The offer letter tells you when to report, which building to report to, and what documents to carry. It leaves out the more useful things — how to make the best of the years to come. What follows is a distillation of conversations with batchmates and recent graduates, along with experiences of my own, verified by the years since.


the first year

The pressure to know what you want to work on quickly is mostly noise.

The first year is for building theoretical foundations and understanding what a field actually looks like from the inside — not from a syllabus. Light research exposure early is genuinely useful: reading papers, attending lab meetings, talking to people doing the work. Deep commitment can wait until there’s enough background to make it meaningful.

What I kept hearing from people who had navigated this well: you need measurable theoretical grounding before the research stops being superficial. That’s not an argument for delaying indefinitely — it’s an argument for not skipping the foundation in the rush to seem research-ready.


course selection

When choosing electives, the temptations are obvious: picking whatever meets the minimum credit count, whatever might help even out the CGPA, or whatever fits the schedule (nothing too early in the morning, which in IISc terms means anything before 9am). The useful question before registering isn’t even just “is this interesting?” but: does this build a foundation I’ll need, or does it produce something — a project, a skill, fluency in a subfield? (And “interesting” is not enough on its own. Many courses are interesting. You have limited semesters.)

The syllabus often won’t tell you whether a course is actually applied or theoretical in practice, what the real assignment load looks like, or how the grading works. Stacking two math-heavy or two assignment-heavy courses in the same semester can become too much to handle.

Understand the grading policy early too. Your CGPA from the first semester matters more than it might seem: some professors filter lab applicants by it, and several companies screen internship candidates by CGPA as well. If there are demanding courses you’re keen on, consider saving them for your final semester — by then, you can afford to invest more time in them, and a lower grade won’t affect your placements.


choosing a lab

Every professor has a lab made up of the PhD students and MTech students they are advising, along with any research assistants working with them. When approaching professors, go through their Google Scholar pages to see their publications. Do any papers catch your attention? Does the field call to you?

But choosing a professor to work with is about more than just choosing a research topic — it’s also about choosing the right lab, and being part of a culture that pulls you up.

A good lab has a few observable properties: students are publishing (not just admitted, but publishing), work is visible somewhere (GitHub, preprints, demos), and PhD students are reachable and willing to talk.

The labs to be careful about aren’t always obviously problematic. Sometimes the advisor is very senior and genuinely stretched thin, and students are largely left to themselves without enough scaffolding.

Before emailing a professor, reach out to two or three PhD students in the lab first. They’re more likely to respond, more candid about what the lab is actually like, and can tell you what projects are actively being worked on right now. They can also help sharpen what you want to say when you do approach the professor — and they’re usually the ones who’ll mentor you day-to-day anyway. Talk to multiple people, not just one.

The questions worth asking: what does the advisor’s involvement actually look like week to week? How long did it take people to find their research problem? What’s the work culture like day-to-day? Mid-career professors tend to be the sweet spot — active enough to have ongoing problems, invested enough to be present, not yet so overcommitted that students become secondary.


approaching professors

“I’m interested in machine learning” is not a reason to email a professor. It describes your entire batch.

What actually gets a response is specificity — something closer to: I read this paper from your lab. I want to understand this aspect better. I’ve been working through this background. That gives someone a thread to pull on.

Timing matters too. Approaching in week one, before any coursework or reading, usually leads nowhere — there’s nothing yet to build a conversation from.


information asymmetry

The students who navigate a research masters well aren’t, on average, more talented. They’re better informed. They talked to seniors earlier, asked more direct questions, and made decisions with more context.

Fellowships are one example — industry fellowships that support projects exist, aren’t wildly competitive, and open doors to labs and collaborations that would otherwise take much longer to access. Most students find out about them after the application windows have closed. Internship timelines follow the same pattern: conversations that could have started in month three start in month eight, and the options narrow accordingly.

The information exists — in seniors and alumni who are usually very approachable and candid over a short call. A simple way to start: find people with similar backgrounds on LinkedIn, people who got the internships or fellowships you’re interested in, and send a message indicating where you are and what you’re about to embark on. Most people are willing to help. The gap is almost always in who thinks to ask, and when.


what the degree is actually building

Underneath all of it — the courses, the lab, the advisor — a research masters should produce something. Papers, if the trajectory is a PhD. Code or systems, if it’s industry. A rigorous theoretical foundation, at minimum, that makes the next step easier.

The students who left with the clearest sense of direction had built something they could point to — because the process of building something, finishing it, defending it, presenting it, is where the abstract finally becomes concrete.

The degree is two years. What it contains is mostly up to you.


If you’ve come this far and have thoughts or questions, feel free to reach out via instagram or anonymously.