Typically, a person worries about whether they can clear an exam, whether the competition will be too tough, and whether their preparation is sufficient. But, today, that anxiety feels smaller than the uncertainty surrounding exams themselves: will the test even take place, will there be a paper leak, will results ever be announced, and will the entire process withstand legal disputes and cancellations.
For many candidates, life is passing by just waiting—with days becoming months, months becoming years, and sometimes even decades.
Almost a fortnight ago, the Punjab and Haryana High Court quashed the recruitment process for 613 Assistant Professors in English in Haryana, after only around 145 candidates had qualified for the vacancies. The court observed that the state had violated mandatory University Grants Commission (UGC) norms, struck down the recruitment, and called for a fresh selection process.
I am only of the 145 candidates to qualify. And as the 12 May verdict throws me back into uncertainty, it reminds us that today, the fear is not only of failing an exam, but of whether the process itself will survive till the end.
'2 Years of My Life Ended in Ruin'
On 2 August 2024, the Haryana Public Service Commission (HPSC) released a notification for the recruitment of 613 Assistant Professors in English at government colleges across the state. For nearly two years, I put my life on hold.
I survived the exhausting preliminary screening, then the descriptive subject knowledge test, and by the time I stepped out of my final interview on 29 January 2026, I felt something I hadn't felt in years—relief.
Since only 145 candidates qualified for the mains and went through the interview for 613 seats, it seemed almost certain that I would finally join as an assistant professor of English in Haryana.
But the final results never came.
In January, a writ petition was filed in the Punjab and Haryana High Court, seeking the quashing of the entire process. The High Court objected that the HPSC had not followed the recruitment process prescribed under the 2018 UGC regulations for appointing assistant professors, and had instead substituted it with Haryana's own exam-heavy system.
With that judgment, two years of our efforts went in vain because of the HPSC. Who knows when the exam will happen again, or what guarantee there is that nothing will go wrong this time?
'Why Should We Pay?'
Just because I can clear a gruelling multi-stage exam again does not mean I should be forced to do so time and again. The sheer time, energy, and mental strength invested in preparing for an exam of this calibre is insane.
Why must those of us who have already proven our mettle through every single tier of stress and strain be cut off from our families yet again? Why must we be dragged back into an endless loop of preparation?
When an aspirant is pushed well into their late 20s or 30s and is still stuck in this infinite, agonising loop of just trying to secure a basic livelihood, when do we actually get to live our lives?
The absolute prime of our youth is being systematically withered, crushed, and spent within the four walls of a study room, chasing a finish line that moves every time we get close to it.
We are not just roll numbers on a PDF. We are real people whose lives have been brought to a sudden, painful standstill. I look at my peers in our group, and their stories break my heart.
'Struggle For Survival'
For someone from a modest background, a government job in higher education is anything but easy.
Completing a master’s degree, clearing Junior Research Fellowship (JRF), securing admission to a PhD programme, and preparing for a government exam alongside take years of hard work, patience, and sacrifice.
After clearing every stage, learning that the recruitment was quashed shatters not just dreams but the plans built around them.
I am the first PhD scholar in my family, and this would have been the first government job in our home. This feels feels like the collapse of a dream my entire family held on to for years.
It takes immense sacrifice for parents from lower-middle-class families to educate their children in top colleges. For families like ours, a government job is not only employment, but also stability and dignity.
And I am not alone. A fellow aspirant, talking about her pain, told me, “I am a mother of a two-year-old. My parents, husband, and in-laws took care of my baby while I studied in the little time I could find between my job and household responsibilities.”
Who is to be held accountable for the stolen years and the crushed spirits of Haryana's own students? In reality, we are neither going to get an answer to this question, nor anyone is going to be punished for stealing precious years from our lives.
(All 'My Report' branded stories are submitted by citizen journalists to The Quint. Though The Quint inquires into the claims/allegations from all parties before publishing, the report and the views expressed above are the citizen journalist's own. The Quint neither endorses nor is responsible for the same.)