An engineer by Profession. Best Emerging author of Kolkotta book carnival 24 and Golden book award for his book A SANGUINE TALE Unfolding The Life of a Project Engineer. My second book A New Dawn Adventure in the Golden years is a Amazon Best seller No #1.The short story story collection Whisper of Diverse tale and Behind the headlines , a thriller are my latest addition to my publications. A Symphony of Life , a collection of Poem is due to be released shortly .I co authored in a numbers of Anthologies
I am constantly being reminded by some of my friends and readers to continue my writing on the above subject . I wrote on the topic purely as I learned from my 36 years of corporate experience , most of them in project construction and later as Project Head and Head of various corporate departments . So my views may not be as per the text book of management .
When I first started this series, my intention was simple—to differentiate between leadership and management in a way that resonates with real-life experiences. Many people use these terms interchangeably, but they are vastly different in essence.
A manager ensures stability, keeping things running as they should. A leader, however, is a force of change, inspiring others to think beyond the routine. Leadership isn’t just about assigning tasks; it’s about igniting confidence in people. While a manager may give orders and expect compliance, a leader makes people want to follow—not out of obligation, but because they believe in the vision.
I have always felt that a leader’s success isn’t measured in numbers but in the impact they leave behind. A great leader doesn’t just manage well—they create more leaders. They challenge the status quo, look beyond rules, and connect with people on an emotional level.
A manager works within systems, ensuring everything functions smoothly. A leader builds cultures, shaping mindsets and nurturing growth. While managers thrive on structure and control, leaders embrace uncertainty, knowing that real progress often comes from stepping into the unknown.
Looking back at what I had shared before, I realize that leadership is about trust, empowerment, and vision. It’s about listening, not just commanding. A leader doesn’t just handle responsibilities—they cultivate potential in others.
With this foundation, I am excited to continue this discussion. In the coming posts, I will delve deeper into practical leadership insights, how leadership qualities can be developed, and real-world examples that distinguish true leaders from mere managers.
Stay with me on this journey, and let’s explore leadership beyond the textbook.
We are taught that honesty is a virtue, that truth is the foundation of trust, and that lies—no matter how small—erode relationships, break families, and corrode societies. But is truth always the right path? And does honesty always serve a purpose?
I once knew a man who lived his life with unwavering integrity. A professor, admired for his wisdom, respected for his principles. He believed in truth—not just as a moral choice, but as an obligation. He never bent reality to make life easier, never softened his words to spare feelings.
One day, a student approached him after class, full of anxiety. She had spent years pursuing a subject she no longer loved, struggling, yet unable to quit due to family pressure. She asked the professor, “Do you think I have a future in this field?”
He looked at her, sighed, and said, “No. You lack the aptitude, and more importantly, the passion. You should consider something else.”
She nodded, thanked him, and walked away.
Weeks later, the news came—she had taken her own life. A note was found beside her, with only a few words: “I was never good enough.”
The professor never spoke about it, but something in him changed. His lectures became shorter, his eyes heavier. He still believed in truth, but I often wondered—did he ever question its worth?
We say that truth is essential, but must it always be spoken? Is honesty a responsibility, or does it sometimes do more harm than good?
Should we always tell the truth, no matter the consequences? Or are there moments when silence—or even a lie—becomes the kinder choice?
We all believe in justice. It is the foundation of a civilized world—the idea that right will prevail and wrong will be punished. But sometimes, justice takes too long. And sometimes, the lines between justice and revenge blur until they become indistinguishable.
Years ago, I knew a man—kind, hardworking, the sort of person who never raised his voice, even when wronged. He built a small business from nothing, spending decades nurturing it with honesty and perseverance. But the world is not always kind to good people. A powerful competitor, backed by influence and money, saw him as an obstacle. Through deception and corruption, they ruined him—stole his clients, tarnished his reputation, even manipulated the legal system against him.
And so, he lost everything.
At first, he tried to fight within the system. He believed that truth would eventually win. But truth, it seemed, was not enough. Every door he knocked on was already closed. Every plea fell on deaf ears. Justice remained an unfulfilled promise, while the one who wronged him thrived.
Then something changed. The quiet, kind man became someone else. He no longer spoke of fairness—only retribution. He waited, watched, gathered information. Slowly, methodically, he struck back. He didn’t break the law, but he found ways to make his enemy suffer—exposing hidden fraud, whispering secrets to the right ears, using the same manipulations that had once destroyed him.
The competitor eventually fell, not by law but by carefully placed ruin. My friend regained his lost reputation, but I noticed something in his eyes—an emptiness, a weariness. He had won, but had he?
Was this justice, or was it simply revenge?
And is there a difference?
If the system fails, do we have the right to take matters into our own hands? Or does fighting wrong with wrong make us no different from those we stand against?
Dreams are what give life meaning. They push us forward, make us strive for something beyond the ordinary. But what happens when the pursuit of a dream comes at a cost too great to bear?
I have seen this struggle up close.
A close friend of mine, a devoted father, spent his entire life working toward a single purpose—to give his son the future he never had. From the moment the child was born, every decision revolved around him. The best schools, the best coaching, the best opportunities—no expense was too great, no sacrifice too small.
And the boy had a dream too. He wanted to study abroad, to make a name for himself in a world far removed from the quiet life his parents had known. His father embraced this dream as his own. He worked overtime, took out loans, cut down on every personal expense imaginable. Family vacations became a thing of the past. Even medical checkups were postponed. He aged before his time, his health suffering in silence, his only comfort being the thought that one day, his son would achieve greatness.
The day finally came. The boy left for his dream university. The father stood at the airport, his eyes filled with both pride and exhaustion. Months passed, then years. The boy flourished in his new world, his visits home growing less frequent. Life moved on, but the sacrifices remained. The father, now much older, had given away his best years. The loans still needed repayment, the body still bore the burden of overwork.
One evening, he sat with me and asked, almost as if speaking to himself, “Did I do the right thing? Was it worth it?”
And I didn’t know what to say.
Is it right for a parent to give up everything for a child’s dream, even at the cost of their own well-being? Should there be a limit to sacrifice, or is true love defined by boundless giving?
What do you think? Should dreams always come first, no matter the cost? Or should there be a balance between ambition and the life that is slipping away in its pursuit?
Rajat Chandra Sarmah’s name stands as a testament to excellence and versatility, spanning a remarkable 36-year career as a distinguished engineer and a flourishing post-retirement journey as an acclaimed author. He was honoured to be selected for the prestigious LEAD (Leadership for Environment and Development) fellowship, sponsored by the Rockefeller Foundation, in recognition of his dedication to sustainable development. Additionally, he attained the distinction of becoming a Fellow of the Institution of Engineers (India) and earned a C-level project management certification from the International Project Management Association (IPMA). From his early days restoring hydroelectric projects to winning international awards for his writing, Rajat’s story is one of relentless passion, perseverance, and reinvention.
Engineering Legacy
Rajat’s engineering journey began in 1985 when he graduated from Assam Engineering College with a degree in Electrical Engineering. He was soon recruited by a central sector power enterprise, stepping into the role of Sub Divisional Officer. One of his earliest milestones was his active involvement in the restoration of two 50 MW units of the flood-damaged Kopili Hydro Electric Project, where he honed his technical skills alongside experienced mentors.
Over the years, Rajat led several monumental projects, including the commissioning of the 3×25 MW Doyang Hydro Electric Plant and managing electro-mechanical works at the 4×150 MW Kameng Hydro Electric Project. His problem-solving prowess shone during his tenure at the Ranganadi Hydro Electric Project, where he tackled significant commissioning challenges. As General Manager of the 275 MW Kopili Hydro Electric Project, Rajat went beyond his technical duties, creating India’s first botanical garden within a power project—a move that combined ecological preservation with industrial operations.
Rajat’s innovative approach extended to renewable energy projects, including the extension of the Agartala Gas Turbine Project into a combined cycle plant and the development of Northeast India’s first megawatt-scale solar plant in Monarchak, Tripura.
The Leap to Literature
After retiring from a career marked by innovation and leadership, Rajat embarked on a new chapter as an author—a decision inspired by an internal drive to excel in literature, a subject he had struggled with in his school years. His debut book, A Sanguine Tale: Unfolding the Life of a Project Engineer, chronicled his experiences in Northeast India’s remote, serene landscapes. The biography received accolades, including the Golden Book Award 2024 and Emerging Writer of the Year at CLC 2024, and was translated into multiple languages, including Spanish, French, and Chinese.
With the success of his first book, Rajat continued his literary journey, publishing A New Dawn: Adventure of the Golden Years (an Amazon #1 bestseller), a short story collection (Whisper of the Diverse Tale), a poetry book (A Symphony of Life), and a thriller (Behind the Headlines). His literary achievements earned him prestigious awards such as the International Tagore Award on Literature 2024, 21st Century Emily Dickinson Award, and Beacon of Hope Award.
Transitioning from Engineering to Writing
The shift from technical problem-solving to creative storytelling wasn’t without challenges. “Project management and literature are opposite sides of a coin,” Rajat explains. “While engineering requires quick decision-making, writing demands emotional depth, careful word selection, and creativity.” Yet, his structured approach and years of experience dealing with human aspects and communication hurdles helped him craft compelling narratives.
Connecting with Readers
Rajat’s writing resonates across diverse genres—biographies, poetry, thrillers, and short stories—through his focus on universal emotions and authentic storytelling. “Whether I’m writing a thriller or poetry, I aim to evoke emotions and create narratives that readers can relate to,” he shares. His ability to blend professional struggles with personal growth has left a lasting impact on readers, as evidenced by feedback from fans who credit his stories with inspiring introspection and balance in their own lives.
Upcoming Projects
Rajat’s literary journey is far from over. He recently completed Beyond the Horizon, a collection of short stories slated for release, and is contributing to various anthologies. With a penchant for exploring new genres and themes, Rajat is eager to continue captivating audiences worldwide.
A Legacy of Excellence
From restoring hydroelectric plants to writing award-winning books, Rajat Chandra Sarmah exemplifies the power of reinvention. His unique blend of technical expertise and creative expression has left an indelible mark on both the engineering and literary worlds, proving that it’s never too late to pursue new passions and achieve greatness.
Some relationships seem almost poetic in their perfection. My best friend and his wife shared one such bond—a love that felt effortless, built on trust, laughter, and an unspoken understanding that only years of companionship can create. They were the kind of couple people admired, a reminder that true love still existed in a world of fleeting connections.
And then, I saw something I wished I hadn’t.
The first time was at a quiet café. He was sitting across from a woman, strikingly beautiful, with an air of effortless charm. Their conversation was soft, intimate, punctuated by fleeting touches and unguarded laughter. It felt different—too personal to be casual. Still, I told myself not to overthink it. People have friends. Colleagues. Life outside marriage.
But then I saw them again. And again.
A bookstore one evening. A park on a weekend afternoon. A dimly lit restaurant where they leaned in too close. Each time, there was a familiarity, a chemistry that could not be mistaken. And each time, I felt a growing unease.
Curiosity gnawed at me. One evening, in the midst of casual conversation, I mentioned her lightly. “I saw you with someone the other day. A friend?” His reaction was almost rehearsed—too swift, too dismissive. “Oh, just someone I know. Nothing important.” He changed the subject before I could ask more.
And now, I find myself caught in an unsettling dilemma.
What is my role here? Should I confront him, demand the truth? Should I tell his wife, knowing it might shatter her world? Or should I remain silent, convincing myself that this is not my battle to fight?
The burden of knowing is heavy, but the weight of speaking might be even greater.
If you were in my place, what would you do? Would you reveal the truth or carry the burden of silence?