PhD is a polite way of saying; you've read too much but earn too little

Among the few PhDs in the village, I often sit at the front row during academic days in schools, called upon to give motivational speeches to young dreamers. I wear my best suit-polished shoes, and carry a worn-out briefcase filled with hope, and a voice tempered by the fires of research. I talk about resilience, hard work, and the value of education. They call me "Daktari!" with pride.

Yet now, I stand at a crossroads of brutal irony. In one hand, an invitations to pre-university parties; in the other, a redundancy letter-cold, impersonal, and final. My walking style has changed-less bounce, more burden. My head, once held high in lecture halls and academic conferences, now bows not in humility but in humiliation. The cookies, as they say, have crumbled-and not in my favour.