence was sparse. Most instructors from Delhi preferred not to make the long journey to Dhenkanal, and the lack of accessible travel options and infrastructure made it hard to blame them.

In a way, this absence became another aspect of our “learning experience.” We had to figure things out, often teaching ourselves as much as we were taught.

Except for one, though. Professor J.S. Verma was a rare and steady figure. Based in Dhenkanal, he took it upon himself to guide us, critiquing our essays and news reports with precision and much red ink.

He was committed and determined that we learn how to communicate effectively with the masses. Thanks to him, we developed the grit to persist and improve, and I’m deeply grateful for that time under his mentorship.

Now, you might wonder, Why Dhenkanal?

?It wasn’t exactly an educational destination. Well, Dhenkanal was the parliamentary constituency of K.P. Singhdeo, the Minister of Information and Broadcasting then. Known for his humility and forward-thinking, K.P. Singhdeo wanted to bring quality education to his hometown.

His idea was to put Dhenkanal on the map and draw attention to Odisha. And he did.

Embracing Adversity

I don’t share this to complain—far from it. Dhenkanal taught me resilience, adaptability, and the art of making do with what you have. These were not lessons from textbooks but from daily life. Adjusting to less-than-ideal conditions was one of the best training grounds for a life in journalism—and in life.

That was our reality, and at first, it stung. But instead of dwelling on what we didn’t have, we focused on what we could do.

What we found at Dhenkanal wasn’t just an education in journalism. It was a life lesson in resilience, in adapting, and in the incredible power of people to make a place truly exceptional. It’s why, looking back, I can honestly say: that “accident” was one of the best things that ever happened to me.

Making a Name for Ourselves

A year after we graduated, I started job-hunting in Delhi. Imagine the reaction: “Dhenkanal? Where’s that?”

A few assumed my credentials were fake. Others thought I was trying to ride on the coattails of IIMC Delhi.

It took time and much explaining to prove that IIMC Dhenkanal was just as legitimate.

But something fascinating happened. By the time the next batch entered the job market, a handful of Dhenkanal graduates had already established a reputation for quality and professionalism. One senior editor admitted, “I was initially sceptical, but if this batch is anything to go by, I’m looking forward to hiring more graduates from Dhenkanal.”

We were building our institute’s credibility, one job at a time.

People Make the Place

This journey reinforced a truth I’d carry with me:

People make an institution, not the other way around. Yes, we often seek out renowned schools, companies, or organisations, hoping their reputation will rub off on us. But here’s the counterintuitive insight—the real value of an institution lies in the people who populate it.

We, the students, were giving IIMC Dhenkanal its name just as much as it was giving us ours.

And this isn’t unique to schools. The same holds true for workplaces, communities, and even families. When you bring your best, the reputation of the place rises. It’s an empowering realisation that transforms how you view both the places you come from and the places you’re headed to.

Life Lessons Beyond the Classroom

Looking back, Dhenkanal equipped me with a toolkit of life skills that went beyond journalism. The lack of comfort forced me to adapt, taught me resilience, and reminded me that comfort and progress are rarely found together.

These are the kinds of experiences that shape us, often quietly. They teach us to navigate the inevitable challenges life throws our way, not by wishing things were different but by adapting to what’s right in front of us. It’s why we learn to take things one day at a time, focusing less on what we don’t have and more on making the best of what we do.

If you’re on a journey of your own—be it career, education, or life in general—take heart. The struggles now are the lessons you’ll lean on later.

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