Every year, around May and June, one of India’s most closely watched examinations unfolds: the Union Public Service Commission (UPSC) Civil Services Examination. With a success rate of under 1 per cent, lakhs of aspirants pursue a single goal of entering bureaucracy.
Widely regarded as among the toughest exams in the world, it moves through three demanding stages — prelims, mains, and the interview. Each stage narrows the field and raises the stakes.
Some advance, most don’t. However, failure does not mean the end. It means starting over. Returning to the same syllabus, the same books, the same routine, with the belief that the next attempt might succeed. At times, that ‘next time’ feels distant. Yet, they persist.
The cycle rarely pauses. Even before one attempt concludes, coaching centres launch new batches as early as March — separate tracks for students and working professionals, along with prelims-focused courses, optional subject classes, and a steady stream of mock tests.
The ecosystem keeps expanding, much like the aspirant pool, cutting across disciplines and backgrounds.
On National Civil Services Day, which marks Sardar Vallabhbhai Patel’s 1947 address describing civil servants as the “steel frame” of the nation, TNIE looks beyond those who make it. To those still in the grind, what drives them, and what it is like to remain within this cycle.
Why do aspirants continue despite immense pressure and daunting odds? For Harish A, who has attempted the exam four times, it comes down to persistence and a long-held ambition.
“Becoming an IPS officer has been my passion since childhood. I haven’t cleared it yet, but I don’t want the time and effort I have invested to go to waste. I have grown used to the demands of the exam, so giving up now doesn’t feel right,” he says.
He adds that many clear the exam in their fifth or even final attempt — reason enough for him to continue until his chances are exhausted.
For Vaishakh S, who began preparation after completing his integrated MSc in Physics from IISER, it is the nature of the exam itself that appeals most.
“What attracted me was the difficulty,” he smiles. “I have never studied this much before, and I didn’t realise how far I could push myself. There’s a curiosity to understand my own potential.”
He points to the breadth of the syllabus as another draw. “It’s like being a jack of all trades — you are not confined to one subject. It gives a broader perspective,” says Vaishakh.
“It’s not just book knowledge. Awareness and application are vital. And there’s always space for interpretation. One is asked to examine both sides — that really interests me. Most competitive exams have fixed answers. But here, your perspective matters. There’s no single ‘right’ answer — your approach is evaluated differently. That’s something unique.”
There is also a larger sense of purpose. “We often see problems around us and feel helpless. With the kind of power this role offers, there is hope we can make a difference,” he adds. “And of course, there’s the fame and the glory. There is a special charm about being in the civil service.”
That appeal comes with its own demands. Among aspirants, UPSC is often mockingly called the ‘Unpredictable Service Commission’ for the loop it creates.
“At times, one wonders if this preparation is consuming young talent that could contribute elsewhere,” says Madhumita Mohan, who returned to her engineering career after two attempts. “We only see the success stories. No one speaks about the thousands who don’t clear. There is no support system.”
Many who step away find themselves unsure of what comes next. Hari Krishnan, a postgraduate who spent four years preparing, describes it as a state of limbo. “You are left confused about which path to follow. Other job prospects seem hazy by then, which pushes you to try again — trapping you in a vicious loop,” he says.
Those transitioning to other careers often face the weight of lost time and visible skill gaps. Mahesh Sathyan, now working at an American bank in Bengaluru, reflects on his four-year attempt.
“When I started job-hunting, I realised there was a clear skill gap,” he says. “I studied nine to ten hours a day. Apart from sleep, I gave up everything — leisure reading, movies, social media, even meeting friends. By the end, I was close to burnout. I turned to yoga and meditation to reboot.”
Peer and societal pressure add to the burden. “There’s often ridicule and a loss of identity if one fails to clear. Some choose to move abroad to start afresh,” says another aspirant, who requests anonymity.
Shylesh Fernandes, director of an IAS academy in Thiruvananthapuram, offers a different perspective. “The preparation and attempts will have a holistic impact,” he says.
“The knowledge that one gains is invaluable. General awareness expands, discipline improves, writing and communication skills get polished. These give a clear edge when an aspirant chooses to attend some other entrance test,” he points out.
Notably, Shylesh himself was an aspirant before he founded the academy in 2014. He closely relates to what aspirants go through. “The strict regimen strengthens mental fortitude. It opens up new vistas. All that one learns will help one way or another,” he says.
Indeed, many who have tread this path acknowledge the lessons the journey offers. Anusha R, who cleared the exam in 2023 and is now an Indian Revenue Service officer, recalls a path marked by “uncertainty and financial strain”.
“I had studied every standard book and attended classes, yet I couldn’t clear. I started job hunting so I wouldn’t depend on my parents,” she says, adding that she had taken up an IT job while balancing eight-hour workdays with preparation.
“For most aspirants, who study eight to ten hours a day, life comes to revolve around three seasons — prelims, mains, and interview. There were times I doubted myself. But I held on to the belief that I would make it. That paid off.”
It is this endurance, she believes, that defines the journey. “That’s what transforms you,” says Anusha. “No one truly loses here — whether you clear the exam or not. The process leaves you with a steely resilience.”