As part of my PhD, I needed to study tongue movement in speech, focusing on Malayalam vowels. Since no public dataset was available, I had to collect my own data from children aged 5 to 10—because their speech patterns vary as they develop. I approached a school with a recommendation letter from my university. After a long discussion they gave me just one day and prepared a strict contract sealing every possible loophole.

On the recording day, I was waiting with mic and laptop for recoding vowels. But the kids had other ideas! They want to sing  and insisted on playing back their recordings. One even insisted, "The mic has some problem! My voice doesn’t sound like this!" It was a fun and memorable day. But I still managed to get my data.

The next morning, I got an urgent call from the school. When I arrived, I saw a group of parents waiting. The headmistress explained, “The children went home and told their parents, ‘A voice doctor came and checked our voice.’ Now they all want to know what’s wrong with their kids!”

I spent the next hour explaining that I wasn’t diagnosing speech problems—I am a research scholar and I was just studying vowel sounds. The parents eventually understood. And asked me sign another contract to ensure no misuse of the recordings.

It was one of the most exciting days of my research life—just recording voices and playing them back, yet the joy and enthusiasm of the kids were beyond anything I had ever seen in my work. Research rarely feels this lively    

I don't believe that success is only for those who are born brilliant or have been top rankers since childhood. If that were true, I wouldn’t have been able to complete even my higher secondary🤷.

During my school days, I wrote exams just to pass and rushed out of the exam hall to play outside. I studied in an girls. Girls generally have a strange habit — they never gave positive feedback about their exams. They would dramatically say, "Oh God, I didn’t write anything! I’m afraid I’ll fail!" Even though they were exaggerating, I took their words seriously and sincerely jointed with them. But results proved my foolishness 😤.

My parents never pressured us to study, but I was always amazed by my sister. How could two kids raised under the same roof be so different? She was loving, studious, sincere, and the ideal child any parent would wish for. Ah… better not compare myself too much in this area! 🫣

At some point, I realized I wanted to be a genuine student and make my parents proud. From then on, I chose my courses and universities, and my loving parents stood by me through it all. 

My academic scores progressed like this: 10th Grade – 52%, Pre-degree (+2) – 59%, B.Sc. – 68%, MCA – 76%, M.Phil. – Rank II, Ph.D. So, whenever I submit this score, I naturally end up telling this story. 

I believe I am eligible to convey that if you ever feel like you’re not ‘good enough’ or that success is only for the gifted, remember this: Your potential is not defined by what you have done—it’s all about where you begin and how far you’re willing to go. Try to keep youself "Better Than Yerterday"

I am Leena G Pillai, born and raised in the serene village life of Pathanamthitta, Kerala, India. I am blessed to have experienced all aspects of village life.  As most of our villages are situated along its banks, annual floods were a common occurrence—sometimes even two or three times a year. But as kids, we never saw it as a problem. We had fun playing in the muddy water, never really worrying about the tiny snakes struggling to reach the shore to save themselves. 

I completed my schooling and undergraduate studies in Pandalam and Pathanamthitta. My parents, proud of their two daughters, were determined to make us independent. They made sure both of us pursued our post-graduation in other states. I completed my MCA in Tamil Nadu.

After completing my studies, I never imagined stepping into the role of a teacher. My seven years of teaching turned out to be some of the most memorable days of my life. It was more than just a profession; it was a journey of guiding, supporting, and growing alongside my students. Being among students, leading them, understanding their emotions, supporting them in tough times, and pushing them to take their first steps forward—it was more than just teaching; it was playing multiple roles at once. 

With the unwavering support of my husband, I decided to return to the world of academics—not as a teacher, but as a student once again. I pursued my MPhil and later a Ph.D., diving deeper into research. Today, I continue my journey as a researcher, constantly learning, exploring, and contributing to my field.

Life has taken me through different roles—daughter, student, teacher, wife, mentor, and researcher. Each phase has shaped me into who I am today, and I look forward to what the future holds.