Abhyudaya: Learning through empathy

Sometimes you meet someone younger and it hits you: they’re the new, upgraded version, and you’re just an older model. My first meeting with my mentee, Priyanshi, in SPJIMR’s Abhyudaya initiative, was exactly that: two hours of laughter, thoughtful pauses, and small discoveries that reminded me how inspiring genuine connection can be.

When I first arrived at her home, I was greeted not only by Priyanshi but also by her mother, whose warmth instantly made me feel as though I had known her for years. She welcomed me with the kind of effortless kindness that puts you at ease before a single word is exchanged. Within minutes, I was offered a chair, a glass of water, and a smile.

And then came Mochitaro, their pet rabbit: fluffy, calm, and instantly the star of our meeting. Priyanshi introduced her like a proud parent, and I couldn’t help but laugh as she nibbled curiously at my shoe strap. It was a small moment, yet it dissolved every trace of formality between us. By the time Mochitaro hopped off, the ice had fully melted.

What followed was an unhurried conversation that moved from everyday life to dreams, from family to fear, and from school to the future. Priyanshi spoke about her classes, which included nine subjects across three terms, and an upcoming exam that would determine her academic stream. She was at that crossroads every student remembers: the point where one’s choices begin to shape one’s story.

When I asked her what she wanted to become, her face lit up with certainty. “I want to be an IAS officer,” she said, and then added, “or maybe a lawyer… maybe both!” She spoke with a sense of purpose far beyond her years, a quiet confidence that coexisted with curiosity. She wanted to travel, see Japan and Korea, try bungee jumping, and ‘make a lot of money’ as she put it with refreshing honesty. Beneath that ambition, though, was something softer, a desire to explore, to experience everything life had to offer.

As she continued talking, I began to hear about the pace of her days: school, homework, coaching, house chores, Abhyudaya assignments and yet, somehow, she still found time to write. She spoke about managing it all without complaint, her tone steady, her eyes bright. I remember looking at her in wonderment. Here was a 15-year-old balancing a schedule that would overwhelm many adults and still finding time to nurture her creative side.

She spoke with a quiet strength, a fire in her belly, and an unspoken determination that radiated through her words. It struck me that this was someone immensely self-motivated, someone who didn’t need to be told what to do or when to dream. The last thing she needed was a mentor to draw up a plan for her. The most I could offer, I realised, was to walk alongside her, to offer a kind word when she stumbled, a sounding board when she felt uncertain, and a steady presence through the ebbs and flows of her journey.

Then came the moment that left me truly awed. Almost as an afterthought, she mentioned that she had written and self-published a 43-chapter novel on Amazon. At fifteen. Quietly. Without telling anyone.

I remember staring at her, speechless. “You wrote a whole book?” I asked. She nodded, almost shyly, and pulled up the listing on her phone. As she scrolled, I realised that this wasn’t just talent, it was discipline, imagination, and courage rolled into one. She had created an entire fictional world by herself, powered only by curiosity and passion. I told her that stories deserve to be seen and that she should share her work with her teachers and friends. She smiled but said she was afraid of being judged. We spoke for a long time about confidence, about how sometimes the fear of standing out keeps us from shining. By the end, she promised to tell at least one person at school about her book.

Before we wrapped up, she showed me her guitar, a birthday gift she hadn’t yet learned to play. “Maybe next time you visit, I’ll play something,” she said. I encouraged her to start small: one chord, one tune, one song. It wasn’t just about learning an instrument; it was about taking that first small, brave step toward something new.

Toward the end of our time together, I gave her a small reflective task: to write a letter to her 25-year-old self, describing what she hoped her life would look like ten years from now. She nodded enthusiastically, saying she already had ideas for what to include.

When I finally stood to leave, her mother insisted I stay longer. We spoke for a while about Priyanshi’s childhood, her interests, and the things that made her happy. She spoke with pride, but also with the humility of someone who has worked hard to build a loving home. As I said goodbye, Mochitaro darted past my feet, and we all laughed again. For a moment, I didn’t feel like a mentor or a visitor; just someone sitting in a home filled with kindness, warmth, and hope.

Walking back, I realised how deeply the experience had affected me. Mentorship, I thought, isn’t about instruction or advice; it’s about listening, about seeing someone for who they are and who they want to become. That afternoon, I didn’t just meet a mentee; I met a storyteller, a dreamer, a girl brimming with questions and quiet strength.

One thing I now understand for certain: Priyanshi will have as much, if not a greater, impact on me as I will on her. I cannot wait to learn more on this journey we’ve embarked on together; one built not on teaching but on growing side by side.

SPJIMR’s Abhyudaya initiative frequently emphasises the importance of ‘learning through empathy’. I now understand what that truly means. It’s about stepping out of your structured life and entering someone else’s with openness, humility, and curiosity. It’s about finding that bridge between two worlds, where privilege meets potential and both walk away changed.

For those two hours, sitting in that little home with Priyanshi, her mother, and Mochitaro, I felt something shift. I went there hoping to guide and left feeling grounded, inspired, and grateful. If this is what learning beyond the classroom feels like, then I hope to keep returning to it, again and again.

About Abhyudaya

SPJIMR’s Abhyudaya is a community-based initiative that provides mentoring and holistic after-school education to bright, underprivileged children (Sitaras = Stars), from low-income neighbourhoods in Mumbai’s K-West ward (Andheri and surrounding areas). Mentoring with Abhyudaya is mandatory for the first-year participants of the Post Graduate Programme in Management (PGDM) at SPJIMR. Each first-year PGDM participant is assigned a Sitara to mentor for the entire year. This is a transformative, experiential learning course designed to develop an understanding of urban poverty and foster social sensitivity in our future business leaders.

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