Category: Reflections

  • The Spirit of Diwali: Lighting the Lamp Within

    The Spirit of Diwali: Lighting the Lamp Within

    Diwali has always been a time of joy, togetherness, and rekindling old memories. This year, the festival brought a special sense of closeness as my siblings and I sat with our mother, reliving our childhood stories. As we laughed about old memories — like our mischievous cow ‘Soma’ causing chaos every time a guest arrived or the carefree nights spent counting stars from the rooftop — it felt as if we were transported back to those simpler times.

    Today, as an eldest son, a husband, father, brother, and colleague, Diwali still serves as a bridge to those cherished memories of carefree days. Even though our lives have evolved and our childhood home has been transformed, the warmth of those memories and the laughter we share keep the spirit of Diwali alive. It’s this bond and the enduring love that make the festival so meaningful, year after year.

    Diwali and the Journey of Personal Growth

    As a child, Diwali was all about firecrackers, sweets, and fun. Sitting through the pooja felt like a formality before running off to light fireworks. Now, watching my own children squirm with the same restlessness, I’m reminded of my own impatience back then. The characters in our Diwali celebration have changed — my father and grandmother are no longer here, my sisters are married, and our children now take center stage — but the spirit remains, as does the tradition of coming together.

    This passage of time has shown me how each diya we light connects the past to the future, symbolizing a bridge between generations. Each flame not only honors cherished memories but also passes on values and traditions to the next generation. Diwali is no longer just an external celebration; it’s a moment to come together, build new memories, and rekindle the old ones, filling us with a sense of continuity and renewed energy. It’s in these shared experiences that we find strength, warmth, and a reminder of what truly matters.

    Lakshmi and Saraswati: Balancing Prosperity with Wisdom

    As children, prosperity during Diwali meant sweets, new clothes, and presents. But over the years, I’ve come to see the deeper meaning in the balance between wealth and wisdom. Growing up, our grandmother would often remind us of an old saying: “Goddess Lakshmi, the goddess of wealth, doesn’t stay long without Saraswati, the goddess of wisdom.” She would say this to encourage us to pursue our studies diligently, believing that true prosperity comes not just from material wealth but from the richness of knowledge and insight.

    Today, as I reflect on Diwali’s meaning, I understand this deeper wisdom. Just as Diwali prompts us to clean our homes and prepare to welcome prosperity, it also invites us to clear our minds and make room for growth and understanding. By investing in learning and self-awareness, we ensure that the blessings we receive are lasting and truly fulfilling.

    The Ripple Effect: How Knowledge and Growth Impact Society

    Just as light spreads from one diya to another, the growth we experience also radiates outward, impacting others. Reflecting on our family’s Diwali celebration this year, I realized how much this togetherness means not only to us but to those around us.

    For instance, after walking my sister to her e-rickshaw, the driver told her how our closeness inspired him to reconnect with his own sister, whom he hadn’t visited in a long time. Hearing this, I was filled with a unique sense of happiness — it reminded me that small gestures and family bonds have a way of sparking positive changes, even in strangers. Just like Diwali lights up our homes, our actions can inspire others to bring light into their own lives, creating a ripple effect of goodwill and unity.

    Diwali’s Nostalgia: Finding Light in Shared Memories

    Reminiscing with my siblings about those early years also reminded us of the little things that added magic to our lives — counting stars on the rooftop, sharing stories under the night sky, and simply being together. Today, the stars may be fewer and the world busier, but these memories continue to shine brightly, illuminating our minds and hearts.

    Diwali gives us the chance to relive these moments, to be grateful for the love we’ve shared, and to strengthen the bonds that ground us. It’s these memories, these connections, that keep us resilient and remind us of who we are and where we come from. The laughter, warmth, and togetherness we share give us the strength to face any adversity with optimism and love.

    Conclusion: Diwali’s Blessing of Light and a Wish for Growth

    The mantra “Tamaso ma jyotirgamaya” — “Lead us from darkness to light” — captures Diwali’s essence perfectly. This journey from childhood memories to a deeper understanding of the festival reflects how Diwali is not just a celebration of external lights but an invitation to keep our inner flame burning brightly. May we carry forward this light in all aspects of life, sharing it through our actions, kindness, and personal growth.

    As we celebrate Diwali, may it bring strength, peace, and purpose, helping us embrace both joy and inner illumination. Wishing everyone a Diwali filled with light, laughter, and love.

  • A Path to Authentic Growth: Personality, Perception, and Feedback

    A Path to Authentic Growth: Personality, Perception, and Feedback

    In our personal journeys — whether as professionals, self-employed individuals, or caretakers — we constantly receive feedback from others and from life’s experiences. This feedback shapes how we see ourselves and how we are perceived. Growth begins with understanding our core selves and aligning external feedback with who we truly are. This article explores the relationship between personality, perception, and feedback and how to filter and use feedback to foster genuine personal growth.

    Understanding Yourself: The Foundation of Personal Growth

    Self-awareness is the first step toward meaningful growth. Knowing your values, strengths, and areas for improvement helps you make sense of feedback and guides your personal evolution.

    • Why It Matters: When you know yourself, you can filter feedback effectively, accepting what aligns with your goals and discarding what doesn’t.
    • Tools for Self-Discovery: Use personal assessments, journaling, or meditation for deeper insights. Personality assessments like Myers-Briggs, StrengthsFinder, and Holland Code, etc. can be helpful, but regular reflection is key.

    As Oprah Winfrey wisely said, “We can’t become what we need to be by remaining what we are.” Embracing change is essential for true growth.

    Feedback as a Mirror: Gaining Perspectives from Others

    Feedback from family, friends, or colleagues offers a mirror into how others perceive us. This reflection is valuable, but feedback is subjective and may not always reflect your true self.

    • Benefits of Feedback: It can reveal blind spots and provide perspectives you might not have considered.
    • Perception vs. Reality: Reflect on whether the feedback aligns with your core values.

    In my journey, I’ve learned to view feedback as insight, but not as the final word on who I am. It offers clues, but only I can decide what resonates with my true self.

    Analyzing the Gaps Between Self-Perception and External Perception

    Personal growth involves reconciling how we see ourselves with how others perceive us. Understanding and narrowing this gap can lead to a more harmonious life.

    • Filtering the Noise: Not all feedback is relevant. Learning to distinguish constructive feedback from noise is crucial.
    • Actionable Feedback: Focus on feedback that resonates with your aspirations and values.

    As Hemingway put it, “True nobility is being superior to your former self.” Growth is about becoming a better version of yourself.

    Evolving Based on Aspirations

    Growth is not just about improving weaknesses; it’s about evolving toward who you aspire to be. This evolution should be guided by your values and aspirations, not solely by external expectations.

    • Aligning Growth with Values: Growth feels authentic when it aligns with your core values. Use feedback that helps you evolve genuinely.
    • Pursuing Meaningful Growth: Focus on areas that bring you joy, fulfillment, and a sense of purpose.

    For me, evolving to satisfy both personal and professional goals requires a clear understanding of what feedback is actionable.

    Continuous Evolution: Feedback as a Constant Guide

    As a Chinese proverb advises, “Do not fear slow progress; only fear standing still.” Personal growth is a lifelong process. Regular feedback loops — through experiences, conversations, or self-reflection — help you grow consistently.

    • Embracing a Growth Mindset: Approach development with a mindset that seeks new ways to evolve while staying true to your values.
    • Creating a Feedback Filter: Develop the ability to filter out what serves you and discard what doesn’t.

    Listening for Unspoken Feedback: Silent Cues and Subtle Signals

    Not all feedback is verbal; the most powerful insights often come from observing life’s responses to your actions.

    • Reading Between the Lines: Unspoken feedback, like how people react to your presence, often offers honest insights.
    • Growth Through Observation: Reflect on experiences to identify patterns and lessons that guide your growth.

    Silent feedback from my environment has taught me profound lessons about myself.

    Finding Your Support System: The Power of a Trusted Circle

    A trusted circle of friends or confidants is invaluable for growth. These individuals can provide honest, constructive feedback.

    • Why It Matters: A trusted circle creates a safe space for honest feedback and reflection.
    • Using Support for Growth: Lean on your circle for encouragement and guidance that resonates with your values.

    My closest friends and family have been instrumental in helping me stay grounded.

    Staying True to Yourself: Authenticity Amid Expectations

    It’s easy to lose sight of who you are while meeting others’ expectations. Staying true to yourself is key to long-term growth and happiness.

    • Finding Balance: Adapt when necessary, but never compromise your core values.
    • Recognizing When You’re Off Course: If you find yourself adjusting too much, step back and realign with your true self.

    Staying authentic has been my guiding principle. Whenever I feel pulled away from who I am, I reflect and return to my core values.

    Conclusion

    Growth is a continuous journey of self-discovery and evolution. It’s about understanding yourself, filtering feedback through your values, and staying true to your aspirations. As Hemingway said, “True nobility is being superior to your former self.” By tuning into your inner voice and selectively integrating feedback that aligns with your goals, you’ll feel more fulfilled and empowered on your path to becoming your best self.

    What’s your next step on the path to personal growth? Take a moment to consider your self-perception, the feedback you’ve received, and your future aspirations. How can you begin aligning your actions today with the person you wish to become tomorrow?

  • The Quest for Balance: Journey Through Life’s Demands

    The Quest for Balance: Journey Through Life’s Demands

    In a distant kingdom, nestled between lush fields and serene rivers, there lived a court official named Arjun. Tasked with overseeing the affairs of the village and the grand palace, Arjun once took great pride in his role. However, as the years passed, the weight of his responsibilities became a heavy burden. The demands of the nobles, the expectations of the villagers, and the unending orders from the king left him feeling overwhelmed and defeated.

    Each day, Arjun rushed from one task to another, his heart growing heavier with every step. The joy that once fueled his dedication was replaced with frustration and resentment. He began to loathe the very environment that had once inspired him — the palace’s grandeur, the villagers’ needs, and even the laughter of his children at home. Instead of seeking solutions, he blamed the world around him for his discontent.

    One day, while wandering through the village in search of clarity, Arjun encountered an elder. This wise figure, with a gentle smile and eyes that sparkled with wisdom, observed the official’s troubled expression. Clad in simple garments that hinted at many travels, the elder’s presence radiated tranquility. “What troubles your heart, young one?” he inquired.

    With a heavy sigh, Arjun poured out his woes, lamenting how the pressures of duty had robbed him of joy and peace. The elder listened patiently, then invited him to sit by the riverbank. There, amidst the sound of flowing water and rustling leaves, the elder shared insights that would change Arjun’s life.

    “Life can feel like a river, can’t it?” the elder began, gazing at the water. “Sometimes it flows gently, other times it surges ahead, carrying us with it. Do you feel swept away by the current?”

    Arjun nodded, his brow furrowed. “Yes, I do. I don’t know how to escape it.”

    The elder smiled. “Perhaps it’s not about escaping. The river flows with purpose, not blindly. It follows its course. Maybe instead of fighting the current, prefer to navigate it.”

    “What do you mean by navigating?” Arjun asked, intrigued but uncertain.

    “Like the river,” the elder explained, “your life has its own rhythm. It’s not about doing everything at once but choosing the stones — your priorities — that will keep you steady. If you focus on what matters, you won’t feel overwhelmed by what doesn’t.”

    “But how do I know what to focus on? Every demand feels urgent.”

    The elder’s gaze softened. “It’s not about the urgency of the tasks, but their true value. Ask yourself, what truly deserves your time and energy? The stones you choose should support your journey, not weigh you down.”

    Arjun sat quietly, absorbing the words. “I used to enjoy my children’s laughter, but now, it feels distant. It’s all been overshadowed by duty.”

    The elder nodded. “Joy is found in those moments. The sun rises and sets every day, giving us the same hours to use. It’s not about how much time we have, but how we engage with it. Each sunrise is a new chance to choose wisely.”

    Arjun looked up. “So, it’s about finding peace in the midst of it all, not just trying to complete everything?”

    “Exactly,” the elder replied. “Balance is not about clearing your list of tasks — it’s about living fully in the moments between them. Find joy in the journey, not just in reaching the destination.”

    Intrigued and stirred by the conversation, Arjun decided to try what the elder had suggested. He didn’t yet fully understand the depth of the elder’s words, but something inside him urged him to act on them. He returned to the palace and village with a different mindset, seeking not only to fulfill his duties but to savor the moments in between. Instead of racing through tasks, he found himself pausing to appreciate the interactions with villagers and family alike.

    One day, weeks after his conversation with the elder, Arjun found himself unexpectedly pausing during a quiet evening at the palace. It was a rare moment when the bustle of his duties had subsided, and the soft glow of twilight filled the sky. As he stood at the palace balcony, gazing at the village below, a deep sense of calm washed over him.

    He noticed how the villagers were returning home from the fields, laughing and talking with their families. The sight triggered something in Arjun — a realization that these simple, everyday moments, which he had once taken for granted, were the very essence of joy and peace.

    Suddenly, he recalled the elder’s words by the river. They resonated more deeply than ever before. It wasn’t just the elder’s wisdom that had stayed with him — it was how Arjun had slowly, unconsciously, shifted his approach to life since their meeting.

    It was in this moment of stillness that Arjun began to reflect. He retraced his steps, looking at how he had started to cherish both his duties and the small joys of life. As the reflection deepened, Arjun distilled the elder’s teachings into key themes, realizing that these lessons had guided him to his newfound sense of balance:

    1. Mindset Shift: The problem is not the world, but how you choose to engage with it.

    2. Finite Hours: Time is limited; use it wisely and with purpose.

    3. Prioritization: Focus on what truly matters, letting go of the rest.

    4. Effective Communication: Align those around you through clear, sincere dialogue.

    5. Mindfulness: Be present and savor the small moments that bring joy.

    As the sun set over the kingdom, painting the sky in hues of gold and crimson, Arjun felt a deep sense of gratitude. He understood now that balance wasn’t just about completing tasks or fulfilling every demand, but about nurturing his spirit amidst those demands.

    Just as his responsibilities in the palace would never end, so too would life’s demands continue for everyone, in every time. But Arjun’s peace came not from changing the world around him, but from changing how he walked through it — by being present, cherishing small moments, and focusing on what truly mattered.

    The elder’s words had been the catalyst, but the real transformation came from Arjun’s choice to live them. Perhaps that, Arjun thought as the stars twinkled above, was the true secret to navigating life’s river: not to fight the current, but to learn the art of balance within it.

    Whether in an ancient kingdom or a modern city, the quest for balance is a journey we all must take, each in our own way!

  • AI in Writing: Innovation or the End of Deep Thinking?

    AI in Writing: Innovation or the End of Deep Thinking?

    As AI continues to revolutionize various industries, it has made its way into the world of writing. Tools like these can help streamline the creative process, improving efficiency and clarity. But while the convenience of AI is undeniable, it also raises important questions: Is AI merely assisting writers, or is it undermining the cognitive benefits of writing? Are we losing something vital in the process?

    This article will explore the debate over AI’s role in writing, comparing it to traditional practices like ghostwriting, and diving into the potential long-term effects on human thinking. In the end, we’ll seek to find a balanced approach, leveraging AI without sacrificing the benefits of deep, critical thought.

    My Personal Experience Using AI in Writing

    As the writer of this very article, I’ve embraced AI as a part of my writing process. To give you insight into how I work, here’s a behind-the-scenes look at how AI fits into my creative journey.

    I start by brainstorming topics and selecting one that resonates. I then provide a detailed outline, raw content, and examples to be used. The AI assists in generating a draft based on this input.

    After the initial draft is produced, I review it and use AI to assess it from various angles — readability, enrichment, freshness, and simplicity, etc.. This iterative process involves a lot of back-and-forth: refining the draft based on my and AI’s suggestions, reworking sections, and ensuring that the final product meets my standards. This method allows me to quickly refine the article, freeing me to focus on other activities while still expressing my thoughts effectively. It also helps me tackle ideas that I might have otherwise discarded due to time constraints or distractions.

    AI as a Tool for Enhancing Writing

    Many writers face a common challenge: how to effectively translate ideas into written form. This is where AI steps in as a powerful tool, capable of assisting with everything from sentence structuring to grammar and tone adjustments.

    • Improving Efficiency and Clarity: AI can serve as a critical tool for increasing productivity. Writers are often bogged down by the mechanics of writing — sentence structure, word choice, grammar. AI allows you to focus on the content and ideas while it handles the fine-tuning. The result is a streamlined process that produces high-quality work faster, without compromising originality.
    • A Modern Ghostwriter? Historically, the use of ghostwriters has been common. Politicians, celebrities, and even famous authors have enlisted the help of professionals to transform their thoughts into polished pieces of writing. AI, in many ways, is a modern-day ghostwriter. It takes your ideas and organizes them into a well-crafted article, but the final content still reflects your voice and message.
    • Example of AI in Action: Consider an author working under tight deadlines, struggling to meet the word count. By using an AI tool, the writer can quickly generate an outline, get suggestions for phrasing, and even receive feedback on tone and style. This accelerates the writing process, allowing the author to focus on refining ideas rather than getting bogged down by the structure.

    The Ethical and Cognitive Concerns of Using AI

    Despite the convenience AI offers, there’s a deeper concern about what happens to our ability to think critically when we rely too much on AI for writing. Writing is not just about putting words on paper; it’s an intellectual exercise that challenges us to organize, refine, and analyze our thoughts.

    Writing as Cognitive Exercise

    Writing isn’t just a way to communicate ideas — it’s a way to develop them. The act of writing forces us to think deeply, make connections, and reflect on our assumptions. As we refine our thoughts through the process, we become better thinkers. If we outsource this part of the writing process to AI, we may miss out on these cognitive benefits.

    Shallow Thinking and AI Dependency

    The concern is that, over time, over-reliance on AI could lead to a form of shallow thinking. If we let AI handle too much of the heavy lifting, we might bypass the deeper, more rigorous aspects of thought that writing can cultivate. The result? Articles or essays that are polished and well-structured but lack depth and originality.

    The Long-Term Impact on Critical Thinking

    Studies have shown that our brains develop through challenges. Writing is one such challenge that requires us to articulate complex ideas and think critically about the information we present. If AI does most of this cognitive work for us, it could erode our ability to think independently and reflect deeply in the long run.

    Balancing the Use of AI and Human Thought

    While the risks of AI in writing are real, they don’t mean we should completely avoid it. In fact, AI can be a powerful ally in the writing process, provided it’s used thoughtfully.

    AI as a Supplement, Not a Replacement

    Rather than viewing AI as a replacement for human thought, we should treat it as a tool that enhances our work. AI can help refine language, organize ideas, and provide useful feedback, but the core ideas and critical thinking should still come from the writer. This ensures that while AI improves efficiency, the intellectual rigor of writing remains intact.

    Engaging Critically with AI Suggestions

    It’s important to actively engage with AI-generated suggestions. Writers shouldn’t accept AI content blindly. Instead, they should question whether AI’s suggestions align with their original intent and if they add value to the overall argument. By doing so, writers ensure that the final product is a true reflection of their own thinking.

    Conclusion

    AI can revolutionize writing by enhancing efficiency and clarity, but relying too much on it risks diminishing the cognitive benefits of writing, leading to shallow thinking. With a balanced approach, we can enjoy both AI’s speed and the intellectual challenge writing provides.

    By using AI as a tool to support, not replace, human thought, we maintain control over the creative process. The real challenge is not whether to use AI, but how we engage with it. Striking this balance allows us to think deeply while embracing the future of writing technology

  • The Multipliers of Clarity: How Some People Multiply Business Value

    The Multipliers of Clarity: How Some People Multiply Business Value

    You’ve probably worked with someone like this. They don’t say much in meetings. They’re rarely in a rush. They don’t fight for credit. And yet, when they’re around, everything just seems to work.

    Projects that used to drag start moving. Conversations feel clearer. Teams find rhythm again. No one can quite explain it — but with them in the mix, the system somehow aligns. It’s not charisma or luck. It’s a way of seeing.

    And before you ask — no, there’s no research paper to prove this. It’s something you notice only after years of watching projects rise and fall. Some people don’t just improve things — they multiply them.

    The People Who See the System

    Every workplace has its visible stars — the quick thinkers, the confident presenters, the ones who light up dashboards. But alongside them exist a few who see differently.

    They understand how things connect. They can sense where friction will appear and quietly smooth it out. They see how one rushed decision in design can create two weeks of rework downstream. They notice when incentives in one team silently create conflict in another.

    And to be clear — they don’t all look the same. Some are loud and visible, others are calm and understated. Some lead teams, others lead thinking. This isn’t about personality. It’s about pattern awareness — the ability to step back, connect dots, and act early.

    They might not always fit traditional molds, but they’re far from outsiders. In fact, they’re often right in the center of things — just focused on how the whole system works, not only their piece of it.

    While most people focus on doing more, these people focus on removing what doesn’t need to be done at all. That’s how they multiply productivity — not through more effort, but through better alignment.

    The Compound Effect of Curiosity

    These people rarely start out as the best performers. What sets them apart is how they learn — slowly, broadly, and constantly. They read across worlds — psychology, mathematics, strategy, philosophy, even fiction. Not to collect facts, but to understand how different systems work and fail.

    Over time, this learning compounds. They start to see patterns that repeat everywhere — in behavior, markets, organizations, even themselves. That steady accumulation of insight slowly turns into foresight.

    What looks like instinct from the outside is actually years of absorbed learning — tested quietly, remembered deeply, and cross-applied intuitively. It’s not hearsay. It’s curiosity that has matured into clarity. And when they speak, it sounds like wisdom — not because they’re preaching, but because they’ve lived the pattern before. They don’t theorize. They recall. This is how constant curiosity becomes practical foresight, and reflection turns into something that feels like intuition.

    Their real gift is anticipation. They sense friction before others feel it. They might quietly adjust a timeline, realign two people before tension surfaces, or tweak a process that’s about to break under pressure. Problems don’t reach them — because they’ve already met them halfway.

    When they’re around, everything feels smoother. But that ease isn’t luck — it’s invisible work, built on pattern recognition and foresight. The fires they prevent never make it into reports. Their impact is hard to measure, but impossible to replace.

    A Different Rhythm, a Deeper Impact

    These people don’t always operate at the same tempo as everyone else. They pause where others rush. They ask questions that momentarily slow the room — but those same questions prevent weeks of rework later.

    They think out loud, explore broadly, and sometimes look like they’re moving slower — but they’re seeing further. In a world that prizes speed, they invest in understanding.

    Their process takes longer to show results, but those results last. What looks like detours become shortcuts later. They’re not inefficient — they’re building clarity that compounds. Their curiosity matures over time into a kind of calm precision.

    How to Recognize Them

    You won’t find them through dashboards or quarterly reviews. You notice them in conversation. They make complex things sound simple — not by dumbing them down, but by getting to the root of what matters. Or they connect dots so far apart that you need a moment to catch up.

    They ask questions that stop the room — the kind that shift the discussion from “how” to “why.” They bring energy that steadies, not noise that distracts. And when they’re empowered, the whole organization starts to move with more coherence, calm, and confidence.

    The Edge That Endures

    Tools and technologies will keep changing — mobile, cloud, AI, and everything that follows. But the people who can see systems early will always stay relevant. When tools change, they learn them. When complexity grows, they simplify it. When the environment shifts, they reframe it until it makes sense again.

    The long time they’ve spent learning and crafting their thoughts stays with them for life. It becomes part of their lens — a quiet foundation that doesn’t age, even when everything else changes.

    They bridge what most people separate — logic and empathy, data and meaning, motion and direction. As AI handles execution, these people become even more vital. Because tools can speed up action, but only humans can see the whole system and guide it forward.

    A Closing Thought

    We talk about productivity as if it’s about doing more. But the kind that truly scales comes from people who help everyone do better.

    They turn curiosity into foresight, reflection into quiet wisdom, and learning into momentum that compounds across the system. They make work smoother, smarter, lighter — not because it’s easy, but because they’ve understood the structure beneath it.

    Every organization has them — visible or quiet, new or seasoned. Spot them. Empower them. Then watch your productivity, energy, and delivery zoom upward.

    Because when you nurture the people who see systems early, you don’t just multiply results — you multiply understanding, flow, and business value that lasts.

  • Mithu and the Secret of the Laddoo

    Mithu and the Secret of the Laddoo

    In a modest town, life flowed at its own steady pace. The marketplace was lively but ordinary — a cloth seller here, a vegetable stall there, and yes, a few halwais scattered across the streets. They sold the usual sweets: jalebis, barfis, laddoos. Nothing extraordinary.

    Among them was Mithu, a boy who grew up in the backroom of his family’s sweet shop. His grandmother had named him at birth, saying fondly, “This one will speak sweet.” The name stuck, and so did the sweets. His family had been halwais for generations — known enough to survive, but never remembered.

    But Mithu was restless. He didn’t want to be just another halwai. He wanted to be the one people spoke of first, the shop they told visitors about. He wanted to make laddoos so good that customers would come back even when there was no festival.

    That was the problem. Laddoos were simple — besan, ghee, sugar. Every halwai used the same ingredients. And during Diwali, every shop sold out anyway.

    As Mithu quietly observed, the pattern became clear: during Diwali week, his family sold 40–50 kilos a day, peaking at 80–100 on Diwali itself. But on ordinary days, sales collapsed to just 8–10 kilos. The laddoo had no loyalty. So Mithu set himself a mission:

    To make a laddoo so good that people would seek it out in every season.

    The First Failures

    He began experimenting. Some batches were too oily. Others crumbled in the hand. One looked perfect, but when he bit into it, it felt heavy, almost lifeless.

    He changed proportions — more ghee one day, less the next. He roasted the besan longer, then shorter. He tried sugar with finer crystals, then coarse grains, then jaggery.

    He even changed packaging — from plain brown paper to a neat cardboard box with the shop’s name printed in bold.

    And he asked questions. “Too sweet? Too heavy? Would you buy it again?” Customers gave polite smiles, sometimes half-truths, sometimes brutal honesty. Mithu scribbled their answers on scraps of paper, storing them in a tin under the counter.

    But the results were disappointing. Festivals brought brief joy — 70 or 80 kilos sold on Diwali — only for demand to collapse again. Most weeks, he sold no more than 8–10 kilos.

    One evening, staring at trays of unsold laddoos, Mithu muttered, “Why can’t every day be like Diwali?”

    A Father’s Reminder

    His father, who had been watching, smiled sadly. “It once was, beta.” Mithu looked up, surprised.

    “Your great-great-grandfather made laddoos people never forgot. Customers came from nearby towns just to buy from him. On ordinary days, he sold 120 to 150 kilos. During Diwali week, 600 or 700 a day. On Diwali itself, sometimes a thousand. For his customers, every day at his shop felt like Diwali.”

    Mithu’s chest tightened. His proudest peak — 80 kilos on Diwali — was what his ancestor sold on an ordinary day. His father placed a hand on his shoulder. “He didn’t wait for festivals. He built laddoos people wanted every day. That’s why they trusted him.”

    That night, Mithu opened his diary and wrote:
    “Don’t make laddoos for the tide. Make laddoos people will sail to, even when the waters are still.”

    Lessons from the Bazaar

    By the third year, Mithu’s laddoos were finally good. Regulars approved. During Diwali, his shop overflowed. Shelves emptied by noon, neighbors queued up, and Mithu worked late into the night.

    But after the season ended, silence returned. Customers vanished. His heart rose and fell with the sales.

    One evening at a tea stall, traders argued about grain prices. A grey-bearded man laughed:
    जो गिरा है, कल उठेगा. जो ऊपर गया है, कल गिरेगा।
    Meaning: What has fallen will rise tomorrow. What has risen will fall.

    Everyone chuckled. Mithu smiled too, but something clicked. He had lived that truth in his shop. Sales rose, collapsed, rose again. Boom, bust, repeat.

    That night, he wrote in his diary:
    “Don’t get carried away in highs. Don’t collapse in lows. Steady hands make steady laddoos.”

    From then on, Mithu stopped panicking at every cycle. With patience, his steady approach slowly began to show results.

    Slow Growth

    Progress came gradually. His first two years had been hopeless — daily sales of 8–10 kilos, festival peaks of 70–80. But as he tinkered, the numbers inched upward. Daily sales crept to 12–15 kilos, festival peaks to 80–100. The next year, 20–25 kilos a day, festivals 120–150.

    By his fifth year, Mithu was selling 40–50 kilos on an ordinary day, and during Diwali week 300–400. It was nowhere near his ancestor’s thousand kilos, but the tide was turning. And Mithu felt it — the laddoo was changing, and so was he.

    A Blessing from the Past

    It was around this time, during a long-overdue cleaning of the storeroom, that his servant brought him a fragile notebook, its cover faded, edges eaten by time.

    “Babuji, I found this in a box. Perhaps it belonged to the old sahib.”

    Inside were his ancestor’s notes. Not recipes, but reminders:

    • “Prepare your ingredients in advance before the festival rush.”
    • “Respect your suppliers, pay them on time.”
    • “Fulfil promises made to your helpers.”
    • “Greet each customer as a guest in your home.”
    • “And above all, strive to be the best version of yourself.”

    Mithu sat still. It felt less like reading instructions and more like receiving a blessing. The words didn’t hand him success — they confirmed the path he was already walking.

    Patience in failure. Steadiness in the tide. Awareness of patterns. Respect for people. And the commitment to keep showing up, one laddoo at a time.

    For the first time, Mithu felt not just like a halwai, but part of a lineage. A story still unfolding.

    The Timeless Laddoo

    Mithu’s laddoos had finally become what he had dreamed of — a laddoo worth remembering, a laddoo people sought out even when there was no festival. But more than a sweet, it was a journey of cycles — failure and patience, markets and tides, history and memory.

    And in that journey, he discovered something deeper: every generation must walk its own path. His great-great-grandfather, his father, and now himself — each had their own struggles, their own mistakes, their own ways of chasing the perfect laddoo.

    The principles stayed the same. The journeys were always unique. Just as in laddoos, so in life, in work, in leadership.

    The secret isn’t in chasing the grand moment. It is in showing up, improving, and carrying forward the principles — one step at a time.

  • The Systems We Work In

    The Systems We Work In

    Layoffs in Strong Companies

    In recent years, many companies have announced large rounds of layoffs, sometimes while still reporting strong financial results. For employees, this can be confusing — if the organization is not in crisis, why must people lose their jobs? For leaders, the explanation often comes down to discipline, restructuring, or preparing for uncertain times. Both views exist, both carry their own logic, and both leave questions behind.

    When Loyalty Feels Like Baggage

    From an employee’s perspective, the experience feels deeply personal.
    If times are difficult, why am I asked to face them alone instead of with the team I was part of? When did I become baggage to the organization I contributed to? If my role had become less relevant, why was I not trained earlier, when I was still inside the system?

    These questions are not about entitlement but about continuity. They reflect a belief that the collective should carry individuals through difficult times, just as individuals contribute when times are good.

    Loyalty feels different when it is not returned.

    Decisions Framed as Survival

    From the organization’s perspective, the answers sound different. A company is not designed to guarantee roles indefinitely — it is built to sustain the organization as a whole. When functions lose relevance, or when growth projections shift, leaders feel pressure to respond quickly. Redeployment or retraining may be possible in some cases, but not always at the speed markets demand. In this view, difficult choices about individuals are framed as necessary for the survival of the larger group.

    The Incentives Behind the Actions

    Beyond leaders and employees lies the system itself — the set of incentives and rules that guide how organizations behave. This system often rewards speed, efficiency, and visible action more than patience or loyalty.

    Financial markets tend to applaud cost reductions. Analysts interpret layoffs as discipline, a signal that leadership is willing to act decisively. Boards measure success through quarterly earnings and margins, which rarely capture the value of culture, trust, or long-term skill building. Governments, depending on context, may provide safety nets or remain hands-off, but in either case the boundaries of action are set outside the control of individuals.

    In such a design, our behavior is shaped less by personal values and more by the incentives around us. A leader may believe in shared sacrifice, but if delaying layoffs leads to investor pressure and falling stock value, the space to act differently narrows. An employee may believe that loyalty secures belonging, but if the system defines relevance in terms of financial contribution, that loyalty holds limited weight.

    The result is a cycle: growth slows, analysts downgrade, boards push for action, companies announce cuts, stock prices rise, executives are rewarded, and employees absorb the disruption. No single actor sets this chain in motion, but each of us plays our part within it.

    The machine moves, even when no one wants to push it.

    The Visibility of Leadership Choices

    Layoffs are often framed as difficult but necessary — yet the financial impact rarely falls evenly. Employees lose their jobs, while executives often retain their compensation or even receive rewards for cost-cutting. From the outside, this creates a visible contrast between those who carry the immediate loss and those who continue to lead.

    Leaders operate under constant pressure from boards, markets, and investors to act quickly and maintain confidence. Their pay structures, often set long in advance, are designed to signal continuity and control, not indifference. Cutting their own compensation may have little financial effect but can introduce new risks — unsettling markets or creating uncertainty when steadiness is most needed.

    Both perspectives hold their own truth. For employees, the absence of shared sacrifice can feel like distance. For leaders, stability can feel like duty.

    The same decision can look firm from one side and detached from another. And perhaps that’s the nature of leadership — to be seen differently, depending on where one stands.

    Layoffs as Human Events

    Layoffs also bring an emotional weight that goes beyond numbers. For those leaving, the stress is immediate — financial uncertainty, disruption of routine, and the sense of identity tied to work suddenly cut off. For those who remain, there is survivor’s guilt, anxiety about the future, and reduced trust in the stability of their own roles. Even leaders, though often viewed as distant decision-makers, carry pressure of a different kind: knowing that their choices affect lives, while also being measured against unforgiving financial targets.

    This stress reminds us that layoffs are not only structural adjustments. They are human events that touch us all in different ways.

    The impact lingers long after financial charts move on. Culture changes quietly, long before balance sheets notice.

    Employees, Organizations, and the Larger Ecosystem

    A common expectation is that working for a well-regarded company provides security. Yet even the best companies cannot guarantee permanent jobs. What they can offer are opportunities for learning, growth, and contribution. Here, responsibility does not end with the organization. Employees also carry a role: to remain skillful, to adapt as industries change, and to build their own safety nets — financial, professional, and social. This shift in perspective moves the focus from job security to career resilience.

    Organizations, for their part, exist primarily to create value and profits. Jobs are not their final purpose, but one of the ways in which they achieve outcomes. The best organizations try to balance this profit orientation with humanity — by creating learning opportunities, supporting transitions, and avoiding unnecessary harm. Still, their actions are shaped by wider dynamics: market cycles, investor expectations, and competitive pressures. Even with good intentions, no company can offer stability to every individual.

    But when we step back, we see that both employees and organizations contribute to the larger ecosystem. Employees carry their skills and values across roles and companies, strengthening society as a whole. Organizations generate opportunities and progress while pursuing profits. The system does not remove responsibility from either side. But it does set the boundaries within which all of us must act.

    Speed with Humanity

    If layoffs remain a tool companies reach for, the question becomes how to manage them in ways that do less damage to trust and culture. Certain policies can provide balance while still allowing organizations to act quickly.

    Not everyone may agree with these approaches, and my own thoughts may evolve with time. But today, when I reflect on what could bring some balance, these steps feel like a better way forward:

    • Continue health benefits for up to a year
    • Extend access to learning resources even after departure
    • Facilitate job transitions by connecting departing employees to new opportunities
    • Reduce workweeks temporarily or allow voluntary salary cuts before job losses
    • Link executive rewards directly to workforce stability

    These measures are not meant to dilute urgency. Speed, adaptability, and financial recovery remain critical to organizational survival. The intent is not to make decisions slower, but to make them fairer — to design responses that act quickly without eroding trust. When empathy outweighs efficiency, execution falters; when efficiency ignores empathy, culture weakens. The true balance lies between the two.

    Living Inside the System We Built

    Layoffs illustrate the tension between loyalty and efficiency, between individual expectations and systemic rules. Employees, leaders, investors, and governments all play their roles, yet the system often shapes behavior more than any one person’s intent.

    The question is less about blame and more about balance — how to preserve efficiency without losing humanity, and how to distribute opportunities so more people can flourish.

    Tulsidas ji wrote:
    दया धर्म का मूल है, पाप मूल अभिमान।
    तुलसी दया न छोड़िये, जब लग घट में प्राण॥

    Meaning: Compassion is the root of righteousness; pride is the root of wrongdoing.

    In today’s context, it reminds us that empathy belongs to everyone — to employees facing loss, to leaders making difficult choices, and to stakeholders carrying expectations of growth.

    Each sees the system from a different distance, yet all are bound by it. Empathy, in the end, is not sentiment but understanding — the ability to see another’s position without surrendering your own.

    And perhaps that is enough — not to remove the tension, but to live with it consciously. Because in the end, we all live inside the system we have built.

    Disclaimer:- This piece is not about any single company or moment — only about the shared systems we all live and work within.

  • Late Arrivals

    Late Arrivals

    The journey of Light

    Light has a way of humbling us. Imagine a planet sixty light-years away where something ordinary happens today — a child is born. In that moment, light carrying the imprint of that event begins its long journey outward. But the path it travels is far from smooth. It passes through dust, gas, gravity, collisions, and long stretches of emptiness. Much of it weakens, bends, or disappears. Only a small fraction keeps going.

    If that surviving bit continues without being absorbed or rerouted, it will reach Earth sixty years later. And when it finally arrives, we’ll “see” the moment of the child’s birth — long after the child has lived an entire life. The truth we observe is real, but delayed. It’s simply the past arriving late.

    Scientists often describe this journey in five stages:

    The 5 Stages of Light’s Journey

    1. Origin — Light is created by an event.
    2. Interference — Dust and particles weaken the signal.
    3. Distortion — Gravity alters or bends its path.
    4. Obstruction — Barriers absorb or block parts of it.
    5. Visibility — Whatever survives finally reaches us.

    Most of the light never completes the journey. We only see what makes it through. And while we easily accept this delay in the universe, we rarely notice how closely life follows the same pattern.

    The Road to Recognition

    Human recognition — whether of talent, discipline, or effort — moves through a similar process. A person begins something important to them: a craft, a skill, a role, a dream. That’s their origin. But recognition does not appear at the same moment as the work. It travels through people’s filters, doubts, distractions, and expectations. The journey of earning respect tends to move through five familiar stages:

    The 5 Stages of Recognition

    1. Upahās — Mockery: The first reaction to anything new is often humour or ridicule. People laugh to stay comfortable.
    2. Upekṣā — Ignoring: When the novelty settles, indifference takes over. Effort goes unseen because attention is scarce.
    3. Tiraskār — Rejection: As the work grows harder to ignore, people start pushing back. Doubt, criticism, and resistance appear.
    4. Daman — Suppression: When someone keeps going, the environment tries to control, limit, or redirect them — intentionally or unintentionally.
    5. Samman — Respect: Only after all earlier reactions exhaust themselves does recognition arrive. By then, the real work is already in the past.

    And just like with light, not every journey reaches the fifth stage. Many lose momentum during the ignoring phase. Some get worn down by rejection. Others burn out under pressure. Their signal weakens long before the world notices. Not because they lacked value, but because the journey is long and unpredictable.

    By the time recognition finally appears, the work that earned it is usually years old. The visible moment is simply the delayed arrival of effort that matured quietly, long before anyone was watching.

    Real-World Parallels

    Robert Downey Jr. is often called an “overnight comeback.” But the discipline, rebuilding, and resilience that made Iron Man possible happened long before the world was willing to see it.

    The same with Michael Phelps. His medals are visible. The years of early morning training sessions — even on birthdays and holidays — were not. By the time the world recognised him, the athlete who deserved recognition had already been built.

    In both cases, recognition didn’t match the timeline of effort. It simply arrived late — just like light.

    Where the Two Journeys Meet

    Place the journey of light next to the journey of recognition and the symmetry becomes clear. Both begin with an origin. Both weaken as they move. Both face conditions that bend, distort, or block them. Both depend on survival. And both appear long after they begin.

    We see a star long after it has changed. We admire a person long after they’ve grown. We respect someone long after their discipline is forged. We understand someone long after their experiences have shaped them.

    Visibility is always the final step, never the first. What reaches us — whether starlight or recognition — is only the part that survives the long journey.

    A Quiet Closing

    The important thing to remember is that we are almost always seeing truths from the past. Even the fastest thing we know — light — reaches us late. If that’s how the galaxy works at a fundamental level, then the time something takes is simply the distance it has to travel and the obstacles it must cross before becoming visible.

    Human journeys aren’t very different. If you feel delayed, off-track, or slower than you hoped, it may only mean that your path is longer or the environment around you is more complex. Every scatter, every deflection, every interruption can send a signal into a different direction altogether — sometimes toward an unexpected destination, sometimes toward conditions we don’t fully understand, and sometimes into worlds as unfamiliar as a black hole.

    But that doesn’t make the journey any less valid. It simply means your trajectory is shaped by the forces around you, just as light is shaped by gravity, dust, and distance.

    Light doesn’t stop because the route is uncertain. And the journey doesn’t end just because the arrival takes time.

    It makes me wonder where else this pattern may be emerging — and where it might already be at work without us realising it.

  • Five Films, Five Perspectives: Seeing the World Through Cinema

    Five Films, Five Perspectives: Seeing the World Through Cinema

    What makes a film unforgettable? Sometimes it’s the story. Sometimes it’s the way it reveals something hidden — about the world, about people, about ourselves. Some films don’t just entertain; they leave us thinking long after the screen goes dark. These are five such films that stayed with me.

    1. Rashomon (1950)

    A crime is committed. Four people tell their version of what happened. Each account is different. Who is telling the truth? Rashomon doesn’t give an easy answer. It makes you wonder — do we ever see reality as it really is, or only as we want to see it?

    Truth is rarely simple. And neither is justice, as the next film so powerfully demonstrates.

    2. 12 Angry Men (1957)

    One room. Twelve jurors. A man’s fate hanging in the balance. It starts as an open-and-shut case — until one juror begins to ask questions. Watching this film, you start noticing how people make decisions, how biases creep in, and how difficult it is to change someone’s mind. Would you have had the patience to stand alone in that room?

    If questioning assumptions can change a verdict, what about questioning an entire financial system?

    3. The Big Short (2015)

    Most people saw a booming housing market. A few saw a financial disaster waiting to happen. The Big Short takes a dry, complicated subject and turns it into a wild, unsettling ride. It makes you wonder — how many times have we missed something obvious, just because everyone else was looking the other way?

    But sometimes, the truth isn’t hidden in complex numbers — it’s right in front of us, disguised by appearances.

    4. Jaagte Raho (1956)

    A thirsty villager enters a city building at night, only to be mistaken for a thief. As he tries to escape, he stumbles upon people who seem respectable but are hiding their own secrets. It’s fascinating how this film captures the contrast between appearance and reality, between what people say they are and what they actually do. Have things really changed since then?

    And when everything is taken away — when honor, status, and even freedom are lost — what’s left?

    5. Gladiator (2000)

    A warrior stripped of everything. A corrupt emperor. A fight for something greater than revenge. Gladiator is grand and brutal, but beneath the action, it lingers on ideas of legacy, honor, and what truly matters in the end. What would you fight for, if everything else was taken away?

    And Then There’s Jaane Bhi Do Yaaro (1983)

    Some films make you think. Some films make you laugh. And then there are those rare films that do both while leaving a deep, lingering impact. Jaane Bhi Do Yaaro is one of those. The absurd humor, the biting satire on corruption, and that unforgettable Mahabharat scene — it’s a film that surprises you at every turn. You laugh, but the laughter has an edge.

    Some films don’t just tell a story — they make you think, question, and see the world a little differently. These five (or six) did that for me. These films have stayed with me long after the credits rolled. Which ones have had that same effect on you?

  • A Strange Teacher

    A Strange Teacher

    Aranya’s Dilemma

    Deep within a vibrant jungle, where life pulsed with the rhythm of nature, there lived a wolf named Aranya. Known for his diligence and unwavering commitment, Aranya took great pride in his role as both a protector and steward of the jungle. Over the years, his contributions earned him recognition, and one season, after years of dedicated service, Aranya was honored with a token of appreciation — a reward for his efforts. Humbled, Aranya tucked the reward away, intending to claim it when the time felt right.

    When Aranya finally decided to claim his reward, he was met with a sharp-eyed fox named Chandni, the jungle’s keeper of accounts. With a raised brow, Chandni informed him, “This reward has expired.”

    The words left Aranya baffled. The acknowledgment remained, but the tangible token of his efforts was lost. Disheartened, Aranya sought the advice of the jungle elders, only to find their silence echoing louder than his questions.

    Frustrated yet determined, Aranya turned to Murali, the wise and playful tortoise by the river.

    Murali’s Musings

    “Ah, Aranya,” Murali greeted him with a grin, his voice as steady as the river’s flow. “What brings you here? You look like a monkey who forgot where he hid his bananas.”

    Aranya sighed. “Murali, I was recognized for my work, given a reward, and now it’s expired before I could claim it. It feels… unfair.”

    Murali chuckled, his shell gleaming under the dappled sunlight. ‘Unfair? My dear wolf, fairness is like a cloudless monsoon — possible, but rare. You tucked that reward away, didn’t you? Forgot about it, perhaps?

    Aranya nodded sheepishly.

    “There’s your lesson!” Murali exclaimed. “Rewards are like mangoes — they have their season. But here’s the juicy part: Life isn’t about the mango you missed; it’s about planting the next tree.”

    Aranya tilted his head. “So, it’s my fault?”

    “Fault? Bah!” Murali waved a slow claw. “Think of it as life’s quirky sense of humor. Systems, like vines, have their tangles. Some give you fruit, others trip you up. The trick is learning to laugh at the fall and grow stronger.”

    Murali leaned closer, his eyes twinkling. “Let me share a secret. When life tosses you a challenge, grin back. Use the experience to become better, not bitter. Lead with transparency, handle emotions wisely, and balance rules with a touch of grace. Stay flexible, but don’t twist yourself out of shape. And remember, a wolf who laughs at life can outlast any storm.”

    Aranya’s New Path

    Aranya left the riverside with a lighter heart and a clearer mind. Murali’s playful wisdom had reframed his frustration into an opportunity. The expired reward was no longer a source of regret but a lesson in humility and adaptability.

    From that day forward, Aranya embraced life’s quirks with a blend of humor and resolve. When the jungle’s challenges came his way, he laughed, learned, and led with a renewed sense of purpose.

    As Murali wisely put it, ‘When life hands you expired rewards, just laugh it off. It’s the resilience — and the ability to laugh at the absurdity — that makes a great leader.’