Slow Down…

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What if we slow down? What’s the worst that could happen?

In today’s world, we’re in a constant rush — to be faster, more productive, more efficient. To go farther. To have more of everything.

But why?

Because at the end of it all, we might have more…
More success, more stuff, more status — but not more time.
Yes, maybe more money — but still not enough time.

What if we weren’t chasing productivity all the time? What if we weren’t the fastest, the most efficient, the farthest-travelled?

Maybe we’d be seen as falling behind.
Maybe the world would label us as “not enough.”
Maybe we’d be out of the race altogether.

But maybe…
We’d have something even more precious — time to breathe, to reflect, to just be.

Would that really be so bad?

What would you miss more in the end —
A perfectly optimized version of yourself?
Or you, the real you, who got lost in the sprint?

Look back.
Has all the running really gotten you where you wanted to be?
Or has it just led to more running?

And those rare moments when you did slow down — didn’t they bring a bit of peace, some clarity, a sense of self?

Truthfully, I don’t have all the answers.
I’ve rarely slowed down myself.
But maybe now is the time.

To pause.
To breathe.
To see where slow might take us.

Because if not… what really is this life, if all we do is run?

The Thinking Shoe

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Arjun was stuck in traffic. Again. The kind where you move just enough to keep false hope alive. He sighed, tapping his foot against the car mat. But down below, his shoe had other thoughts.

“I’m stagnant,” it mused. “But so is everyone else.”

Shoes see things differently. They don’t have eyes, but they feel the world. They sense movement, stillness, patterns. And right now, all the shoes around it—hundreds of them—were stuck too. Different feet, different people, but all sharing the same standstill.

This wasn’t new. The shoe had been part of patterns before.

At the movies? Shoes neatly lined up, not moving for hours.
In a food court? Clusters of restless shoes, tapping, shifting, waiting for decisions to be made.
At a concert? Shoes barely on the ground, lifted by the music.

It started seeing it everywhere. Every place had its own rhythm, its own movement signature.

And then it wondered—if I can recognize these patterns, maybe I can predict them.

If shoes could talk, they’d probably have a lot to say.

  • “Don’t take this route, traffic’s a mess. Try the metro—more standing shoes, but at least they move.”
  • “This café has shoes that tap in rhythm—good vibes, stay a little longer.”
  • “The shoes next to you haven’t moved in a while. Maybe their owner is sad.”

But shoes don’t talk. They just listen, absorb, and remember.

They remember first steps—that careful, testing walk in the store before being bought.
They remember fast sprints—running late for a flight, barely making it.
They remember long pauses—sitting by at night, lost in thought.

They don’t know why people move, only that they do. But they feel every journey, every hesitation, every unspoken emotion.

The shoe had been around long enough to notice something else: people moved less now.

More time at desks. More sitting. More standing in elevators that did all the work. Less running for no reason. Less walking just to think.

Would there come a time when shoes never felt dirt roads? When they forgot what it was like to run through a park, to step on warm pavement, to carry someone towards something unknown?

Maybe that’s why people still found excuses to walk by the sea, dance at weddings, or jog at sunrise—even when they didn’t have to.

Because movement isn’t just about getting somewhere.

It’s about feeling alive.

The light turned green.

The shoe felt weight shift, movement returning. Finally.

It didn’t know where they were going, but it didn’t matter.

Because for shoes, moving is everything.

Dark side…

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The great irony of existence is that what makes life worth living does not come from the rosy side. We would all rather be merry makers, but life will not allow it. The enery to live comes from the dark side. It comes from everything that makes us suffer. As we struggle against these negative powers, we are forced to live more deeply, more fully.

So acknowledging this dark side makes you more convincing?

Offcourse, yes, because you are more truthful. One of the life principles is the understanding that we all live in dread. Fear is when you dont know whats going to happen. Dread is when you know whats going to happen and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. Death is a great dread; we all live in an ever shrinking shadow of time against it, and between now and then all kind of things could happen.

Most of us repress this dread. We get rid of it by inflicting it on other people through sarcasm, cheating, abuse, indifference – cruelties great and small. We all commit these little evils that relieve the pressure and make us feel better.

Haircut…

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In my time, when we used to go for a haircut, it was simple, no questions, no complexities, easier and faster.

In sainik (military) school days, you would wear a beret, and any hair outside the beret was gone. Within the beret, everything was completely trimmed. Five minutes, and you were done. The barber was happy, and you were happier.

Outside school, still easy. You’d go into a barber shop, wait in a queue, and when your turn came, you’d sit on a chair—not too comfortable, but good enough to sit for 10-15 minutes.

You’d tell the barber “short” or “medium” (just a word or two). No eye contact, no smiles, no courtesies—just a couple of words. And as soon as those words came out, the barber would start. For the next 10-15 minutes, you could close your eyes, listen to the songs, and when you opened them, your haircut would be done.

Today, it’s scary. You book an appointment, sit on a very comfortable double sofa, and yet, you’re not comfortable. The scariest part is still to come—the barber.

The barber comes in smiling, and you have to smile back, make eye contact, and then the interview process begins. First, you need to explain what you want: haircut, shaving, or some other trimming service I don’t even know about.

As soon as you say “haircut,” the barber divides your hair into three sections—sides, middle, and edges. Then comes the barrage of questions:

  • “What number do you want for the sides?”
  • “How much should I take off the middle?”
  • “To what length should I trim the edges?”

I try to bypass this by saying, “Make it short and don’t ask questions.” But the barber gets confused and uncomfortable. He slows down, stalls the haircut, and then asks again, “If I make it short in the middle, it might look bad.”

Now you start feeling bad for the barber and say, “Don’t worry, just cut it.” But he still worries.

Meanwhile, 20 minutes have passed. I’m thinking, “Why did I come for a haircut? I should have come another day.” But it’s always the same story.

After 30 minutes of struggle, when he finally says, “It’s done,” I check my hair by running my hand through the middle of my head, and it still feels long. I’m pissed off—not just because it’s longer than I wanted, but also because the longer it is, the sooner I’ll have to come back to this hell.

Even shaving comes with a bunch of questions: trimming the mustache, trimming the sides, and so on.

Haircuts today reflect so many life choices—too many options & questions but no satisfaction. Sometimes, it’s better to have no choice at all. Just one path, and you live with it. At least then, you’d have peace.

Lady Crossing the Road…

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The lady was wearing a pink sweater, likely costing around ₹3,000. Her shoes appeared to be worth at least ₹10,000, and she carried an office bag of a similar price range—everything about her screamed being rich.

But the road she was crossing was the same old, pathetic, pothole-ridden stretch. The relentless traffic and indifferent vehicles made it no easier for her to cross. The environment around her was cold and foggy, with no sunlight breaking through.

I couldn’t help but think how the richness of her appearance seemed utterly subdued by her surroundings. She looked so poor to me—desperately poor—despite all the expensive things she carried.

And aren’t we all the same? We have the finest clothes, the most luxurious homes, sleek cars, grand malls, and everything that screams “best” in our material world.

But we lack the environment to truly enjoy any of it. We don’t have the peace, the space, or the balance to savor what we’ve built for ourselves.

Yes, I know this is nothing new. This endless race for more—more possessions, more achievements, more of everything we think we need—has been going on for ages.

But lately, it feels as though even nature has given up on us. It seems to whisper, “Do whatever you want—I don’t care anymore.”

I hope we, as a human race, wake up soon. While we grow richer in materialistic terms, we are becoming desperately poorer in our connection with nature and the environment we depend on.

We may surround ourselves with the finest luxuries as individuals, but the collective reality we’re creating is one where nature is slipping away.

And that delicate balance? It won’t last forever.

How to become a authentic speaker…

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Do these 4 things:

The intent to be open with your audience.
– How can you be more open? Try to imagine giving your presentation to someone with whom you are completely relaxed. This is the state you need to be in if you are to have an authentic rapport with your audience.

The intent to connect with your audience.
– Think about wanting – needing to engage your listeners. Imagine that a young child you know well isnt heeding you. You want to capture the child’s attention however you can.

The intent to be passionate about your topic.
– Focus not on what you want to say but on why you are giving the speech and how you feel about that.

The intent to “listen” to your audience.
– What they are feeling or expecting before you begin as a speaker?

Younger Me, What I Wish I Could Tell You…

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These two things are the most important in life:

  1. Make Fear of Failure and Failure Your Friends
    Change your mindset towards failure. Make fear of failure your ally and embrace failure itself.
    I’ve missed many opportunities because I was afraid of failing—thinking, Oh, I shouldn’t try this because I might fail. Let me not do that because it could end in failure.
    But those decisions led to my worst regrets. As time passes, you’ll realize you missed opportunities that could have changed your life, and the biggest regret will be not trying at all.So, adopt a growth mindset. See failure not as an end but as a stepping stone to success. Embrace it.
  2. Learning
    Whether it’s through reading, lectures, courses, or any other way that works for you—keep learning. Never stop. Don’t fall into the trap of thinking, This is it. It’s never it.Learning is the foundation of everything. If you stop learning, you won’t be able to recover from setbacks or improve yourself.So, keep learning. Always.

These are the two things I’d suggest to the younger generation. The rest will follow.

Bitching is a bitch…

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We all do it. Whether it’s about our boss, a peer, or someone we’re jealous of because they seem to be doing better—it’s a part of life.

Does it help? Yeah, for a bit. It lets you blow off steam, release some of those emotional traps, and maybe feel lighter. But here’s the thing—it also distances you from the actual situation and turns the person into a “character” in your head. Most of the time, they’re not doing what they’re doing because they’re evil or out to get you; they’re reacting to the situation they’re in.

And honestly, bitching doesn’t solve anything. Once you decide someone’s the villain and you’re the hero, you’ve already scripted the ending—hero wins, villain loses. But real life? It’s not a movie. It’s messy, complicated, and never black and white. It’s all shades of grey.

So yeah, vent if you need to, but don’t let it lock you into a story that holds you back.

Listening…

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When I took over as the head of this company, my manager gave me a piece of advice that has stuck with me ever since.

He said,
“Amit, just listen to them. All they need is ears.”

At that time, the company was facing significant challenges—low morale, financial instability, and a general sense of uncertainty. It was a pivotal moment, and I knew I had to approach it thoughtfully.

So, I did exactly that: I listened. I listened to everyone—the team, the leadership, HR, consultants—anyone who had something to say. Every perspective mattered. Yes, I made decisions along the way, but those decisions became clear only because I had taken the time to truly understand the people and the problems.

And then something incredible happened. Things started improving—quickly.

What I learned during this time is that listening is one of the most underrated leadership skills. It’s not easy because the urge to jump in with your own ideas, solutions, or plans is strong. But when you pause, set aside your ego, and truly listen, you create space for people to feel valued and heard. That, in turn, builds trust and opens the door to real progress.

Leadership isn’t about having all the answers; it’s about understanding the questions. And often, the simple act of listening is the biggest step toward solving even the toughest challenges.

Regrettable Decisions…

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Is there anyone in this world who doesn’t have regrets? Even Bill Gates, one of the richest people on the planet, has his share of regrets.

Why do we regret? It’s because we think, “What if I had taken another path or made a different decision? Maybe I’d be in a better place now—healthier, wealthier, or happier.”

The problem with this way of thinking is that no matter where you are, there’s always someone—real or imaginary—who seems better off than you.

What we really need is a change in perspective, not our situation. A shift that says: “Where I am today is fine, and I can make things better from here, starting now.”

Or, there’s the other route: contentment. Be content with what you’ve achieved. Be content with who you are. Be content with the people and environment around you.

Either way, sitting around regretting things has got to be one of our favorite time-wasting habits. But if we can cut it short, imagine how much energy and time we’d save—not to mention avoiding all that frustration and negativity.