Adhithya sat slumped at a corner table in the campus café, head buried in his hands. His laptop was open, tabs multiplying like the gold rate today – Scopus here, Google Scholar there, and a hundred PDFs stacked in folders named “Final-final-literature-review.” A long sigh escaped.
Tholga spotted him from across the room. With a knowing smile, he walked over, pulled out a chair, and placed a gentle hand on Adhithya’s shoulder.
“Come on,” he said warmly, “let’s grab a cup of coffee. And you can tell me what’s eating your head.”
Adhithya stood up to fetch coffee, eyes weary. “Why, Tholga? Why is everyone obsessed with publishing papers? I just want to do research, not spend my life worrying about journals and citations.”
Tholga chuckled, stirring his coffee slowly. “Ah, I hear in you the voice of every PhD scholar. You see, publishing isn’t some cruel punishment at the end of your work. It’s the natural outcome of your research. It’s something like brewing filter coffee – your experiments are the decoction, but the aroma that fills the air? That’s your paper. Without it, how will anyone know you brewed something in the first place?”
Adhithya frowned, pushing his glasses up. “So, it’s just a box to tick?”
“Not quite,” Tholga replied. “It’s proof that you can contribute to knowledge. Universities expect it, funders expect it, and future employers want to see it too. But think of it less as a box to tick, more as a way to share your ideas with the right people. If your research has value, why keep it locked in your drawer?”
Adhithya slouched deeper into the chair. “Easy for you to say. I feel like I’ve been dropped into a jungle. Everyone says ‘do a literature review,’ but nobody tells me how. My folders are a graveyard of unread papers. I’m lost.”
Tholga leaned in, smiling. “Which is exactly why The First Mile exists. It’s your GPS for the PhD forest. Instead of wandering around the same tree, you get clear paths. One step at a time. And by the end of the year, you won’t just know about research foundations – you’ll have them firmly in place.”
Adhithya’s ears perked up. “What do you mean?”
“Well,” Tholga said, “The First Mile is a 12-month programme designed for first-year PhD scholars like you – and even for early-career researchers who need strong fundamentals. Each month, you complete one concrete task. Nothing overwhelming, not vague. Just one clear step forward.”
Adhithya raised an eyebrow. “Like what?”
“Like setting up your research identity so people can actually find your work. Using reference managers like Zotero to tame the PDF chaos. Learning to be on the right academic platforms to increase visibility. Collecting and organising literature in a way that makes sense. Understanding the publication ecosystem so you don’t fall prey to dodgy journals. Even learning how to analyse journals so you know exactly where your paper belongs when the time comes.”
Adhithya straightened a little, curiosity replacing the sulk. “That… actually sounds useful. And it’s structured?”
“Absolutely. Nine core topics, more than 30 hours of guided sessions – both live and recorded – spread across a year. No information overload. Just steady progress. By the end, instead of throwing darts blindfolded, you’ll know exactly where to aim.”
Adhithya chuckled for the first time that morning. “So, instead of surviving on panic and caffeine, I could actually enjoy this?”
“Exactly!” Tholga grinned. “Your first year sets the tone for everything that follows. Get it right, and the next three years are smoother. Mess it up, and you’ll spend the rest firefighting. The First Mile makes sure your research train leaves the station in the right direction.”
Adhithya sipped his coffee thoughtfully. For the first time, he didn’t feel completely lost. Maybe the forest wasn’t as dark as it seemed.