On the flight from Mumbai to NY, I was doing what I like best on long-hauls: listening to songs stored offline via Amazon Prime and my Bose headset, and thinking and writing in my notebook. Mine was the only overhead light shining. For me, flights are the best thinking pods ever created. (And I really hope Air India doesn’t do Wi-Fi on their US non-stops!)
A young woman from a few rows behind walked up to me and said, “I have been observing you and you write so much. What do you write? I don’t see too many people writing, so am curious to know.” I then explained to her about my writing habits and also a bit about me. I also gave her a copy of my book.
I have had this experience more than a few times. People asking what I write and who I am. Most mistake me to be a writer of some sort. (Which in a way I am.) And that made me wonder, why don’t more people write? Our mind is always active. We are observing the world around. Ideas come up. Not all may be actionable, but just writing them keeps the mind free.
But I was happy that the woman was curious and bold to come and ask me! (And observant.)
Here is a second story from my US travels. I was carrying a few of my books from our office to my hotel room to pack for the next event we were doing in San Diego. In the hotel elevator, a middle-aged woman (probably around my age) saw me with the books (all with the same title), “What are those books? Are they yours?” And I said, “Yes. I wrote a book on entrepreneurship, and these are for a conference.” She replied, “My son wants to become an entrepreneur. He has many ideas. Any suggestions for him?” I answered, “Focus on the problem. Ask him to find a problem that people have and which he can solve uniquely. That could be his company.” She thanked me and we parted.
A couple days later, we again met in the elevator. (What’s the probability of a second chance meeting?!) This time, her son was with her. She recognised me and introduced her son. I recommended to him Uri Levine’s book, “Fall in Love with the Problem, not the Solution.” I wished him luck.
Life is sometimes about these short sweet moments with strangers which bring a smile. Our paths will probably never cross again, but in that briefest of engagements, we have shared something and created a memory. And perhaps helped each other become better. These fleeting interactions, though seemingly insignificant, often leave lasting impressions that enrich our lives in unexpected ways. They remind us of the interconnectedness of human experiences and the potential for growth in every encounter.
In a world increasingly dominated by digital interactions, these spontaneous, face-to-face exchanges become even more precious. They challenge us to remain open, curious, and engaged with the world around us. Whether it’s a conversation sparked by a simple observation or a chance meeting that leads to sharing knowledge, these moments serve as gentle reminders of our shared humanity. They encourage us to look beyond our immediate circles and recognise the potential for learning and connection in every interaction.
In sharing our thoughts and experiences with others, we not only potentially impact their lives but also reinforce our own beliefs and values. It’s a beautiful reciprocity that enriches both parties involved, creating ripples of positivity that extend far beyond the moment itself.
