Modern Battles: A Kshyattriya Against Deadlines

I’ve never held a sword, but I’ve fought battles.

Not in a war-torn land, but in glowing screens, unread messages, moving targets, and clock hands that never stop spinning. And as strange as it sounds, every now and then, I find myself thinking, this must be what my ancestors felt like, in their own way.

You see, my surname is khadka (Kshyattriya), Rustam Khadka 😊

Kshyattirya sounds strong, doesn’t it? Ancient. Rooted. The kind of name that wears history like armour. Growing up, I never thought much of it, just a long word teachers may stumbled over during attendance. But as time went on, I realized something: names carry echoes. Some loud, some quiet, but all significant.

The word Kshyattriya traces back to warriors. Guardians. Not the loud kind in action movies, but the disciplined kind who knew that real strength is measured not in how you fight, but why you fight. Honour, duty, order. All that heavy stuff.

Now here’s where things get a little ironic: I’m not in the army. I’m a project manager.

Yep. My battlefield is a whiteboard. My enemies? Scope, unrealistic deadlines, unclear requirements, and the occasional “Let’s sit for a meeting on this” at 5:48 PM on a Friday. But the older I get, the more I feel it, that name still fits.

It’s not about caste or status or bloodline superiority. Let’s be clear: this isn’t one of those “I descend from warriors, therefore I am superior at Excel” kind of blogs. Far from it. If your surname is not kshyattriya, your battles are just as real. I’m only tying this metaphor to my name because it’s the lens I was handed, or let’s say, inherited.

And what a lens it is.

Because when I step into the madness of overlapping sprints, last-minute scope changes, unrealistic client expectations, or team burnout, I do feel like I’m at war. But not against people. Not even against the work.

I’m fighting deadlines.

Now, a deadline is a funny enemy. It doesn’t shout. It doesn’t charge at you with a spear. It just sits there on the calendar, pretending to be innocent. Quiet. Still. But it’s always moving closer. And if you’ve ever worked in a high-pressure environment, you know, deadlines don’t need to attack. They just wait. And that’s scarier.

Some days, I conquer it. The team aligns. The timelines hold. The plan flows. And when I hit “send” on that deliverable, or when we deploy a product on time, and there is not compilation error, it does feel like a small victory parade. Not with drums and elephants, but with coffee and group chats filled with “we did it” emojis.

On other days, the deadline wins.

Things slip. Someone drops the ball. I overpromise. A dependency explodes at the last minute. And I’m left sitting there, wondering if I should’ve done more, or if the battlefield was never winnable to begin with.

And sometimes, just sometimes, there’s a truce. A magical alignment where expectations soften, where the client gives space, where the team breathes. And we don’t just meet the deadline, we beat it with style.

But here’s the deeper part: being a modern Kshyattriya isn’t about always winning.

It’s about showing up. Holding the line. Taking the hit if needed, and standing up again the next morning. It’s about knowing that even in a digital world, there are still battles worth fighting, ones that demand strategy, focus, and yes, a kind of honour.

I don’t guard a kingdom, but I protect mental bandwidth for my team.

I don’t swing a blade, but I carve through confusion.

I don’t fight wars, but I do fight for clarity in a world addicted to chaos.

So, what does it mean to carry a name like Kshyattriya in modern times? For me, it’s not about legacy. It’s about translation. Taking the spirit of resilience and applying it to real life. Every Gantt chart. Every stakeholder syncs. Every “just checking in on this” email that hits your inbox at 11:47 PM. (Usually, I am sleeping at this time. Ssshhh)

And here’s the thing, I know I’m not alone in this. We all have our own battles. Mine just happens to echo through an old surname, but I stand shoulder to shoulder with countless warriors, each fighting their own version of pressure, expectation, burnout, and ambition. Surnames aside, the struggle is real.

So no, this blog isn’t some flag-waving anthem for ancestral pride. It’s not even about tradition. It’s just me, looking at the madness of modern work, and realizing that maybe, just maybe, my name prepared me for it.

Even if that preparation came more from symbolism than training.

I don’t wear chain armour. I wear deadline reminders.

And I’m still learning that the bravest thing you can do sometimes is to log off.

But not today. Today, we fight.