Category: Life Notes

Sometimes, the best investment isn’t in things, but in tranquility. This lesson became clear during a critical travel arrangement for my son Abhishek.

The scenario was complex: Abhishek needed to return to Columbia University for an end-semester exam, but he also had to attend an important family function in Palitana, India. The timing was tight. The function would end at 1 pm, followed by a 5-6 hour drive to Ahmedabad. (SpiceJet operated only a morning flight from Bhavnagar to Mumbai.) From Ahmedabad, he needed to catch a flight to Mumbai to connect with his 1:45 am flight to JFK.

Looking at the domestic flight options from Ahmedabad to Mumbai, I faced a decision. There were two flights at 8:30 pm, both landing in Mumbai at 10 PM. Either would give him enough time to catch his JFK connection – if they ran on time. That “if” kept nagging at me.

Having experienced the unpredictability of Indian domestic flights, especially delays due to congestion at major airports, I made an unconventional choice: I booked us on both flights. Yes, it meant an extra expense of Rs 10,000. But what it bought was far more valuable than money – it bought certainty. Or at least, as much certainty as one could have in air travel.

As it turned out, both domestic flights operated on schedule. But here’s what I realised: the extra money spent had purchased something intangible yet invaluable – mental peace. Instead of spending those crucial hours anxiously checking flight status updates or frantically planning contingencies, we could focus on the family function. The only remaining uncertainty was the Mumbai-JFK flight, but international flights typically don’t see major delays.

This experience reinforced an important life principle: while financial prudence is important, sometimes the smartest investment isn’t the one that saves money, but the one that saves sanity. We often get caught up in optimising every expense, forgetting that peace of mind has its own worth. Whether in business or personal life, there are moments when spending that extra amount isn’t extravagance – it’s insurance for your mental wellbeing. [I have discussed this previously in two posts on my Delta Dollar Decision Rule: see this and this.]

The real value of money isn’t just in what it can buy, but in the anxiety it can prevent. Sometimes, the most worthwhile purchase is simply a calm mind.

Two stories a day apart taught me an important lesson about picking my battles.

Story 1: At Mumbai Airport’s boarding gate, Abhishek and I discovered our carry-on bags were overweight for our SpiceJet flight to Bhavnagar. The limit was 7 kgs; we had considerably more. The agent demanded Rs 6,800 for excess baggage. I tried arguing, but was told that the rules were clearly stated on our tickets. With no time to return to check-in and Spicejet being the only carrier on this route, we had two choices: pay or miss our flight. We paid.

Story 2: Just a day earlier, I was picking up Abhishek at the international terminal at Mumbai airport. Since I was running late and he was travelling light, I asked him to meet me at the Departures level to avoid parking. As he got in the car, an airport agent appeared: “Rs 270 fine. No pickups allowed here.” He pointed to some distant signboard with the rules. Again, I tried to argue. Again, I had to pay.

Both incidents left a bitter taste. Yes, the airline and airport were technically within their rights. Yes, they held monopolistic positions, with Spicejet being the only airline on the Mumbai-Bhavnagar route. But something felt fundamentally unfair about these interactions.

Then it hit me: I was expending emotional energy on battles I could never win. In the Spicejet case, I could have escalated to a supervisor but risked missing our flight. At the airport, I could have argued longer but would still have ended up paying. The staff weren’t there to create delightful customer experiences – they were simply enforcing rules, doing their jobs.

This realisation was reinforced days later at another airport’s boarding gate. I watched passengers berate Air India staff over a 20-minute delay, despite advance notification. Their angry outbursts changed nothing except their own blood pressure.

A few years ago, I might have been one of those angry passengers. But over time, I’ve learned to be more stoic. Life presents many situations where we lack control and have zero chance of winning an argument. In such moments, the real victory lies not in fighting a losing battle, but in choosing peace of mind instead.

The core lesson? Save your energy for fights you can win. When faced with an immovable force – whether it’s airline rules, bureaucratic procedures, or simply circumstances beyond your control – acceptance isn’t defeat. It’s wisdom.

I came to tea late in life. Most of my life was (and still is) about drinking a glass of milk every morning. No tea, no coffee. “Bad things,” as my mother always told me while I was growing up. Even in the US, as I saw everyone get their coffee in every meeting, I stayed away. I didn’t need coffee for its taste or its “staying awake” capabilities!

I tried tea a couple of years ago when travelling. It was a good filler when a hot Jain meal was hard to come by; the Girnar Tea premix sachets which needed just hot water were a good quick fix. In office, I will have a tea (no sugar!) in the afternoon. I’m not very fussy about the taste; as long as it has the right mix of Indian masalas, I am fine with it!

So, I got curious about tea – given that Indians are a nation of tea-drinkers. The story of tea in India is fascinating, as explained by Claude.

While tea plants were native to India, especially in Assam, it was the British who transformed India into a tea-drinking nation. Before the British, India was primarily an herbal decoction-drinking culture. The British East India Company began large-scale tea cultivation in Assam in the 1830s to break China’s monopoly on tea. Over time, what began as an export crop became deeply embedded in Indian culture.

The classic Indian masala chai – a spiced milk tea – is a relatively recent invention, becoming popular only in the 20th century. Today, it’s more than just a beverage; it’s a cultural phenomenon. From roadside tea stalls to corporate boardrooms, chai is the great equaliser, bringing people together for conversations and connections.

Tea’s popularity isn’t just about taste or tradition. The combination of caffeine and L-theanine in tea provides a unique kind of alertness – gentler and more sustained than coffee’s jolt. The various antioxidants and compounds in tea are believed to offer health benefits, from improved heart health to better digestion.

What surprises me most about my tea journey is how something I avoided for decades has become a comforting part of my daily routine. While I’m still not a connoisseur who can distinguish between Darjeeling and Assam teas, I’ve come to appreciate this simple pleasure that billions around the world enjoy.

I have been reading two short story collections: Christmas Crimes at the Mysterious Bookshop and The Best American Mystery and Suspense 2024. Combine a short story with some mystery, and I can’t resist! There’s something magical about how a skilled writer can weave an entire world, complete with complex characters and surprising twists, in just a few pages.

While a book is a commitment of a few hours, a short story can be read in about 20-odd minutes – perfect for those stolen moments in a day or just before bed. I am always trying to guess the twist at the end – and rarely succeed. (Guess that’s what makes the story leave its mark.) There are times when I just don’t get the ending, and then I have to Google and figure out what the author intended. But that’s part of the joy – the interpretation, the discussion, the discovery of layers of meaning I might have missed.

When Abhishek was younger, we used to listen to audio versions of short stories, especially the O’Henry ones. “The Gift of the Magi” was so hauntingly beautiful – its message of sacrifice and love resonating deeply with both of us. At some level, the stories are a moment in time as the lives of people intersect. Their emotions are perhaps what we would feel, their actions what we would do. These shared storytelling moments created a special bond, a shared vocabulary of tales and morals that we still reference today.

In school, short stories felt like hard work – trying to not only understand the story but also write the answers in the exams that matched the teacher’s interpretations! The beauty of these tales was often lost in the academic dissection required for good grades. But somewhere along the way, I fell in love with stories despite the formal analysis. When I launched IndiaWorld, I had an Indian short stories section, believing in their power to connect and engage with Indians globally. I still remember the Katha Prize Stories – how they captured the essence of Indian life in ways that international collections rarely could. I look forward to Indian short stories because they tend to be more relatable, grounded in experiences and contexts I understand intimately.

I have often wondered what makes a good short story. Is it the relatable characters who feel like people we might know? The surprising yet inevitable ending that leaves us thinking? Or is it what the story leaves behind – that lingering feeling, those questions that stay with us long after we’ve finished reading? I guess it’s a mix of all of the above. The best short stories are like perfectly cut gems – every facet carefully crafted to catch the light just so, creating something beautiful and memorable in its brevity.

Mystery stories hold a special place in this format. Unlike novels that can take their time laying out clues and red herrings, short mystery stories must be economical yet fair to the reader. Every word counts, every detail matters. Perhaps that’s why they’re so satisfying when done well – they’re puzzles that challenge both our intellect and our emotional understanding of human nature.

Now, I must get back to reading the next story! And maybe, someday, I can write a few of my own!

I had written a year or so ago about some of my favourite South Mumbai restaurants: Swati, Status, Cream Centre, Spice Klub, and All-in-1 Pure Jain I had also mentioned several other restaurants that Bhavana, Abhishek and I frequently visited: Dakshinayan at Walkeshwar for its South Indian food, Quattro (next to Spice Klub) for its veg Italian and Mexican options, Soam and Govinda at Babulnath, Samrat at Churchgate, New Yorker (next to Cream Centre), and Gustoso with its excellent pizzas within walking distance from home.

The wonderful thing about Mumbai’s restaurant scene is its constant evolution, with new establishments regularly enriching our dining choices. With Abhishek in the US, it’s primarily Bhavana and me who dine out 2-3 times a month. Our preference is for vegetarian restaurants with Jain options. Here are some noteworthy new discoveries:

• Navam Dining at Sikka Nagar: This has become our new favourite, with its extensive Jain menu options
• Achija at Lower Parel: Conveniently close to office, offering impressive variety
• Vanakkam Vihar at Opera House: Excellent South Indian specialties
• Millo at Kamala Mills: Perfect for leisurely lunches or dinners, offering unique dishes not found elsewhere
• Bhagat Tarachand at Lower Parel: The beloved Kalbadevi institution, now conveniently located next to my office

When it comes to food, I am not much of an experimenter – primarily because I don’t like  many things. In south Indian, I like a well-made Pongal. In north Indian, mutter paneer, Malai kofta, or chole are my favourites. Outside of Indian, I like Italian (pizza, pasta), or Mexican (enchilada, quesadilla). In a restaurant, I tend to re-order what I ate and liked the previous time!

The one thing I’ve realized is how wonderfully diverse Indian cuisine can be. Millo’s menu is a good example of the possibilities. During my last visit, I tried their  Chilaquiles Filo Cups – a perfect example of creative fusion done right.

It’s fascinating to see how vegetarian dining in Mumbai has evolved over the years. From traditional thali places to modern fusion restaurants, the options have expanded dramatically. Today’s vegetarian restaurants are no longer just about basic paneer dishes or standard South Indian fare. They’re experimenting with global cuisines, innovative presentations, and creative interpretations of traditional dishes. Even the ambiance has transformed – from functional eateries to sophisticated dining spaces that can compete with any high-end restaurant. This evolution is perhaps a reflection of Mumbai’s changing food culture and the growing sophistication of diners.

After a presentation on Netcore’s new ideas to a customer, as I was walking out, the CMO came alongside me and said, “Rajesh, here is the one thing which if you can do for us, it will really transform the relationship and deliver immense value to us.” In the meeting, we had discussed many solutions, but what the CMO was telling me was something different: here is the one big thing that you should find an answer for me. (In his case, it was reaching and activating the 80% of customers who were dormant.) As I walked back to my office, I realised what he was telling me was the crux.

I have written previously about what Richard Rumelt has called as the “crux.” The crux, according to Rumelt, is the most important challenge or obstacle that, if addressed, would unlock significant progress in a situation. It’s not just any challenge, but the pivotal one that matters most. Think of it like a rock climber analysing a difficult route – there’s usually one particular move (the crux move) that’s the key to completing the entire climb. Rumelt argues that effective strategy isn’t about addressing every problem, but about identifying and focusing on this critical challenge. The crux has three key characteristics:

1. It’s the core challenge that’s holding everything else back
2. It’s feasible to address (difficult but not impossible)
3. Solving it would create meaningful forward momentum

He emphasises that finding your crux requires both analytical thinking and honest judgment –  you need to look past surface-level issues to identify what truly matters and what you can actually influence.

While Rumelt focused on identifying the critical challenge that businesses must overcome to succeed, the same principle can be transformative in our personal lives and in sales.

In personal terms, the crux is about finding that one pivotal challenge that, if addressed, could dramatically improve our lives. It’s not about tackling everything at once, but identifying the key obstacle that’s holding us back. For instance, it might be developing a specific skill, breaking a particular habit, or building a crucial relationship. The key is that it should be both important and actionable.

In sales, applying the crux concept means identifying what truly matters to your potential customer – not their surface-level requirements, but the core challenge that, if solved, would create significant value for them. It’s about finding that critical pain point or opportunity that, when addressed, would make everything else fall into place.

The power of the crux lies in its focus: instead of spreading our energy across multiple initiatives, we concentrate on the one thing that could create the most meaningful change. It’s the difference between trying to fix everything at once and identifying the keystone that holds everything else together.

This is what I tell my colleagues at Netcore: identify and solve the crux for each customer. When you discover that one critical challenge that keeps your customer awake at night and provide a solution, you create more than just a sale – you build an unshakeable relationship. You become not just another vendor but a strategic partner who truly understands their business. That’s how you create a moat around your customer relationships – by being the one who found and solved their crux. Everything else is just a feature or a function; the crux is where true value lives.

My blue Crocs (LiteRide) have become the footwear of choice, marking a surprising evolution in my relationship with shoes.

I have been wearing Crocs for about 8-10 years. It began innocently enough as a replacement for house slippers – just something casual to slip on while going out. But over the years, and especially after the pandemic, I find myself wearing them everywhere – even to the office (when I don’t have formal meetings).

I absolutely love them. The comfort is nothing short of amazing – like walking on supportive clouds. At times, for a better fit and especially when I do some serious walking, I’ll wear socks for a tighter grip. Yes, I’ve become one of those people who commit the alleged fashion faux pas of wearing socks with Crocs, and I’m completely at peace with it!

What fascinates me is how Crocs have made this journey from being widely mocked as ugly, chunky plastic shoes to becoming a legitimate fashion statement. My first reaction was “Really?” when my son Abhishek, an early convert, suggested I try them. When I first put them on and walked around, I found the experience liberating – they felt light on the feet and did not cramp my toes. I haven’t stopped wearing them since. Between my Crocs and my Asics sports shoes, I have effectively retired my formal black leather shoes (Bata’s Hush Puppies).

The success of Crocs isn’t surprising when you consider their features: they’re made from Croslite, a proprietary closed-cell resin that makes them incredibly comfortable and lightweight. They’re breathable thanks to ventilation ports, water-resistant, versatile enough for both indoor and outdoor use, and remarkably easy to clean. Plus, you can just slip them on and go!

The Crocs story itself is fascinating. Born in 2002 in Boulder, Colorado, three friends developed these foam clogs using Croslite material, initially as a boating shoe. Their first model, the “Beach,” sold out its 200 pairs instantly at a Florida boat show. Despite facing mockery and near-bankruptcy in 2009, Crocs made an incredible comeback, particularly during the pandemic’s comfort-wear boom. Today, it’s a $4 billion revenue company.

Sometimes the best things in life come in unconventional packages. For me, it’s these rubber clogs that have redefined my daily comfort and challenged my preconceptions about acceptable footwear. Who knew that what started as a simple slipper replacement would become such a staple in my wardrobe?

After seeing Hacks sweep several awards, including Best Comedy Series, at the recent Emmys, I decided to give it a watch – and was pleasantly surprised.

I asked ChatGPT to provide an overview of Hacks.

Hacks is a critically acclaimed dark comedy web series that revolves around the professional and personal relationship between two women from different generations in the world of stand-up comedy.

The story centers on Deborah Vance (played by Jean Smart), a legendary, sharp-witted comedian in Las Vegas whose career is beginning to decline. She’s a trailblazer in her field but is struggling to stay relevant in the modern entertainment landscape. To revitalize her act, Deborah reluctantly agrees to work with Ava Daniels (played by Hannah Einbinder), a young, down-on-her-luck comedy writer who is struggling after being “canceled” due to a controversial joke.

Initially, the two women clash due to their generational and cultural differences—Deborah is old-school, unapologetic, and set in her ways, while Ava is more progressive, idealistic, and blunt. However, as they work together, they start to learn from each other and form a complicated but meaningful partnership. The show explores themes of ambition, ego, the cost of success, and how two very different people can find common ground and grow both personally and professionally.

Hacks balances sharp humor with emotional depth, delving into the challenges faced by women in comedy and the entertainment industry. The series is lauded for its witty dialogue, strong performances, especially by Jean Smart, and the nuanced portrayal of its characters.

As I watched Hacks and the character of Deborah Vance, I realised how essential it is to keep our passion alive as we grow older, and how crucial it is to continually reinvent ourselves. Deborah’s journey reminded me that staying relevant requires not just experience, but an openness to evolve with the times (and learn from the young!) When I present email innovations in meetings, people are often surprised to see me personally doing the demos. I always tell them: this is what excites me – showing new ideas and exploring how tomorrow’s world can be different.

Learning never stops, and to remain at the forefront, especially in a constantly shifting world, we must embrace that change and adapt alongside it. Deborah’s struggle and eventual adaptation in Hacks mirror the challenges many of us face in our careers. It’s not just about staying current; it’s about finding new ways to apply our wisdom and experience to emerging contexts. This process of reinvention isn’t always comfortable, but it’s necessary for growth and continued relevance. Whether in comedy, technology, or any other field, the willingness to step out of our comfort zones and engage with new ideas is what keeps us vibrant and valuable in our professions. Deborah’s journey in Hacks serves as a powerful reminder that age is no barrier to innovation (I am 57) – in fact, it can be our greatest asset when combined with a willingness to learn and adapt.

I’ve always been a fan of making lists. As I wrote: “I live life through lists. To-Do lists. Key priorities. Ideas. Books to read. What to blog about. Discussion points pre- and post-meetings. And so on. I find lists very helpful. Writing things down in my notebook keeps the mind clear… Lists have helped me keep my mind clear and unencumbered, have more productive days knowing there are some key tasks that just have to be done before I sleep, go into meetings and conversations prepared with a clear plan, and ensure that when others expect me to do something I do not disappoint them with an “Oh, I forgot.””

Lists, of course, are more than just a way to jot down items; they’re a powerful tool for organising thoughts and information. Here’s why lists are so useful:

1. Clarity: Lists help break down complex ideas into manageable parts, making information easier to understand and process.
2. Structure: They provide a clear structure to our thoughts, helping us see relationships between different elements.
3. Memory Aid: The act of creating a list helps reinforce information in our memory, making it easier to recall later.

While lists can have any number of items, I’ve found (like many others) that three is often the ideal number. Here’s why:

1. Cognitive Sweet Spot: Our brains seem to have a natural affinity for patterns of three. Think of “ready, set, go” or “beginning, middle, end.”
2. Memorability: We tend to remember three items more easily than five or seven. It’s the smallest number that can form a pattern in our minds.
3. Balance: Three provides a sense of completeness without overwhelming. It offers a beginning, middle, and end, creating a satisfying structure.

The real power of the “Tree of Three” concept comes from nesting these lists of three, creating a fractal-like structure. Here’s how it works:

1. Start with a Top-Level List: Begin with three main points or categories.
2. Expand Each Point: For each of these points, create another list of three sub-points.
3. Continue as Needed: Keep expanding points with sub-lists of three as necessary.

This approach allows us to organise large amounts of information in a structure that remains manageable and memorable. Like Lego blocks, each list of three can connect to others, building a complex yet coherent structure.

I asked Claude to apply the “Tree of Three” concept to an example: planning a vacation.

1. Destination Planning
   • Choose Location
     • Research climate
     • Consider budget
     • Check travel advisories
   • Transportation
     • Compare flight options
     • Arrange local transit
     • Consider car rental
   • Accommodation
     • Read hotel reviews
     • Check amenities
     • Compare prices

2. Itinerary Creation
   • Sightseeing
     • List must-see attractions
     • Book guided tours
     • Plan free exploration time
   • Dining
     • Research local cuisine
     • Make reservations
     • Allow for spontaneous choices
   • Activities
     • Schedule adventure sports
     • Plan relaxation time
     • Arrange cultural experiences

3. Practical Preparations
   • Documentation
     • Check passport validity
     • Obtain necessary visas
     • Arrange travel insurance
   • Packing
     • Create clothing checklist
     • Prepare toiletries
     • Organise travel documents
   • Home Arrangements
     • Arrange pet care
     • Set up home security
     • Inform trusted neighbours

This simplified “Tree of Three” structure for vacation planning demonstrates how complex tasks can be broken down into manageable, memorable chunks. Each main category has three subcategories, which in turn have three specific action items. This nested structure allows for a comprehensive plan without becoming overwhelming.

So, next time you’re faced with a complex problem or a large amount of information to organise, try applying the “Tree of Three” method. You might find that it not only helps you remember the details but also gives you a clearer understanding of how everything fits together.

From late August to the end of September, I found myself in constant motion, traversing continents and time zones. My journey took me from the bustling streets of New York to the sun-soaked shores of San Diego, with a brief stopover in the San Francisco Bay Area. Then, after a week at home, I was back on the move – to Aerocity, New Delhi, for MPS. While I’ve always embraced the thrill of travel, I must admit that after this whirlwind month, the comfort of home was a welcome respite.

Throughout my life, travel has been more than just a pastime; it’s been an integral part of my personal and professional growth. The anticipation of an international trip still excites me, even after all these years. There’s something magical about those long flights that seem to suspend time, offering a rare opportunity for uninterrupted reflection. The immersion in new environments, with their unique sights, sounds, and energy, never fails to stimulate my mind and spark fresh ideas.

Escaping the confines of my office cabin and the predictable rhythm of the home-office-home routine feels liberating. It’s in these moments of geographical and mental displacement that I find myself pondering more deeply about business strategies and life philosophies. The change of scenery acts as a catalyst, helping me approach challenges from new angles and envision possibilities that might have remained hidden in the familiar surroundings of home. Invariably, I return from these trips feeling reinvigorated and brimming with excitement about implementing new concepts.

However, travel is not without its concerns, particularly when it comes to health. During this recent month-long expedition, I battled an irritatingly persistent dry cough that overstayed its welcome. Moreover, for the second time in recent years, I suffered a minor injury during a US trip – this time, a stubbed toe. These incidents serve as reminders of the importance of self-care, even amidst the exhilaration of travel.

While the adventures of travel are numerous, there are aspects of home life that I sorely miss when I’m away. As someone who follows a Jain diet, finding suitable hot meals can be challenging, especially outside of hubs like New York. While I’m not a very fussy eater, I do prefer one hot meal a day, but adhering to this principle can be particularly tricky when navigating international cuisines and limited options, especially at business dinners.

Perhaps what I miss most are my weekend morning writing sessions. Saturday and Sunday mornings have long been sacred times for crafting essays for my blog. Despite my best efforts, I’ve yet to recreate the perfect writing environment I have at home – the comfort of my familiar chair, the efficiency of my table and desktop setup, and the serene quiet of early mornings. (I do my writing from 5-8 am.) These elements combine to create a flow state that’s hard to replicate in hotel rooms or flights, with my laptop.

In the end, it’s always good to be back home – not just for the physical space, but for the sanctuary of routines that ground and nurture me (and, of course, the food).