This is what leadership looks like—no title required. The degree? Irrelevant. The lack of industry awards? Forgettable. What stood out was her mindset—open, curious, and rooted in reality.
Mona Poonja
Global Talent Acquisition Lead
TASC Outsourcing – Global Hiring – Saudi Arabia and UAE
Mumbai, Maharashtra, India
The Candidate Who Didn’t Stand Out—At First: Her résumé lay on my desk, unimpressive at first glance. She had steady experience, nothing particularly remarkable. No Ivy League degree, no fancy company logos, no “top performer” awards jumping off the page. I almost moved her to the “maybe later” pile. But her cover letter made me pause. It wasn’t perfect—there were grammatical slips and an awkward sentence or two—but it told a story. She’d led a small local project in her community, rallying volunteers to set up a skill-training camp for underprivileged women. It wasn’t corporate stuff, but there was heart.
I remember, it was a rainy Tuesday afternoon—one of those grey, reflective days when even the hum of the air-conditioner seems softer as if the entire office has wrapped itself in thought. Outside, rain drummed gently on the windows, blurring the skyline into shades of silver. In my cosy office, I was preparing for yet another interview. After years in recruitment, interviews had become part of my rhythm—shortlisted profiles, structured questions, polished conversations. I could go through the motions almost blind-folded. I believed I was good at it, even great. I knew what I was looking for: a strong résumé, matching experience, and sharp communication skills.
That day, however, something would shift. Something quiet, unplanned, and deeply human would change the way I looked at hiring forever.
I looked at her and I remember thinking, maybe she deserves a conversation, if not be hired. She was here, So was I. I could at least give her the time of day.
When she walked in, I noticed she was nervous but not defeated. Her demeanor was humble, lacking a confident swagger that comes with the premium college education or even the “sales pitch” tone I was so accustomed to. Her voice trembled a little at first, but her eyes carried a quiet determination.
What followed was not a polished performance—it was an honest dialogue.
Beyond the Checkboxes
I began with the usual questions:
“Tell me about your current role.”
“What’s your biggest achievement so far?”
Her answers were not designed to impress. They were simple but thoughtful. She didn’t recite company jargon or inflate her responsibilities. When she spoke about mistakes, she owned them. When she described team efforts, she highlighted others before herself.
I asked how she handled a project that went off track. Instead of deflecting blame, she said quietly, “I realized I was afraid to speak up early on, and that made things worse. I’ve learned now to raise a concern even if it feels uncomfortable.” Learnt to raise a red flag when needed. You go, girl. That’s good learning.
That sentence—it hit me. I’d spent years interviewing candidates trained to appear confident at all costs. They often delivered perfect narratives, stories so smooth they almost felt scripted. Yet, here was someone admitting her vulnerability, and instead of weakness, I saw courage.
It reminded me of something I had forgotten—that growth begins with self-awareness.
The Moment I Realized I Was Wrong
Halfway through the conversation, my internal checklist started to fall apart. The degree? Irrelevant. The lack of industry awards? Forgettable. What stood out was her mindset—open, curious, and rooted in reality.
For years, I thought hiring was about finding the best match between job description and résumé. I looked for alignment on paper before looking for alignment in purpose. But this candidate made me rethink everything.
Instead of assessing what she had done, I began imagining what she could do. I saw potential, not perfection.
She asked questions—insightful ones. “How does your team handle feedback? What does success look like beyond targets?”
No candidate had asked me that before. She wasn’t just interested in the job; she was curious about the culture, about fit, about growth.
The realization came slowly but firmly—I wasn’t conducting an interview anymore. I was learning.
Taking a Chance
When the interview ended, I sat quietly for a moment, staring at her résumé again. It looked the same, but it no longer felt the same.
Something inside told me she was different. I couldn’t explain it fully then—it was instinct, not data. Every logical bone in my body said there were more experienced candidates. Yet, when I imagined the team’s future, she fit right in.
So I took a chance. I hired her.
For weeks afterward, I wondered if I had made an emotional decision instead of a professional one. But the answer revealed itself soon enough.
The Transformation
Within the first few months, she became an anchor for the team. She didn’t try to stand out; she tried to make others better. She asked questions no one else dared to ask. She spotted small inefficiencies in our workflow and quietly fixed them. She offered to mentor an intern who was struggling.
Her empathy created trust. Her growth inspired others. Slowly, her presence began to shift our team culture—from competition to collaboration, from fear of failure to openness.
There was a moment I’ll never forget. During a weekly meeting, she admitted she didn’t understand a new system introduced by our tech team. That honesty sparked an unexpected conversation—others also confessed confusion. We realized most of us were struggling silently. That one admission eventually led to a team training that improved everyone’s efficiency.
That day I thought, this is what leadership looks like—no title required.
Redefining My Hiring Philosophy
The experience forced me to unlearn years of hiring patterns. I began to realize how easily recruiters fall into the trap of “credential bias.” We often mistake polish for potential and overlook passion hiding beneath less glamorous résumés.
From that moment, I made a conscious decision: every candidate I meet deserves space to show their why, not just their what.
My interview approach evolved:
From scripted to conversational. I replaced formal, rehearsed questions with real conversations about motivation, values, and growth.
From experience to potential. Instead of asking what they had done, I began exploring what they wanted to do—and how they learned from past challenges.
From perfection to authenticity. I stopped rewarding overconfidence and started valuing honesty, self-reflection, and emotional intelligence.
I also redefined what “fit” meant. It wasn’t about mirroring the team’s current profile; it was about complementing it. Diversity—in background, perspective, and thought—makes teams stronger.
More Lessons Along the Way
After that pivotal moment, I began consciously applying this mindset across my interviews. And interestingly, similar stories started unfolding.
One candidate, a military veteran, applied for a project management role. His résumé lacked corporate experience, but he spoke about handling high-pressure missions and leading diverse groups in uncertain conditions. The humility and precision with which he described responsibility impressed me more than any corporate credential could. He joined our operations team and later became one of our best crisis managers.
Another time, a young graduate came for an internship interview. She didn’t ace the technical test, but she brought a portfolio of failed experiments from her college projects—each annotated with lessons learned. When I asked why she hadn’t edited them out, she said, “Because failure is part of my progress.” That answer stayed with me. She turned out to be exceptionally resourceful, learning faster than most experienced hires.
These stories reaffirmed a truth I had glimpsed on that rainy Tuesday: skills are trainable, but attitude is not. A résumé might show where someone has been, but their mindset shows where they’re capable of going.
Conversations That Build Trust
Since that day, I’ve begun approaching interviews as shared conversations rather than assessments. The traditional format—question, answer, score—felt mechanical. Now, I aim for dialogue: a genuine exchange of curiosity from both sides.
When I meet a candidate now, I ask:
“What kind of work gives you energy?” “How do you recover from setbacks?” “Tell me about a time you helped someone succeed.”
These questions reveal authenticity more than any technical question ever could. They show me how a person thinks, collaborates, and grows. And more importantly, they tell me whether this person would uplift the team culture.
Trust, after all, begins with truth.
The Broader Impact
As this new hiring philosophy took root, our organization began to notice real change. Teams became more engaged. Collaboration improved. There was less turnover because people felt valued for who they were, not just what they produced.
We started running “story-based interviews” as a standard practice—asking candidates to share personal experiences that demonstrated adaptability and learning. The quality of hires transformed dramatically.
Our managers also began thinking differently. Instead of demanding “the perfect fit,” they started asking, “Who will grow with us?” The shift from transactional hiring to relational hiring reshaped our entire recruitment culture.
The Rainy Tuesday That Started It All
Sometimes, I still think back to that rainy Tuesday. The rain outside the windows, the quiet hum of the air conditioner, the sound of her gentle voice explaining how she turned mistakes into lessons. It feels like a lifetime ago, yet its impact ripples across every hiring decision I make.
She remains one of the best hires I’ve ever made. Within a few years, she grew into a leadership role, training newer team members and championing learning culture within the company. And every time I see her mentoring others, I’m reminded that I almost missed the chance to hire her—because I was looking for perfection instead of potential.
What I Now Look For
Today, when I walk into an interview, I’m no longer hunting for flawless résumés. I’m searching for three simple traits:
Curiosity: The hunger to ask questions, explore, and keep learning.
Integrity: The willingness to take responsibility and stay true to values.
Resilience: The ability to bounce back, adapt, and thrive through change.
These are the qualities that build lasting careers—and lasting teams. They turn ordinary workplaces into thriving ecosystems of growth and innovation.
Closing Reflection
That one conversation redefined my entire understanding of hiring. It reminded me that the human story behind the résumé matters more than the résumé itself. It taught me to listen beyond words—to hear the energy, honesty, and intention behind them.
The lesson I took away that day was simple, yet profound: hire for mindset, nurture for skill.
Every interview since then feels like an opportunity to discover who someone is, not just what they do. Because one rainy afternoon taught me that sometimes, hidden behind an unassuming résumé, lies the spark that can ignite an entire organization’s growth.
And to this day, when I meet a candidate who reminds me of that moment—humble, authentic, curious—I feel a quiet sense of gratitude. It reminds me that the best hiring decisions aren’t made from checklists or algorithms. They’re made from listening deeply, seeing people as they are, and believing in who they can become.
Based in Mumbai, India, Mona Poonja is the Global Talent Acquisition Lead, TASC Outsourcing – Global Hiring – Saudi Arabia and UAE. She has earlier worked as the Regional Lead for Talent Acquisition at Amicorp Group, an advisory firm with 40 offices in 30 countries. Poonja has also worked in HR at the Bennett, Coleman & Co, owners of the Times of India Media Group and also as the Global Diversity and Inclusion Partner at nVent.
The views expressed in this article are the author’s own.
