I landed in Lawrence, Kansas, in January 1992 with $92 in my pocket and a deal with my father—if he funded my first two semesters of tuition, I’d figure out the rest. Being 18 and foolish has its advantages, I suppose. I had no idea how I would pull it off, but I had a stubborn belief that I’d make it work.
Reality hit fast. I learned just how expensive being an international student was. Rent, food, textbooks—it all added up faster than I could wrap my head around. I stretched my dollars as far as they could go, but soon, without enough to pay for tuition, I was staring down a future where I might have to pack up and go home.
That’s when I learned from a graduate student friend that securing a research assistantship could significantly reduce tuition. The catch? I needed a professor willing to hire me for at least 16 hours a week, even though I had zero research experience.
So, I did what anyone would—I hustled.
With the audacity only a teenager can muster, I walked into the office of Dr. Gunda Georg, one of the world’s leading researchers on breast cancer, and asked for a research assistantship. She had no funding. So, I made a counteroffer—I’d work for free.
For three months, through holidays and semester breaks, I showed up every day, unpaid but determined. At the beginning of the next semester, she called me into her office.
“I’m impressed by your dedication,” she said, “and I’ve found enough to pay you for five hours a week.”
It was a start—but I needed at least 16 to qualify for tuition benefits.
She looked at me and, with a German matter-of-factness, said, “Go knock on some more doors.”
And so I did, eventually coming across Dr. Michael Doughty, who was looking to hire a library research assistant. Did I have experience? Not exactly. But fake it till you make it, right? I convinced him I did, and he offered me the job for eight hours a week. Still three hours short.
So, I negotiated. I told him that Dr. Georg had already offered me six hours (which wasn’t exactly true—yet) and asked if he could stretch my appointment to ten. He agreed.
With that in hand, I walked straight back to Dr. Georg’s office.
“Dr. Doughty just gave me ten hours. If you match with six, I qualify for in-state tuition.”
She agreed.
And just like that, I hacked the system, secured in-state tuition, and survived college.
This, in India, we call Jugaad—the art of being resourceful, of making things happen despite limitations, of MacGyvering life when the odds are stacked against you. It’s not just about problem-solving; it’s about mindset, resilience, and ingenuity—traits that no AI or algorithm can replicate.
Jugaad in the Age of AI
Today, we live in a world where everything is automated, optimized, and delivered at the tap of a button. Need an answer? AI will generate it. Need directions? Your GPS has you covered. Need food? It’ll arrive in 15 minutes.
Convenience is great. But what happens when the answer isn’t in a search bar? When the solution isn’t obvious? When you actually have to negotiate, pivot, and think on your feet?
Jugaad isn’t just a skill—it’s a muscle, and we’re at risk of letting it atrophy.
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AI can retrieve knowledge, but it can’t teach ingenuity.
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A search engine can show job listings, but it won’t teach you how to get hired when you’re underqualified.
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A chatbot can offer pre-written networking tips, but it won’t teach you how to read a room, spot an opportunity, or negotiate your way into one.
So the real question is: Are we raising a generation of students who can think, adapt, and find unconventional solutions, or are we creating a culture that waits for an app to fix it?
How Do We Teach Jugaad?
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Create Constraint-Driven Learning: Jugaad thrives in ambiguity. Instead of structured assignments with single correct answers, students should be forced to face real-world problems with no clear solution. Constraint-driven learning—where they must adapt, improvise, and find a way forward—builds mental resilience.
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Encourage Failure as a Step, Not an End: Jugaad is built on trial and error. But many students today fear making mistakes because everything in their academic life is about getting it right. We need to redefine failure as iteration, not defeat.
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Shift from Passive Consumption to Active Problem-Solving: Today’s students consume more content than any generation before them. But passive learning is not resourcefulness. They need real-world engagement—networking, internships, community-driven projects—where they have to navigate ambiguity and apply what they know in unexpected ways.
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Teach Negotiation & the Art of the Ask: My story wasn’t about getting lucky. It was about seeing opportunities, creating leverage, and negotiating my way in. These are life skills, not just job skills. If students don’t learn to ask for what they need, they will never get it.
