My Rotman Journey: What Being A Woman In India’s Automotive Industry Taught Me About Leadership

While others started their careers behind sleek glass doors and welcome emails, mine began in truck yards. I found myself navigating India’s commercial vehicle sector, a world shaped more by field realities than corporate conventions. At 23, I was a Territory Sales Manager, leading 16 sales managers and over 100 frontline executives across 8 districts, the vast majority (nearly all) of whom were men.

Shortly after I stepped into the role of manager, one of the longest-serving service heads asked my boss, “So, is she just holding the role until a senior is appointed?”

Then he added, “I’ve never reported to a woman before.”

Though uttered without malice, his words said everything. I wasn’t just stepping into a role, I was stepping into a space where I didn’t fit the mold. In that moment, I realized I’d have to do more; I’d have to constantly prove that I belonged in the room.

The organization had a culture of empowering young talent, and I was fortunate to take on a role with real scope and accountability early on. But the true challenges lived beyond the org chart, in our broader field network through dealerships and channel partners, where traditional mindsets, hierarchy, and long-standing ways of working often defined how leadership was perceived.

In most rooms, I was seen as a woman long before I was seen as a leader. I used to think leadership came with a title. But real leadership is built, conversation by conversation, moment by moment. It’s something we grow into quietly, not something we’re handed.

FINDING MY VOICE IN THE ROOM

As a young woman in an overwhelmingly male-dominated domain, I was constantly navigating doubt. The kind that doesn’t show up in performance reviews but creeps in after meetings where you’re spoken over, almost always. I’ve learned something powerful since that doubt isn’t the opposite of leadership; it’s part of it. It keeps us grounded, honest, and alert. It’s not despite the doubt that we lead but alongside it.

When it was time to move on, I wasn’t just completing a tenure, I was asked if I’d consider staying on and contributing beyond my role. It was a quiet but deeply affirming moment.

In an ecosystem that didn’t always know how to receive someone like me, I had earned trust the long way – not by demanding space, but by showing up consistently, especially when it would’ve been easier not to.

Like the time I made the difficult call to reassign one of our longest-tenured district heads with deep internal influence whose resistance to change was quietly stalling performance. It meant risking backlash, a move that ruffled feathers but turned around our numbers in under a quarter. Or when I stood up to senior leadership to challenge conventional sales targets that had no connection to actual on-ground market conditions. I backed it with data, but more importantly, with the conviction that our team deserved strategy, not blind pressure.

These weren’t headline moments. But they mattered. Because each one quietly reshaped expectations of what I could do, how I led, and who belonged in the room. One conversation, one bold decision, one hard day at a time.

FROM MARGINS TO MEANING

As I looked ahead, my career wasn’t pivoting, it was expanding. The same leadership muscle that helped me thrive in sales now found expression in new spaces, which were less about margins and more about meaning. I began contributing to community-led initiatives focused on women navigating some of life’s hardest realities, in ways that felt personal and purposeful. It was a shift, not just in industry, but in intention. Passion may open doors in this space, but only deep commitment helps one stay committed. I volunteered with nonprofits, mentored young girls, built grassroots partnerships, and helped a few women become financially independent, often through quiet, behind-the-scenes work.

One woman I worked with was a survivor of domestic abuse, raising three young children on her own. I connected her with a small group that offered basic tailoring training. Soon, word spread in the neighborhood, and she began receiving custom orders, slowly building her own stream of income. I helped her open her first bank account, price her work, and set delivery timelines. Within six months, she was not only earning consistently, but had also regained a sense of agency she thought she’d lost forever. Today, she calls her sewing machine “my office.”

This phase reminded me that impact doesn’t always come with a job title, sometimes with deep conviction and consistent effort.

Around that time, I felt a strong pull to build something of my own. What started as a casual conversation about an underutilized space gradually turned into the blueprint for a rooftop dining space, something I felt was missing in the part of India I was living in, at that time. Despite being densely populated and fast-growing, the town lacked thoughtfully designed spaces where people could unwind over good food and conversation.

It started small, just sketches and menu notes in a journal, but soon I was knee-deep in everything. From curating the concept and overseeing the interiors to running food trials, learning the art of mixology, hiring staff, setting pricing, and working closely with vendors, I handled every step.

Though I stepped away when I moved for my MBA, the venture continues to run. But, it wasn’t just about opening a restaurant. It was about navigating ambiguity, building from scratch, and learning how every decision, visual, operational, or financial, shapes the customer experience. That process rekindled my creative instincts and showed me how much I enjoy operating at the intersection of strategy, creativity and people.

It was the first time I truly saw how intuition, creativity, and structure could co-exist and it reignited something in me. It also revealed something deeper: I loved building. Not just products or services, but stories, systems, and spaces where people could feel something.

WHY AN MBA? WHY ROTMAN?

By the time I had led large sales teams, built social impact partnerships, and launched a venture from scratch, one thing became clear: I didn’t want to keep relying on intuition alone. I wanted the tools, frameworks, and global exposure to take my instincts and turn them into repeatable, scalable strategies.

An MBA wasn’t just a pivot; it was a deepening and I wasn’t looking for a reset but a refinement. I had seen the ground realities, from production floors of truck manufacturing plants to boardrooms, from community centers to branding brainstorms, and I wanted to zoom out, to see how all these pieces fit into the larger picture of how businesses grow, evolve, and serve.

As an international student, this was a big decision and an even bigger investment. I considered several schools across regions, each with strong reputations and global networks.

But I kept coming back to Rotman School of Management at the University of Toronto. Not just because it’s Canada’s most prestigious business school or because of its strong placement outcomes although those mattered a lot too. But because it didn’t just feel like a business school, it felt like a space where ambition and authenticity could co-exist. The moment I discovered Rotman’s focus on business design, I knew this was more than a conventional MBA. It wasn’t just about learning strategy, it was about learning to question it.

And while rankings and ROI were important, what ultimately helped me decide was the feeling of fit. The kind that reminded me of product-market fit. I wanted to be in a space that was rigorous, but also deeply human. Rotman felt like that space.

And, on my first visit, when I stood in front of the pink staircase, bright, bold and unapologetic, it felt symbolic of everything I was stepping into: a place that encourages different paths, not just polished ones. It was the perfect welcome to a journey I knew would challenge me, change me, and truly begin here because: Here’s where it changes.

HOW I GOT IN

Honestly, I focused a lot on self-awareness and storytelling. I didn’t try to be the “perfect” candidate, I focused on being the most authentic version of myself. My background wasn’t typical: I moved from engineering to automotive sales, then to nonprofit work, and eventually launched a restaurant, with plenty of unexpected turns in between too. But instead of glossing over the switches, I leaned into them.

Rather than treating the application like a checklist, I treated it like a conversation, one where I had to be honest, thoughtful, and specific. That meant spending time on introspection, understanding what mattered to me, and articulating not just what I had done, but why and how it shaped me and also how it shaped the kind of business leader I want to become. That became the heart of my application.

As an international student, I was very aware of the investment I was making, financially and emotionally, so I made sure to research the school deeply and understand exactly why Rotman was the right fit for me. And as a woman, I didn’t try to overcompensate. I just told my truth. The fact that I’d had to lead in rooms where I wasn’t expected to lead, that did matter.

I think what ultimately helped me stand out wasn’t a perfect resume or a perfect application, but a clear, authentic story with a strong sense of self and purpose.

MY ROTMAN JOURNEY SO FAR

I’m currently in my second year at Rotman, and if there’s one word I’d use to describe the experience, it’s expanding. Not just in terms of what I’m learning, but in how I think, lead, and collaborate.

Honestly, my journey at Rotman so far has been nothing short of intense but in the best possible way. It’s the kind of intensity where you’re constantly being stretched mentally, emotionally, and even physically. From back-to-back case competitions and team projects to coffee-chats, 2 a.m. brainstorming sessions, early morning classes after networking events, last-minute slide edits, juggling club responsibilities, and the quiet pressure of figuring out your next big move, all while trying to be present and absorb everything around you. Along the way, I’ve also got the chance to shape the student experience through Executive positions in WiMA (Women in Management Association) and RAMS (Rotman Association of Marketing and Strategy), which has added a whole new layer of dimension to my MBA.

But somewhere between all the chaos and the caffeine, I’ve felt myself evolving.

One of the most impactful courses for me has been Business Design. It completely shifted how I think about problem-solving. Instead of jumping straight into solutions, which as an engineer I’ve always had a bias for, it forced me to slow down and deeply understand the context, the users, the real needs. It’s one thing to solve a problem, but another to solve the right problem. And because it’s so rooted in systems thinking and human behavior, it tied together many of the threads from my past experiences and gave me a structured way to bring both empathy and logic into every decision. And great business design doesn’t start with knowing the answer, but with understanding the problem.

Over the summer, I interned at a boutique consulting firm where I led marketing and client engagement strategy. It gave me a front-row seat to how strategy plays out in fast-paced environments. But if I had to pick the most formative experience so far, it would be my ongoing exchange at Copenhagen Business School. A year ago, I landed in Canada with two suitcases and more questions than answers, I never imagined I’d soon be heading to Europe, not as a tourist, but as a student ready to soak in a whole new way of thinking. Beyond academics, the city is teaching me to slow down and to live with intention. Of course, it hasn’t been easy. New city, new pace, new cultural codes. But in that very discomfort, I am growing, as a learner, a traveler, and most importantly, as a person.

And somewhere between the midnight case slides, café catchups, and the quiet moments of reflection at Rotman, I feel like I’m building muscles I didn’t know I had, learning to work across disciplines, across cultures, and in a world that doesn’t always give you clean problems to solve.

WHAT COMES NEXT

My journey so far has been anything but linear and that’s exactly what I want to hold on to. For me, the goal after the MBA isn’t predictability. It’s purpose.

I want to build a career that brings together all the pieces I’ve collected along the way: the analytical mindset of engineering, the grit of sales, the creativity of marketing, the empathy of nonprofit work, and the strategic thinking and love for building and solving, I uncovered through entrepreneurship. I’ve always believed that life is a series of patterns, some we observe, some we create, and some that take us by surprise. Each chapter has shaped how I think and who I want to become as a business leader. Whether building businesses or narratives, I’m driven by a love for connecting dots between what people feel, what data reveals, and what strategy demands.

I’m especially drawn to roles that sit at the intersection of strategy, business design, and human centricity. I’ve realized I thrive in ambiguity, in spaces where I have to connect the dots across disciplines, across domains and across people.

Rotman is helping me build that muscle, not by offering predictability, but by pushing me to embrace ambiguity with confidence. Through case competitions, design thinking, leadership labs, and everyday conversations, I’m learning not just how to solve problems, but how to frame them more meaningfully.

What’s next is still unfolding. But I know this: I want to build toward work that is strategic, thoughtful and deeply human. I am an engineer whose life isn’t quite engineered yet … and that’s exactly how I like it.

Bio: Shriya Khurana is in her second year at University of Toronto’s Rotman School of Management. She holds executive positions in WiMA (Women in Management Association) and RAMS (Rotman Association of Marketing and Strategy).  

 

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