The mountain air in Coorg carries a different kind of clarity and for me, it revealed a path I never expected to walk.
Before drones, there was the ring. I spent years as a boxer with the kind of dedication that rewrites your DNA. Every morning began with roadwork. Every evening ended with bruised knuckles and burning lungs. Boxing taught me that feeling lost doesn’t mean you’re losing, it means you’re somewhere new. It left me with discipline, focus, and the ability to keep going when things feel unfamiliar.
That somewhere new turned out to be Dronacharya Tech Hub in Bangalore, where I’d discover the world of drone training.
Fresh out of my BCA program, I walked through those doors with zero knowledge. I didn’t know how to fly a drone for the first time. Couldn’t tell you what a flight controller was. Had never seen anyone build a drone from components. And that’s exactly what made what happened next so remarkable.
I still remember watching my first workshop — an integrator connecting parts I couldn’t name, explaining how each component worked together. Students were learning how to build a drone step by step, working with DIY drone kits spread across their tables. The scattered pieces suddenly became Vikas, our drone, coming to life. I thought: this isn’t just technology. This is innovation in motion. That spark became everything.
The team didn’t point me toward the technical side. They saw someone with discipline and determination, and brought me into operations and administration — the engine room that keeps hands-on drone tech education programs running smoothly.
The early days weren’t easy. Coordinating schedules for beginner drone courses, managing resources, handling workflows, it felt overwhelming. But boxing had already taught me how to learn while losing. I asked questions. Stayed late. Made mistakes and fixed them. Slowly, the chaos became clear. The systems made sense.
I discovered something crucial: you don’t need to build a drone yourself to be part of the innovation. Every drone assembly course properly organised, every inventory tracked and ready, every expense managed, every sales process coordinated, that’s the infrastructure that lets students walk into drone building workshops and actually learn. I became the person who made that infrastructure work, supporting drone technology and everyone else walking through our doors.
Today, I run operations and administration at Dronacharya Tech Hub in Bangalore. I track every rupee spent, manage inventory so DIY drone kits and components are always ready when needed, coordinate sales processes, and handle the daily administrative details that keep drone technology courses in Bangalore running without friction. The same discipline that kept me training when my body begged to stop now keeps the hub running when challenges arise. The same focus that helped me see openings in the ring now helps me spot when expenses are creeping up, when inventory needs restocking, or when bottlenecks might slow us down.
The boxing ring taught me how to fight through rounds. Working in drone training at Dronacharya taught me how to fight through doubt. And this journey showed me that my worth wasn’t defined by what I already knew, but by what I was willing to become.
Now, when I see students power up drones, they’ve built themselves, watching them learn how to fly a drone for the first time, that lift off, that stabilisation — there’s a satisfaction that rivals any boxing victory. Because I know the invisible work that made it possible. The reimbursements I coordinated. The resources I secured. The details I managed so someone else could experience that spark.
From Coorg to the operations desk at Dronacharya Tech Hub, my journey proves something simple: you don’t need to know where you’re going. You just need to be willing to take off. And sometimes, the greatest impact happens not in the spotlight, but in making sure the spotlight never flickers.
I continue my work in operations and administration at Dronacharya Tech Hub in Bangalore, ensuring that every newcomer who walks through the doors carrying the same wide-eyed uncertainty I once did finds a system ready to help them soar.
