Here I am, standing at the edge of my final year — a few months away from earning my degree — and yet, I find myself caught between fear, confusion, and an overwhelming sense of uncertainty. As a student from a tier-3 government law college, I’ve come to realise that the path ahead is far steeper than I had imagined. The firms I once dreamt of working with seem almost unreachable, not because I lack the willingness to learn or the dedication to work hard, but because opportunities rarely knock on doors like mine.

For the longest time, I believed that moot courts would be my anchor — my way of proving that talent and perseverance could speak louder than institutional privilege. I thought that competing against the best would at least help me be seen. But as reality unfolds, I’m learning that the victories that matter most in the legal world often belong to those from the National Law Universities. Their wins add weight to their CVs; their names carry recognition. Mine, despite effort and determination, does not.

It’s not that I consider myself exceptional — but what disheartens me is that I’ve barely had the chance to try. I’ve applied relentlessly, reached out to countless firms, big and small, yet rejections have outnumbered opportunities. I’ve completed courses taught by top-tier associates, stayed updated with recruitment trends, studied firm practices, and even explored new areas of law hoping to align myself with where opportunities might open up. And still, somehow, every time I take a step forward, it feels like something invisible pulls me two steps back.

It’s a strange space to occupy — to want so deeply to belong to a profession that feels so distant. But despite the fear, despite the exhaustion, there’s still a small part of me that refuses to give up. I just need to understand what the right way forward really looks like from here.