Varun didn't start the class with attendance.
He didn't open the register.He didn't pick up the chalk.
He stood in front of them, hands clasped behind his back, looking at the faces he already knew too well.
Some tired.Some defensive.Some quietly waiting to be disappointed again.
"I am not here to motivate you today," Varun said.
A few heads lifted.
"I am here to tell you the truth."
The room stayed silent.
"Even if you finish this course with flying colors," Varun continued, "life will not suddenly become honky-dory."
A few students exchanged looks.
"Computer repairing," Varun said, tapping the edge of a desk, "will not survive the next few years the way you imagine."
Someone frowned.
"Laptops are becoming cheaper. Phones are sealed. Companies are moving toward no-repair designs. When repairs happen, they happen only at company service centers."
He let that sink in.
"So yes," Varun said, "you might get a job. But it will be limited salary. Limited growth. And only if you are lucky."
No one interrupted him.
He wasn't crushing hope.
He was removing illusion.
"I did not start the repair work because I believe repair shops are your future," Varun said. "I did it because your families had lost trust in you."
A few students shifted uncomfortably.
"You came to this class broken," he said calmly. "Angry. Dejected. Carrying labels you didn't choose. Your families had stopped expecting anything from you."
He looked directly at Amit.
"That had to change first."
The HUD flickered faintly.
[STUDENT PERCEPTION: ATTENTIVE]
"I needed your families to see that you can produce value," Varun said. "That you are not useless. That you can be trusted with responsibility."
He paused.
"And that part worked."
The room felt heavier now, not lighter.
"But that was not the destination," Varun said. "That was the entry point."
He turned to the whiteboard and wrote slowly:
REPAIR ≠ CAREERSKILL ≠ JOBSYSTEM ≠ FUTURE
"You are standing in 2020s education," Varun said. "But this syllabus," he tapped the register, "belongs to another century."
A few students smiled bitterly.
"So from today," Varun said, "we stop pretending this course alone will save you."
He reached into his bag and pulled out a printed sheet.
"Google IT Support Professional Certificate," he read aloud. "Free. Online. Modern."
Murmurs spread.
"This is where we start," Varun said. "Not because Google is magical. But because it teaches you how modern systems actually work."
He wrote more names on the board:
CiscoHuaweiLinksys
"Networking," he said. "Real networking. The kind that runs offices, warehouses, factories."
The HUD pulsed.
[SKILL PATH DEFINED: MID-LEVEL TECHNICIAN]
"I will not turn you into geniuses," Varun said. "But if you follow this path seriously, you will enter the market not as juniors who change keyboards, but as technicians who understand systems."
He turned back to them.
"But," he added, "this cannot be done only inside these college walls."
The room stiffened.
"This building is slow," Varun said. "The system is slow. And life outside will not wait."
He spread his hands.
"So we will take a hybrid approach."
Some learning here.Some online.Some at home.Some in the real world.
"If you stay," Varun said quietly, "it will not be easy. You will not get quick money. You will not get instant approval."
He looked at the empty chairs.
"And some of you will leave," he said. "I understand why."
No anger.No judgment.
"But if you stay," Varun said, "you will not leave this place half-ready."
The HUD appeared clearly now.
[STRATEGY UPDATED][FOCUS: COMPRESSED SKILL DEVELOPMENT][THREAT LEVEL: HIGH][STUDENT TRUST: STABILIZING]
Varun picked up the chalk at last.
"Today," he said, "we start with something simple."
He wrote on the board:
HOW THE INTERNET ACTUALLY WORKS
A few students leaned forward.
Varun allowed himself a small breath.
The system had taught him one thing clearly:
If he couldn't protect them inside the institution—
He would prepare them fast enough to survive outside it.
And this time, he would not pretend otherwise.