Most people don’t stay at one company for 13 years. Even fewer leave, try something new, and walk back through the same door.
He did both.
It began in 2013 with a 4,000 rs salary and a job he barely understood. Back then, the team was just a handful of people, and nobody was following a grand plan, least of all him. What started as a simple role in SEO slowly stretched into something much bigger, shaped by late nights at the office, endless cricket scores, long Counter-Strike sessions, and the kind of friendships that only form when you build something together from scratch.
Of course, it wasn’t all smooth. There were disagreements with the founders, a resignation, and a short stint in Dubai that ended sooner than he expected. By most measures, that should have been the end of the story.
But it wasn’t. Somewhere between the arguments and the exit, something kept pulling him back, and it had very little to do with the job description.
To understand what that something was, we have to go back to where it all began.
It Started With a Conversation During Ramadan
In 2013, he wasn’t looking for a career. He was just someone who happened to meet one of the founders during Ramadan, and that one conversation quietly changed the direction of the next 13 years.
The founder offered him a job in “some computer-related work.” It wasn’t a clear job description, and it wasn’t a polished pitch. He said yes anyway, and as he puts it, “mujhe kuch pata nahi tha.”
His first role was as an SEO analyst, on a salary of 4,000 rs a month. The team was barely five people. There were no defined departments, no career ladders, and no one telling him where this might lead. There was just work to be done and a lot to figure out along the way.
So he figured it out, one task at a time. He wasn’t chasing a title or following a plan. He simply took whatever came his way and learned as he went, never imagining that this habit would carry him much further than that small office.
But the work was only part of what made those early days stay with him. What he remembers most is how life at Hats-Off felt back then, and it looked nothing like a usual office routine.
More Than Just an Office
Ask him about those early years and the first thing he mentions isn’t a project or a deadline. It’s the Counter-Strike sessions that stretched on long after the work was done, with the whole team crowded around screens, trash-talking each other like it was a tournament final.
Then there was cricket. Not just playing it, but living it. Someone had to keep track of the scores, and he took on the job of maintaining Excel sheets for every match, complete with tallies that nobody had asked for and everybody checked. It was the kind of unofficial duty that had nothing to do with his job description and everything to do with why the place felt like home.
Some afternoons, a few of them would slip away to the gym during work hours. Some nights, the work ran so late that going home no longer made sense, so they simply slept in the office and started again in the morning.
None of it looked like a company policy. It was just what happened when a small group of people spent more time together than apart, building something none of them could fully describe yet.
Kaam ke saath life bhi chalti thi, he says. Work and life ran side by side, and it was hard to tell where one ended and the other began.
That closeness is what made the harder moments cut deeper. Because as the years went on, not everything stayed easy.
The Argument That Changed Everything
Thirteen years is a long time to spend anywhere, and long stretches come with friction. He is quick to admit that his story at Hats-Off wasn’t a smooth one.
There came a point when disagreements piled up and one conversation turned into a full-blown argument, with the founders on one side and him on the other. Voices were raised, positions were held, and neither side was in the mood to back down. It wasn’t a small difference of opinion. It was the kind of argument that makes you question whether you still belong.
So he made a decision. He resigned.
What followed was not a dramatic walkout. He served his full notice period, finished what he had to finish, and then left. There were no grand speeches, only the strange quiet of clearing out a desk in a place that had been part of his daily life for years.
For a while, it felt like a clean ending. A chapter closed, a door shut, and a new path ahead.
But a fresh start has a way of showing you what you took for granted. And his next move would put that to the test, far from home.
The Realization
Life after resigning moved on, as it does. There was a new routine and new surroundings, and for a while, he told himself he had made the right call.
But the more time passed, the more he started noticing what was missing. He had never thought about it while he was inside Hats-Off, but outside, the difference was impossible to miss. The trust, the freedom to make decisions and mistakes, the people who stood by him when he needed support: these weren’t things he could simply find somewhere else.
That was the moment it became clear. What Hats-Off had given him wasn’t a job or a salary. It was something no other workplace was going to offer, and he had only understood its value once he no longer had it.
So he did the one thing he hadn’t expected to do. He went back.
The old arguments hadn’t disappeared, but they no longer mattered the way they once had. He was home, and the story at Hats-Off was far from over.
A Short Experiment in Dubai
Some time after he returned, Hats-Off began looking beyond its own backyard. The company wanted to build a presence in Dubai, and when it needed someone to take that idea forward, it turned to him.
It was a big vote of confidence. He wouldn’t be going as a stranger chasing a new job. He would be going as the person Hats-Off trusted to start something new.
The first month was mast. A new city, new responsibilities, and the energy of building something from the ground up. Everything felt exciting and a little bigger than life.
By the second month, the shine had started to fade. It was okay. The work was moving and the days were full, but something felt slightly off, and he couldn’t say exactly what.
By the third month, the feeling had a voice. “Mujhe ghar jaana hai,” he caught himself thinking, again and again.
And by the fourth month, he was back.
He laughs about it now, the way people do about the chapters that taught them the most. It was short, but it left him with something he had been circling for years, and he was finally ready to put it into words.
What Really Kept Him Here
Ask him now why he stayed, and he doesn’t point to a title, a salary or a milestone. After 13 years, the answer is simpler than any of those.
It was never just the job. It was the people.
There were times he needed support professionally, personally, and even financially, and the people around him were there each time, without hesitation and without making him feel small for asking. You don’t really forget that, he says. Jobs can be replaced. Office perks can be matched. But the feeling of having someone genuinely in your corner is much harder to find.
It also explains why the arguments never defined the story. Disagreements were part of growing alongside people who cared enough to push back. And the freedom he was given, to make decisions and to make mistakes along the way, taught him what real trust looks like. It’s what he now tries to give his own team.
Today, Hats-Off looks very different from the small office where it all began. The team has grown, the work has changed, and the roles have shifted.
So have I, he says, with a smile.
Thirteen years, one resignation, and one short trip abroad later, he still can’t point to a plan. What he can point to is a place that kept making room for him, and the people who made it feel like home.
Fifteen Years of Stories Worth Telling
Through all of it, one thing kept growing quietly in the background: Hats-Off itself.
When he joined, the team was barely five people. Today, it has grown into a team many times that size, with people handling responsibilities he once carried alone, and often doing them better than he ever did. He says that’s the part that makes him proudest, and a little emotional too.
He has seen the company through nearly every chapter. The first small office and the second one, the early days of doing everything by hand, the slow shift from a handful of people to a proper team. hhe has watched Hats-Off change shape more than once, and he has changed alongside it. From an SEO analyst who barely knew what the job was, to someone leading teams and carrying real responsibility, his growth happened the same way the company’s did: one step at a time, with no map.
With that comes a quiet sense of responsibility. Every person who joins is trusting Hats-Off with their career, and his hope is simple: that anyone who works here grows, whether they stay for years or move on to something bigger.
Some people leave a company and never look back. He left, understood what he was leaving behind, and came back to see it through. Today, he stands as the longest-standing employee, still learning, still curious, still part of the story.
The office has changed, the team has grown, and the roles have shifted. But the spirit that made a five-person team feel like family is still here.
That is what makes his Story Worth Telling.
