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#InMyMindThisWeek
Nothing lasts forever. And that’s okay.
Most people think the job they have or the power they hold will last. It feels solid when you’re in it, like it’s yours to keep. But the truth is, everything is temporary. Roles change, companies move on, and even the highest chair eventually belongs to someone else.
What really stays behind is how you treated people when you had that power.
Being humble isn’t about playing small. It’s about knowing that your position doesn’t define your worth. It’s about remembering that you didn’t get there alone. Every success has quiet contributors and every victory is built on shared effort.
I’ve seen people rise fast, treat others like they’re invisible, and believe they’ll always be at the top. But when the spotlight moves on, so do the people. And not because they’re bitter, but because they remember.
On the other hand, the ones who walk with grace, who respect others regardless of title, who say thank you without needing a reason, who show up with empathy, those people are remembered for much longer than their time in the seat.
Because in the end, it is not just about titles or power. It is about relationships. That is what holds value long after everything else fades. The calls you still get, the doors that still open, the kindness that circles back, that is the true return on the way you showed up for others.
Power fades. Kindness does not. Relationships matter.
So do not be good to people just in case you need them later. Be good because it is who you are. Because at the end of the day, people may forget what you did, but they will always remember the space you held in their lives.
And when the chair is no longer yours, that is what truly matters.
#InMyMindThisWeek
The Voice of Conscience
There comes a time when silence starts to feel heavier than words. When watching from the sidelines feels like complicity. When you realise that staying neutral in the face of injustice isn’t balance, it’s surrender.
In moments like these, the call to speak isn’t political; it’s deeply human. It’s about conscience. About the kind of world we want to build, the values we want to stand for, and the future we want to leave behind. Whether it’s about the voiceless, be it the poor, the oppressed, or even the stray animals who share our streets or about the erosion of integrity, fairness, or compassion in public life, there comes a time when you just can’t stay quiet anymore.
It isn’t about shouting louder than others or picking sides. It’s about finding the courage to say what you believe, even if your voice trembles. Because silence, while comfortable, can be dangerous. It allows corruption to deepen its roots, inequality to harden, and cruelty to go unchecked.
Every generation faces this moment of reckoning. The choice between convenience and conviction. Between looking away and speaking up. Between cynicism and courage.
In the end, our words spoken with truth and empathy can become ripples of change. They remind the world that humanity still has a pulse, that conscience still counts.
Because sometimes, the most powerful act of rebellion is not anger, but compassion that refuses to be silent.
#InMyMindThisWeek
Our careers bring us many things… opportunities, milestones, recognition. But the greatest gift they give us is people. Colleagues who become friends, companions on the journey who add meaning to the work and joy to the everyday.
Today, my mind lingers on some of those friends who are no longer with us. They left suddenly, just like that, and yet their presence still lives on in the memories we built together.
John Furtado
Anant Rangaswamy
Rajeev Karwal
PratapBose
Kurien Mathews
Pradeep Guha
Bhaskar Das
Gautam Rakshit
Ranjan Kapur
Sohan Singh Oak
Pritish Nandy
K Sriram
Arivind Kumar
Each name carries a story, a smile, a moment that can never be replaced. Their absence is a quiet reminder that nothing is permanent, only the memories you built are.
And as I think of them, I feel a deep sense of gratitude… for the laughter we shared, the lessons we exchanged, and the bonds that time cannot erase.
In the end it isn’t the titles, the awards, or the deadlines that stay with us. It’s the people. Always the people.
#InMyMindThisWeek
Stray Dogs and the Missing Compassion in Our Laws
India has always prided itself on being a land that respects every form of life. Our Constitution, under Article 51A(g), places a duty on every citizen to protect and improve the natural environment and to have compassion for all living creatures. Compassion is not limited to human beings; it extends to every life that shares our world. Yet the recent Supreme Court judgment on stray dogs seems to have overlooked that spirit.
The debate around stray dogs is a complex one. Citizens are concerned about safety and hygiene, while others see strays as voiceless beings who depend on us for survival. Both concerns are valid. But this is not a black-and-white issue. You do not have to be a dog lover to treat animals with kindness.
A common reaction one hears is, “Why don’t you adopt them if you care so much?” Many people are happy to adopt, to pay for their upkeep, and to contribute in whatever way possible. But adoption cannot be the only solution. Not everyone has the infrastructure, space, or resources to take in a dog. That does not mean the animal should be neglected or treated with cruelty. This is where the State and civic bodies must step in, with policies grounded in compassion and responsibility.
Other countries have shown us it is possible to address the issue effectively. In the Netherlands, strong sterilisation programmes, strict anti-abandonment laws, and community partnerships have virtually eliminated the stray dog problem. In Turkey, municipalities care for street dogs through vaccination, sterilisation, feeding programmes, and community kennels, ensuring they are not left to suffer. Even within India, states like Sikkim and Goa have achieved visible success through systematic sterilisation drives and community awareness campaigns.
Stray dogs are not the problem. The absence of planning and infrastructure is. With consistent sterilisation programmes, properly funded shelters, and strong laws against abandonment, the streets would not be home to so many animals. Instead, the burden is shifted to citizens, who are told to either tolerate them or adopt them. That is unfair both to people and to the dogs.
The measure of a society is how it treats its most vulnerable. Stray dogs did not choose this life; they were born into it. To turn our backs on them is to deny the very compassion that our Constitution asks of us. Humane and effective solutions exist, and examples are all around us. What is missing is the will to implement them.
Until then, it is worth remembering that kindness is not optional.
#dog #dogs #Straydog #Animal #SupremeCourt #StrayDogs #KindnessMatters #india
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Forget Legacy. Just Live Well 👇🏼https://t.co/89Iac8sojX
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The Beautiful Weight of Letting Go
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The Courage to Stand, the Wisdom to Reflect
https://t.co/6qxDbtdOcR
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The Subtle Art of Knowing: When Are You Giving Up and When Are You Letting Go
https://t.co/B4HY45r4cy
#InMyMindThisWeek
The Joy of a 30 Paise Ride
I still remember the first time I tried to ride a bicycle. I had borrowed a friend’s cycle, actually my brother’s friend’s cycle, and because I was too small to sit on the seat and pedal the usual way, I had to improvise. One hand on the crossbar, one on the handle, and a leg swinging through under the bar. That awkward, determined stance was my initiation into freedom on two wheels.
Later, I switched to my sister’s cycle. It was a “ladies” model which meant no crossbar, just easier access and less acrobatics. But it didn’t matter what it looked like. The joy was the same. The feeling of wind on your face, the thrill of balance, the strange satisfaction of learning something all by yourself.
Back then, entertainment didn’t come from screens. We used to hire bicycles from the local cycle shop for 30 paise an hour and just ride aimlessly around the neighborhood. Sometimes alone, sometimes with friends, often in little groups headed for a picnic, which meant carrying a bottle of water and maybe some biscuits in someone’s school tiffin box.
Life was simpler. Slower. And yes, different.
Today, when I look around cities, especially metro cities, it’s a whole new cycling culture. Bicycles aren’t just about transport anymore. They’ve become health equipment, a status symbol, a lifestyle statement. I see sleek, expensive bikes parked outside cafes, riders in Lycra sipping cold brew after a 40-kilometer morning loop. There are cycling clubs, apps to track your rides, and even races where the jerseys look more like Formula 1 gear.
Globally too, cities like London, New York and Tokyo have seen a similar shift. Cycling is about wellness, sustainability and identity. People are pedaling not because they have to but because they choose to, often as a conscious stand against pollution, stress and a life that’s constantly in fifth gear.
And I get it. Cycling, even today, has the power to connect you with yourself. It slows you down. It brings back that old sense of wonder even if it’s wrapped in carbon fiber now.
Maybe in smaller towns, children still hire bikes for a few rupees and ride without destination. Maybe they still race for fun and not fitness goals. I hope they do.
Because no matter how fancy or fast the bicycle becomes, for me, it will always be a memory of scraped knees, stolen hours, and the kind of happiness that costs just 30 paise.
#InMyMindThisWeek
Why Don’t We Talk About Death?
Just over a month ago, I lost my sister.
She knew her time was near. When I visited her just days before her passing, she spoke about death not with fear, but with calm and clarity. She knew I was travelling to the U.S. for my daughter’s delivery and told me, very firmly, that if something were to happen while I was away, I shouldn’t fly back. No rituals. No fuss. But deep down, I think she knew I would.
In her own quiet way, she made space for something meaningful. She chose to leave exactly 24 hours before my flight, just enough time for me to return, say my goodbyes, and find some closure. That was her final act of love and thoughtfulness.
On my way back from the U.S., I watched The Bucket List. It brought back memories of that conversation.
And it got me thinking:
Why don’t we speak more openly about death?
Maybe it’s fear. Maybe discomfort. Maybe we just don’t know how. But by avoiding it, we miss something very human.
Because when we do talk about death openly and honestly, we will end up talking about life.
What matters. Who matters.
What we want to do with our time here.What we hope to leave behind.
We are all mortal, yet we live as if it won’t happen to us.
Life is unpredictable. Sudden. Unscripted.And that’s why we need to learn to live in the now.
I have now made my own bucket list.Not a dramatic one , just a conscious effort to reconnect with people I care about, and to finally do some of the things I’ve kept postponing for “later.” Because if not now, then when?
I dont intend to stop working. I believe work keeps us young and engaged, but I do want to start saying yes to more of the things that make life richer, fuller, and more meaningful.
And I would urge you to do the same. You don’t have to be in your 60s like me. You could be in your 20s.But do start making your bucket list.
Be happy. Make others happy. 😊
#InMyMindThisWeek
Many people die rich. Few truly live rich.
A life well lived isn’t measured by what we leave behind in banks, but by what we leave behind in people.
Enough to make your children feel secure. Enough freedom for them to find their own way.
And if there’s more, use it to feed someone, educate someone, bring a little more happiness into someone’s life.
In the end, only what we give and the joy we create truly remains.
Have a beautiful weekend.❤️
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