OUT OF SYLLABUS – My First Icebreaker Speech Journey

Have you ever faced something in life that felt completely out of syllabus?

I have. Many times. Life doesn’t always go as we plan, but sometimes the unexpected turns lead us to the real lessons. This was my first prepared speech at Toastmasters—the Icebreaker. 

It’s not just a speech—it’s a piece of my journey. From choosing engineering when I actually loved arts, to stepping into the IT world without knowing coding, life kept surprising me with out-of-syllabus chapters. But that’s exactly where I found my spark. Here’s my speech: “Out of Syllabus.” 

Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed sharing it!

Have you all ever chased something—not for money, not for appreciation—but just to feel alive? 

Good evening, fellow Toastmasters and guests. This is Bimla, and I’m here to tell you how I discovered my spark from out of syllabus. 

We all know what a syllabus is. In our schools and colleges, the syllabus follows a specific set of lessons or courses in each academic year. A syllabus is so specific and fixed. 

To me, a syllabus is like a bus—a bus that only takes a fixed, specific route. But what about life? Do you think life follows a syllabus? Does it move in a fixed direction, like a sylla-bus? No. Life is a roller coaster—full of twists and turns. 

I’m a proud graduate in Electronics and Communication Engineering. But how did I choose engineering in the first place? When I completed school, I wanted to pursue an Arts degree and become a teacher in Physics or Botany. But it was that era when medicine and engineering were considered the only two successful careers. They were treated like sacred things—like the holy bread and holy wine in the societal church. 

So, due to societal pressure and expectations, I had to choose engineering. I was pulled into it. That was the first out-of-syllabus moment in my life. 

After engineering, I entered the corporate world as a software tester. Honestly, I knew nothing about coding. That was the second out-of-syllabus moment in my life. 

So what did I do in the corporate world? Staring at screens. Debugging issues. Writing test cases. Testing them. Meetings. Calls. And I had to make sure nothing broke the product before it went into production. 

On paper, I was an IT Analyst. But in real life, I was a warrior—fighting with bugs and blues. 

Now, about my weekdays… They felt like running on a hamster wheel—round and round, no end. Testing, testing, testing—no end. And the moment I reached home after work, the only thing left to be tested was my patience—when I would finally fall asleep. 

But what about Friday evenings? The moment I stepped into my home on a Friday evening, I felt like I was entering a paradise. Because Friday evenings were followed by weekends—my life, my rules, my rhythm. I used to roam around. I used to dine out with friends. Sometimes, I would travel to my hometown to visit my parents. Weekends felt like holding on to my mother’s sari—full of warmth and comfort. 

Then, like an uninvited guest in a good-going party—Monday popped up. I tried my best to brighten up my Monday blues, but I failed every time. It reminded me of my kindergarten days, when I used to hold my mom’s hand and say, “Mom, please don’t put me in that school bus. I don’t want to go to school. Let me stay at home for one more day.” Those were exactly the feelings Monday blues gave me. 

While I was coping with corporate life for around five years, 2020 came. The pandemic hit. I had to work from home for seven to eight months. Eventually, I had to quit my job due to poor work-life balance. It affected my health in many ways. So I resigned. 

The moment I left my job, I realized something—I had been coping with a career. And that was a complete out-of-syllabus moment in my life.

It was like I had prepared for a history exam and been handed a science question paper in the exam hall. 

Now—nothing to do. One day, I took a pack of colored papers, glue, and scissors. I wanted to create something. So I made a simple flower—a simple handmade flower. 

To be honest, I wasn’t following any requirements here. There was no testing to be done. Because I was the creator here—not the tester. 

The creator—not the tester. 

And that’s the spark. That’s the spark I discovered from out of syllabus. 

Crafting gave me joy. Toastmasters gave me a voice. 

Everyone’s life needs a spark. And once you find that spark, never let it fade. 

Because you don’t have to chase your spark—sometimes, it comes out of nowhere. In my case, I discovered my spark from out of syllabus. And that’s how I felt alive. 

Thank you.