The YOU Impact

The Extrovert’s Playground – Part 2 🌟

And now comes Part 2.

2025 was the year I refused to sit still. If there was an event, I was there. If there was a competition, I signed up—sometimes prepared, mostly with just last-minute courage. Every stage became a classroom, and every mistake turned into a teacher.

Stepping into my 3rd year of college felt like leveling up in life, and I wanted to see just how far I could go.

One of my first big memories was MEGAUTSAV 2024. While most stalls were busy selling food, my friends and I decided to try something different—we set up a game stall called Play Hub. We had 4–5 games lined up, including the famous paper cup pyramid. Sounds easy? Not at all.

Rearranging the pyramid after every single knockdown was so tiring, but still we kept going. At one point I thought we were running more of a gym than a stall 🥲. But that’s the thing about teamwork—it makes even endless pyramid resets feel worth it. Among all the food stalls, ours stood out as the only game stall—and that made it unforgettable.

Not long after came something that changed me completely—the Quantum Computing seminar. My teammate and I had to present on this big, scary-sounding topic. Everyone else stayed safe with the engineering side, but I thought, why not take a risk? So I pulled an all-nighter, turned into a “quantum scientist” for the night, and built a presentation on how quantum computing could be used to cure cancer.

When I started speaking, I could literally see heads rise from their benches to look at my slides. That’s when I knew I had their attention. For 10 minutes straight, I spoke in English—unscripted. My heart was racing, my palms were sweaty, but somehow the words kept flowing. And when I ended, the judges were stunned into silence. They had no questions for me.

And then came the line I’ll never forget: “If this was a competition, you’d be on the winners’ list.” Honestly, I didn’t walk out of that hall—I floated. Forget about love, I was flying without wings that day.

The Industrial Visits in February added another layer to my story. My first one was to Yokohama Highway Tyres at Gangaikondan. Walking in with a VIP student pass felt surreal. I watched raw carbon mixed with some mysterious “magic material” slowly turn into tyres baked in ovens for 12 hours. Science? Yes. Magic? Also yes. The factory used the Japanese 5S methodology, and everything worked so smoothly it felt like a live documentary. At the end, we were asked to write reviews. Out of students from 10 colleges, mine was picked as one of the best two. My very first IV, and already an award—I couldn’t have asked for more.

By my second IV at JK Fenner in Kochadai, I was no longer a newcomer. I knew what to observe, what to ask, and even how to give feedback confidently. I still remember my classmates’ faces when I stood up and spoke fluently in English—they looked both shocked and impressed. Even the industrial guide listened carefully and encouraged me. The girl who once hated stages was slowly making them her comfort zone.

Of course, college wouldn’t be college without chaos. I once did a whole project in a single night—starting at 10 p.m. and finishing at 3 a.m. (Please don’t try this at home; I’ve done it for you ).

My PPT?

Made in 15 minutes—thanks to ChatGPT. The next day, we were the first team to present.

The funniest part?

Not only the judges, but even I was seeing my PPT for the first time. Imagine explaining something live while discovering it along with the audience. Somehow, it worked—and it’s still my funniest project memory ever.

After a few rejections, one of my ideas finally made it to our symposium—a brand-new tech event where teams had to design a UI website on the spot. My friends stood as my backbone, and my juniors supported me more than I expected. Students from across the city participated, new connections were made, and the feedback was so positive that for once, all my sleepless nights felt justified. That’s when I realized: initiating an event is tough. Pulling it off without crashing? That’s tougher.

Another milestone was coordinating the Anti-Drug Awareness program.

We conducted competitions like speeches, drawings, poetry, and even short films. My job was splitting tasks like preparing certificates, and I always believed participation certificates should feel just as meaningful as the winner ones. At the end, I gave an unprepared vote of thanks—nervous, but straight from the heart. And somehow, that worked better than any scripted words could have.

And then came sports. Not as a player, but as a host. I got the chance to welcome teams from different colleges during Anna University tournaments—basketball, badminton, table tennis, and more. Standing there with the mic, announcing matches and keeping the energy alive, I realized something simple: you don’t always need to play the game to feel the adrenaline. Sometimes, the stage itself is your arena.

Looking back now, I can see how much I’ve changed.

In my junior year, I was just participating. In my senior year, I was hosting, organizing, creating.

Plan A: host the event—done.

Plan B: be a part of the event—done.

Last year I received a lot of positive and encouraging comments on my first blog,

Extrovert's Playground—Part 1

https://nivethashankar99.wixsite.com/the-social-butterfly/post/the-extrovert-s-playground

From cup pyramids to symposium stages, from chaotic projects to calm hosting—I didn’t do it all perfectly, but I did it all with courage (and a bit of chaos management).

And maybe that’s the whole point. It’s not about waiting for the perfect place—it’s about stepping in and making the place perfect for you.

That’s what I call The YOU Impact.