The Early Years
I came into the world in Mumbai and spent my entire childhood in a slum. It was the kind of setting you see in films — plenty of kind souls, but no shortage of troublemakers either. I managed to steer clear of the wrong crowd, mostly because I was too laid-back to get into mischief. Cricket was my one true passion. My performance in the 10th-grade exams was quite poor; I had hoped for better marks, but they fell short of what I'd anticipated. Unsure of my next step, I thought about enrolling in the science stream, but my scores disqualified me.
Landing a Spot in Computer Science (Diploma)
It might have been fate or just pure luck. A friend of my father's tipped us off about diploma programs. I submitted my application and, to my surprise, was accepted. They offered a list of specializations, and I picked computer science without a second thought. But the road ahead was anything but smooth.
Language Hurdles
English isn't my mother tongue. My schooling was in Hindi, and I also carried a distinct regional accent from the north. I remember breaking down in tears during a class because I couldn't grasp a single word, terrified of failing once more after my disappointing 10th-grade results.
My internal exam scores were dismal, but surrendering wasn't on the table this time around. I kept my academic struggles hidden from my parents. I buckled down, put away the cricket bat, and distanced myself from friends. My sole objective was to survive the first year of the three-year program. I managed to scrape through with roughly 50% that year.
It wasn't a source of pride, but it was the best I could manage.
By the second year, I had transformed into a more confident version of myself, pushing my scores above 55%. In the final year, I crossed the 60% mark.
An Unexpected Blow
After finishing the diploma, I was eager to pursue a full CS degree, a four-year commitment (three for me, thanks to my diploma). My mind was made up to keep studying, but during my second year, my father lost his job without my knowledge for quite some time.
Then came the day my dad broke the news. He told me to search for work since he couldn't cover the CS degree fees, which came to around 42k INR (550 USD) per year.
I sobbed all night, unable to shut my eyes. The next day, my mom noticed my distress and confronted my dad: 'Find a way, but my son will finish his studies.'
My father acquiesced, and my uncle (dad's elder brother) stepped in with financial support.
Getting Into the CS Degree Program
My marks were sufficient to secure a place in the CS degree, starting directly in the second year at a college that had just opened its doors in 2004. It wasn't a prestigious Tier-1 institution, but it was affiliated with Mumbai University, and I was thrilled. That same year, Mumbai was hit by devastating floods, delaying the whole admission process. Exams followed within two months, and I was fortunate to pass every subject.
As I advanced to the third year, having skipped the first, I relied heavily on library books since purchasing them was out of the question. Several professors were kind enough to check out books on my behalf, allowing me to study for exams and return them promptly.
By the end of my third year, my family's financial situation had deteriorated further. I considered abandoning my studies, but a friend I confided in reassured me: 'Don't worry about it, I'll figure something out.' I was close to tears. However, during a break, my dad told me he'd saved enough for the final year.
Relieved, I excelled in that last year, scoring near 70% in my finals. I assumed the hardest days were behind me; I had my degree. But there were undercurrents we hadn't yet detected.
The 2008 Downturn
The Great Recession hit, and companies were barely hiring. I was also adrift, uncertain of my professional direction.
Friends pointed out my knack for coding, suggesting I dive into it. That's when I discovered my passion, falling hard for C#. After a few months of waiting, I landed a modest job. It paid a measly 5k INR (about 68 USD) monthly, but it let me learn and earn. Eight months in, I resigned and faced a month of unemployment, then took on a four-month support gig requiring some SQL knowledge, which I accepted.
Come January 2010, I finally secured a role where I could write actual code — a Windows application in C#. I poured my heart into it, though the pay was still a sticking point.
Earning 12k (163 USD) a month, the work was sparse. I voiced this to my manager, who advised me to use the downtime to pick up new skills.
I delved deeper into C#, and a colleague who was a DBA guided me through SQL (stored procedures, functions, query writing). Within ten months, I received an offer with a 100% pay increase — a major milestone! I dedicated another eight months to that new position.
Entering the Startup World
In August 2011, I jumped into a startup, where I'd spend the next 4.8 years. A friend had suggested it. The compensation was enticing — over a 50% raise upon joining, plus the company offered insurance and provident fund. I was driven from day one, churning out work at lightning speed to get more assignments. Quickly, I earned a solid reputation, with praise coming from teammates and even the CEO.
The ride gets bumpy
I believed I had it all figured out — a secure job, decent pay — but life has a way of throwing curveballs.
My wife was expecting, and around the sixth month, complications emerged. Doctors recommended an immediate surgery, with uncertainty about the baby's survival. They suggested transferring her to a specialized hospital, where the odds were better, but the cost exceeded 6L INR (8000 USD), more than my entire annual income.
I replied: 'I'll do whatever it takes to save her.'
Savings were nearly non-existent, as I'd been supporting my family and covering daily expenses.
The combined hospital bills for my wife's surgery hit 8L (11K USD), with insurance footing only 5% of the bill. I took out a personal loan and borrowed from friends. I also approached my manager about an extra raise that year, hoping for around 40% more. To my surprise, both my manager and CEO approved it.
For three months, my routine was a daily trek to the hospital to check on my daughter, then off to work. She arrived weighing just 845 grams and reached about 1.5 kg by the time we brought her home. I worked tirelessly to repay my friends, but the personal loan consumed most of my salary. My wife sold all her gold to settle the debt and reimburse friends.
Last month, I finally bought her a ring and some gold — words can't capture her happiness.
Chasing a better life
I shifted my focus to career advancement to boost earnings and clear the loans, but that meant sacrificing precious time with my daughter and wife. My parents were critical, accusing me of squandering money, not realizing I was repaying debt and straining to support them.
I moved out of my parents' home to start my own family with no savings. A friend rented me a place, where we spent a year without a bed. We started from scratch, gradually acquiring a mattress and, eventually, a laptop for programming practice (which was my first-ever personal computer, acquired only in 2015).
What kept me going
From 2012 to 2015, there were countless moments when I felt like throwing in the towel. But the drive to fight for my daughter and wife, to offer them a better life, kept me anchored, as did my commitment to give my all at work.
If you're reading this, make time for your family — you're not compensated for working beyond eight hours; that's just free labor for your employer.
Post-2015, I was asked only once to work overtime, and my refusal was immediate — that's a slippery slope. Invest in yourself instead; learn, practice, and build, and it'll pay off down the line.
Relocating to Pune
In 2016, I walked away from the startup, driven out by a toxic manager. The memory of my last day is vivid — he avoided me, even though I needed his signature on some paperwork. After sitting around the whole day, I gave the documents to HR and said, if he wanted to sign, fine, but I was leaving. I'd never work with this person again. As I departed, my coworkers clapped for me, a moment that was deeply moving.
I moved to Pune to join an MNC, where I finally prioritized family time — sticking to eight-hour days and taking weekends off. I also got into blogging during this period, writing about .Net, AngularJS, and Angular.
Offering Angular training brought in extra income. I bought a proper bed, enrolled my daughter in a good school, and chipped away at my loans. The year 2017 was a turning point for my family.
That additional income proved crucial. The old mattress was falling apart, causing my wife severe back pain; the extra funds allowed me to invest in a high-quality one.
Rough Times Return
2018 kicked off on a sour note. I spent four months filming a course for someone who stiffed me on payment. I also clashed with the organization I'd been partnering with on training, leading to a split.
I was generating income, but my learning had stalled, and I’d stepped back from community work. Ironically, my earnings came from OSS. To make matters worse, my daughter was diagnosed with TB. I felt defeated and discouraged again. I'd joined Deutsche Bank at the tail end of 2017, where the work was manageable and the pay decent.
I gave the community a wide berth in 2018, but I shone in my project, dedicating myself fully to Angular development.
2019: A Comeback and the Road to GDE
Following a lackluster 2018, my focus for 2019 shifted toward community involvement, though I wasn't sure how to begin. I decided to attend an Angular conference—my first ever—where I connected with Vikram of the Angular Team and sought his guidance.
Upon returning, I was determined to contribute, but Angular itself seemed daunting to break into. So, I turned to NgRx. I found a manageable issue, submitted my first PR on February 28th, and from there, my contributions grew. By mid-March, I spotted an issue in the Angular repository that I felt equipped to handle, and after working on it, I submitted my first PR.
It was around that time I stumbled upon the concept of the GDE Program for Angular. I looked into it and realized that invitations are based on your contributions—a fact I hadn't known—and I immediately dismissed the idea. It felt out of reach, and more importantly, it wasn't my reason for contributing in the first place.
Contributing to inDepth.dev
My writing had fallen by the wayside for quite a while. While working on a specific NgRx PR, the team there encouraged me to write about my experience and even helped with the review process. It was published, and I was thrilled—I had always admired inDepth.dev for its high-quality articles and never imagined my own work would appear there.
First Open Source Project
By mid-2019, I was tinkering with a personal project. I learned about Angular Builders and was inspired by an example from Minko on deploying apps to GitHub Pages. I decided to create something similar for Netlify for my own use, and eventually, I published it on NPM.
The project gained traction and is now used by over 200 projects on GitHub, even being referenced in the official Angular Docs.
[
ngx-builders/netlify-builder
Deploy your Angular app to netlify from CLI.
GitHubngx-builders
](https://github.com/ngx-builders/netlify-builder)
Speaking at NgSrilanka
Sajeetharan, the organizer of NgSrilanka, put out a call for speakers on Twitter. I sent him an email and, within a week, I was confirmed as a speaker for the conference.
The GDE Invitation
In August, I received a LinkedIn message from Siddhant Agarwal from Google, asking if I'd be open to applying for the GDE program. I submitted my application in September, and my interview was scheduled.
On November 13th, which also happens to be my birthday, I was officially announced as a GDE.
Just a few months prior, I thought it was an impossible goal. Sometimes, when you put in the hard work, things fall into place without you having to ask.
The Deutsche Bank Ordeal
In October 2019, I was slated to speak at two conferences. One required travel to Poland, which meant I needed a No Objection Certificate (NOC) from my employer. I believed my GDE status would be seen as an asset to Deutsche Bank, but I was mistaken. What happened next was beyond anything I could have imagined.
My NOC request was denied with the reasoning that only VPs and MDs could represent the bank at such events. I tried to clarify that my involvement was for open-source work, not representing the bank, but my explanations were ignored, and I was unable to secure a visa for Poland.
I handed in my resignation a week later, but not before voicing my concern that this policy was unfair and that a tech company should support open source. What I didn't anticipate was being penalized for speaking up. Even after my resignation, I was barred from the bank premises until the end of my notice period. They made the process of moving to my new employer as difficult as possible by not cooperating with document requests, and they nearly derailed my career.
I even received a call from a Managing Director advising me not to discuss the incident publicly after I left. The struggles continued even after my notice period ended, an experience I documented here.
I couldn't hold back tears as I was escorted out, watching my plans spiral and worrying about my family's security.
A New Employer's Support
My next employer was nothing short of a lifeline. My HR contact assured me repeatedly, "Don't worry, we are here with you. Whatever happens, you will be joining us." The stretch from October 2019 to February 2020 was the most trying period of my life.
I was anxious daily about Deutsche Bank's next move to sabotage my career. I even attempted to bring the issue to the attention of their CEO and CTO, but those inquiries went nowhere. Eventually, after a prolonged fight, I secured my documents and pay, but the memory of being humiliated for standing up for open source is something I won't easily forget.
I'll admit that even as I write this, there's still fear about what Deutsche Bank might do in response. But this story deserves to be told. I hope they take it as constructive feedback rather than a reason for reprisal.
Life After February 2020
Since then, life has been positive. I can now speak at conferences without the sword of Damocles hanging over my head, as my employer fully supports these activities. I've picked up my OSS contributions again and have even launched a talk show called "Tech Talks with Santosh."
[
Tech Talks With Santosh
Hello everyone, my name is Santosh and I am a GDE for Angular. I am an Open Source Contributor and Writer for Indepth.dev.
YouTube
](https://www.youtube.com/c/TechTalksWithSantosh)
Looking Ahead
I have ambitions like any other developer, and here are a few that are on my list:
- To make more meaningful contributions to Open Source.
- To encourage more developers to join the Open Source movement.
- To invest more effort into growing "Tech Talks with Santosh" and sharing knowledge with the community.
- Lastly, to one day land my dream role as a Developer Advocate, since helping developers succeed is my true passion.
Wrapping Up
I’ll hold off on a final verdict. I believe every person’s journey is a story worth being told. So far, this is mine. A few questions I keep asking myself:
Is my struggle over?
I don't know.
Will everything be all right?
I don't know.
Will I stop fighting?
Quitting isn't on the table.