'WTF India' - A Book That Made Me Angry, But I'm Glad I Read It

Why I read the book?

I have followed and admired Suhel Seth for a long time now. For those who don't know, he is a brand and media consultant who regularly appears on news channels, sharing his opinions on a variety of subjects.

He has also acted in a few movies, but that is certainly not why I admire or follow him!!!

What I have always admired about Suhel Seth is his ability to articulate his thoughts. He doesn't mince his words, calls a spade a spade, and is often brutally direct. Yet, despite his expressions and demeanor suggesting otherwise, he generally remains remarkably calm and composed while making his point.

Okay...I admit... 'calm' may be an exaggeration! What I want to say is that I have seen people getting irritated or agitated during discussions and, in the process, losing control over what they say. Their arguments become less coherent, and their ability to articulate their thoughts suffers. It happens to me all the time!! I have rarely seen Suhel Seth doing that. Even when he is being critical, his arguments are usually well articulated, and there is almost always a pinch of humor, which makes listening to him interesting.

Every time the YouTube algorithm throws up a video or reel featuring Suhel Seth sharing his opinion on something, I invariably end up watching it.

So, when I came across his book, WTF India: Are We Losing the Plot?, I bought it almost immediately. I didn't bother checking what the book was about or reading any reviews. The fact that Suhel Seth had written it was reason enough for me to pick it up.

What is the book about?

In this book, Suhel Seth talks about some of the most fundamental problems affecting India. Problems that we have been living with for years, problems that are getting progressively worse, and problems that nobody seems particularly interested in fixing.

Air pollution, collapsing bridges, crumbling infrastructure, bureaucratic red tape, corruption, rivers turning into sewers, cities getting flooded year after year, and the systematic deterioration of our urban infrastructure. The list goes on.

Let me make it clear. This is not a political book. He doesn't restrict his criticism to any political party, neither the current ruling party nor the party that ruled India for most of the years following Independence. Instead, he questions the ENTIRE system. He questions the citizens too...all of us. 

He questions why are our cities flooding every year? Why do bridges keep collapsing? Why are roads in such terrible condition? Why does nobody seem to be held responsible when things go wrong? And most importantly, where is the accountability?

Now, here is the thing. None of these issues are unknown to us.

We all know about the pollution. We know that our rivers are being polluted, that cities get flooded after a few hours of rain, that bridges collapse, that corruption remains rampant, and that our public infrastructure often leaves a lot to be desired. We read about these things in newspapers, discuss them with friends, complain about them on social media, and then get on with our lives.

However, the book makes you think about them rather differently. It gives you a different perspective.

The book is not simply a rant by an angry man. In fact, what comes through quite clearly is that Suhel Seth is optimistic about India's future. He is hopeful about what this country can achieve. But he is also deeply concerned about the fundamental problems that we seem unwilling or unable to address.

What are some of his key observations?

One observation from the book that particularly stayed with me was that an "air purifier is a symbol of failure". It is so true, isn't it? Air should have been free. We are already paying for practically everything, directly or indirectly, through taxes and other charges. And now, even breathing clean air has become a luxury! Those who can afford it buy air purifiers. Those who cannot afford them have no choice but to breathe whatever air is available. In fact, this is the time of the year when NCR gets covered with haze.

And we have accepted this as normal.

If government schools are not good enough, we send our children to private schools. If government hospitals are inadequate, have poor hygiene, are too crowded, or have bad doctors, we go to private hospitals, irrespective of how badly they might fleece us.

And almost nobody is raising a voice.

Nobody seems to be asking their elected representatives, the ministers, the government, or even the Prime Minister why something as basic as clean air has become a privilege.

What the book made me think?

While reading the book, the underlying emotion that I encountered was ANGER. This book made me really angry. Not at the author, but at the state of affairs around us.

Something must change, and quickly.

We can, of course, turn this into a political debate. Someone will point out what the BJP has failed to do. Someone else will remind us that Congress was no better. And before we know it, the discussion will become yet another argument about which political party is worse.

But I think that would be missing the larger point.

Every government has had its successes and failures. I believe the current government has done several good things since 2014, and as someone who supports Narendra Modi, I have appreciated many of those initiatives. But when it comes to some of the most fundamental problems affecting our daily lives, have we really made the kind of progress that we should have?

I don't think so.

And perhaps the more uncomfortable question is, why would any political party take some of the difficult decisions that are required? Many of these problems cannot be addressed without taking action against powerful stakeholders, including industrialists and businesses that contribute significantly to political funding. Would political parties willingly take decisions that might hurt the interests of those who fund them?

Then there are the policymakers, bureaucrats, and senior officials, many of whom do not face the everyday problems that ordinary citizens face. They have the means and plush bungalows that allow them to ignore the issues faced by millions every day.

And those of us who are affected have largely learnt to live with the situation.

Interestingly, while I was reading the book, protests demanding the resignation of the Chief Election Commissioner were taking place at Jantar Mantar. I don't support those protests because they are politically colored. There is an agenda, an ulterior motive. 

But the book made me think.

Perhaps what we need is for ordinary citizens to come out on the streets, peacefully, sensibly, and without political affiliations, to demand fundamental changes. Not to support one political party or oppose another, but to demand better governance, better infrastructure, greater transparency, and accountability. Because unless we start demanding these things, why would anything change?

I know it's difficult. We have families to take care of, mouths to feed, children to educate, offices to go to, and a hundred other responsibilities. We cannot spend every waking hour fighting the system. But surely, something must be done. We must start questioning our elected representatives and also start voting for the right reasons. Right now, we vote for all sorts of reasons. Political ideology, religious leanings, personalities, caste, and sometimes simply because we dislike the alternative. Several people give their vote to someone for freebies, few hundred rupees, a bottle of liquor or a packet of biryani. How many of us and how often do we vote on the basis of measurable performance and accountability? And how often do we actually question the people we elect?

While reading the book, I was also reminded of a YouTube video I had watched recently. In the video, lyricist Prasoon Joshi asks Narendra Modi how he would like history to remember him. Modi responds by referring to the Vedas and points out that while the Vedas continue to guide us even today, nobody remembers who wrote them. If those who gave us the Vedas are not remembered, who is he in comparison? He does not wish to be remembered.

When I first watched that reel, it brought a smile to my face. I thought it was a wonderful answer. But after reading this book, I want Narendra Modi to reconsider that thought.

As someone who supports him, I would like him to leave behind a legacy that goes beyond electoral victories, political achievements, or even the initiatives that his government has undertaken. I would like him to be remembered as someone who was willing to take extremely difficult decisions without weighing their political consequences. Someone who was willing to put the country's long-term interests ahead of his own political interests or those of his party. Someone who brought about fundamental, revolutionary changes in how India functions. Changes that would make our institutions more accountable, our administrators more answerable, and our public infrastructure more reliable. Changes that would finally put an end to this chalta hai attitude that seems to have become an integral part of our lives.

I am not taking anything away from what he and his government have achieved. There have been few shortcomings, certainly, but there have also been several achievements that deserve high appreciation. However, I am not convinced that many of these achievements, by themselves, will address the deeper structural problems that have plagued India for decades. We need something much bigger.

We need changes that will outlast governments and political parties. And I would like Narendra Modi to be more demanding, more decisive, and more effective in bringing about those changes.

Of course, the problem is that these changes are easier to talk about than to implement.

And this is where I found myself disagreeing, at least to some extent, with the solutions suggested in the book. Suhel Seth doesn't merely highlight problems. He also offers possible ways of addressing them. Now, when you consider each solution individually, many of them seem perfectly commonsensical. But when you look at the larger picture, some of them begin to appear rather impractical or unfeasible.

You read them and think, yes, this is exactly what should happen. And then you wonder, but how on earth are we going to make it happen?

At one point, I even found myself thinking that perhaps what India needs is a sane dictator! Yes, I realize how ridiculous that sounds.

A dictator with absolute authority, but also a balanced head. Someone who doesn't have to worry about elections, political compulsions, or upsetting powerful interest groups. Someone who can simply take the decisions that need to be taken and ensure that they are implemented.

But that is probably the biggest contradiction of all. As they say, power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. The idea of someone having unlimited authority and yet always using it wisely is probably as unrealistic as some of the solutions I found myself questioning. It could potentially lead to disaster. We have seen something very similar in United States in recent times!!

I wish someone could put a gun to our heads and compel us to change. Because the kind of systemic and fundamental reforms that India needs will require changing not just policies and institutions, but also the way we think and behave. And that is no small task.

The book also made me think about what I would do differently if I were given the authority and a free hand to bring about changes.

One thought that kept coming to me was, why can't we run our states like companies? Think about it. Every company is expected to have a business plan, financial statements, performance targets, and mechanisms for reviewing its progress.

Why shouldn't state governments be expected to demonstrate similar levels of transparency and accountability? I would like every state to publish something resembling a profit and loss statement and balance sheet every quarter, in newspapers and on publicly accessible platforms.

Governments must already be preparing budgets, financial statements, and reports for various authorities. Maybe the Comptroller and Auditor General. I do not know.

But how many ordinary citizens have access to these documents, or actually read and understand them? I am talking about something much simpler and more accessible.

Every quarter, every state government should tell its citizens how much revenue it generated, how much it spent, what it had planned to achieve, and what it actually achieved. If certain projects were delayed, why were they delayed? If expenditure exceeded the budget, what went wrong? If a road was supposed to be completed in six months and remains unfinished after two years, who is responsible? What corrective action has been taken? What improvements have been made in roads, electricity, water supply, education, healthcare, public transport, and other essential services?

All this information should be published in a manner that an ordinary citizen can understand. And there must be consequences for poor performance.

More importantly, every state should have a clearly articulated long-term vision. What does it want to become over the next ten or twenty years? What are its priorities? How does it intend to achieve them? What resources will it need? And how will success be measured?

For instance, consider a state in Northeast India that relies heavily on tourism. What is its long-term plan for developing tourism? How does it intend to attract more visitors while ensuring that tourism doesn't damage the environment? How many jobs does it expect to create? How will the local population benefit? What infrastructure needs to be developed? What are the revenue projections? And what progress is being made against these plans? Everything should be documented, published, and reviewed regularly.

In the early 2000s, Chandrababu Naidu published a 'Vision 2020' document for Andhra Pradesh in which he outlined where he wanted the state to be by 2020 and how he planned to get there. That should become mandatory.

There should also be a mechanism for citizens to directly question their elected representatives. If the roads in my locality are bad, if there are too many stray dogs, if traffic management is poor, or if accidents are happening regularly, why shouldn't I be able to question the concerned MLA or the minister in a user-friendly manner? And why shouldn't those questions and their responses be publicly available? There should be a forum where citizens can raise these issues, where elected representatives are required to respond, and where the responses are recorded for everyone to see. Once again, there must be consequences for poor performance.

If someone consistently fails to perform their responsibilities, there should be a mechanism for holding them accountable, including appropriate penalties where warranted. Accountability cannot simply mean facing voters once every five years. It has to be continuous.

How is the book?

As evident from the previous section, the book compels you to think. It makes you ask what you would do if you were in a position to change things. What would you prioritize? How would you address these problems? How would you ensure that the changes actually happen?

And that, I think, is one of the biggest strengths of this book.

It doesn't necessarily tell you things you didn't know. But it makes you look at familiar problems differently and holistically, helps you structure your thoughts, and makes you question why we have accepted so many things that should never have become acceptable in the first place.

I would, however, caution anyone planning to read it.

This book can be depressing. Very depressing, in fact. It brings together so many things that are fundamentally wrong with our country, explains how they affect our lives, and makes you realize how little accountability exists. At times, the book can make you so angry that you almost feel like starting a mutiny!

And when you begin to think about the scale of the changes required, and how difficult they would be to implement, the feeling of helplessness can be rather overwhelming.

What makes it interesting, though, is Suhel Seth's writing style.

Despite discussing some extremely grim subjects, he manages to keep the narrative engaging. His trademark wit and humor are present throughout, and his ability to articulate complicated issues in a direct and relatable manner makes the book a compelling read.

You might get angry while reading it. You might feel frustrated, helpless, or even depressed. But you certainly won't get bored. And despite my reservations about the practicality of some of the solutions, I would strongly recommend this book.

Not because it offers all the answers, but because it makes you ask questions that we should probably have been asking for a long time. It makes you think about the country we live in, the things we have learnt to tolerate, and the kind of country we should aspire to become.

I am glad that I read the book. In fact, when I was barely a couple of chapters into it, I tweeted to him saying, "Damn you, Suhel Seth! I have this habit of highlighting interesting passages, observations, and key takeaways while reading. 40 pages into your book and I have highlighted almost everything!"

Practically every other page had something relatable and thought-provoking. Eventually, I gave up highlighting altogether. When almost the entire book seems worth taking notes on, the exercise becomes rather pointless.

My rating: 4.5 out of 5.

A Storm, Some Eggs and a Lesson in Leadership

It is a story of a Captain of a small fishing vessel and a deckhand (fisherman or crew member). Or is it a story about leadership? Or maybe about practicing what one preaches? Not sure...it is one of those, or maybe all of them. You guys decide.

The Captain was also the owner of the vessel. He and the deckhand were the only members of the crew.

The deckhand loved and cared about the vessel. There were multiple reasons for that. We will not go into all of them. Let's just say that the deckhand felt obliged and duty-bound, as his employment on the vessel helped him pay his bills and take care of his family. He felt a sense of obligation. He really wanted the vessel, the Captain and their fishing business to flourish.

Everything was going well. However, one day, the vessel got into troubled waters. There was a heavy storm that left the vessel badly bruised. There was considerable damage, but the most devastating was the failure of the navigation and communication systems. Without them, taking the vessel to its destination was a difficult ask. The Captain and the deckhand tried to navigate based on their judgement, but soon realized that they were completely lost...and literally at sea!

Days went by. They kept trying to navigate the vessel towards the shore.

After a few days, the Captain walked up to the deckhand and told him that he would try to repair the broken systems and also try to navigate the vessel using ancient methods, with the help of the stars. This would take time, but it was possible. However, the Captain added that the bad news was that they were almost entirely out of food and water!

The Captain said that he had been rationing his own intake of food and water for days. However, they had now reached a critical stage. He casually said that if the deckhand could go without food and water for 6 days, they might have a chance, as the remaining stock of eggs and water could be saved for an absolute emergency. (For food, they used to carry only eggs, as they were easier to store and cook in the small kitchen of their vessel.)

The deckhand was shocked. Did the Captain seriously expect him to go without food and water, or was he merely joking to lighten the mood? He was clueless. The deckhand had never really looked into the exact stock position, so he had no idea that the situation was that bad. He also felt bad for the Captain since the Captain, by his own admission, had been rationing his consumption. He did not want this fate for himself, the Captain or the vessel.

The deckhand was not sure what to make of it. He thought that surviving at sea without food and water for days would be extremely difficult. But what choice did they have? And he was not even sure if the Captain actually meant it.

The next day, the Captain said it again. Casually. But this time, it weighed a little heavier.

While the deckhand had his doubts and was scared, he started preparing himself mentally. He told himself that if the situation was truly this dire and the Captain was leading by example, he should, and must, gladly do the same. The deckhand was not sure if he can go completely without food and water but he started preparing himself for rationing his intake too. After all, they both had to try to reach the shore together. It was not an easy decision for him, but he genuinely believed that loyalty sometimes demanded sacrifice.

He did not say anything to the Captain and decided to wait for the Captain to bring it up again, since on both previous occasions, it had seemed more like a casual suggestion, almost a joke. He was okay even if the Captain simply announced the decision without asking him again.

The rationing or cutting down of food and water intake did not start the next day. He did not ask why, but thought that maybe the Captain wanted them to be mentally and physically prepared for the ordeal ahead.

Later that day, the deckhand happened to go to the pantry-cum-mini-kitchen to get some water. There was barely any water left. He looked at the stock of eggs and noticed that it was quite low too. He felt bad, but then, the Captain had already made him aware of the stock position.

While walking out, he went past the Captain's cabin and happened to notice a supplies log (register) on the Captain's desk. He was curious, so he went in and picked up the log.

He noticed that the entries showed that the Captain had been consuming much more than what he had claimed. And much more than the deckhand.

To explain it with an example, the deckhand normally used to get 72 eggs every 12 days. At the same rate, over the past 6.5 days (since the storm damaged their vessel), he had consumed around 40 eggs. The Captain, on the other hand, had consumed 82 eggs in the same period!!

That was not the issue. He did not want to compare and he did not feel bad about the stark difference. After all, Captains are entitled to higher privileges. Captains carry responsibilities, take risks and deserve their rewards. So, it fair that the Captain got higher share of the supplies and even if he had consumed 200, it did not matter to the deckhand.

However, does that apply in a crisis situation too? He did not think so, but...maybe.  

To be fair to the Captain, he never actually rationed the intake of the deckhand. 

But still, what was the need for the Captain to lie? Why did the Captain have to paint a wrong picture about rationing his own intake? Why did the Captain propose, even if casually, that the deckhand go without food for the next 6 days? The situation was indeed quite serious and it warranted some austerity measures. What was the Captain doing about it?

These were questions above the pay grade of the deckhand. So he never questioned the Captain. But something inside him changed.

He still cared about the vessel. He still wanted him and the Captain to reach the shore safely. He still wanted the fishing business to flourish. 

But he was simply no longer certain that everyone aboard believed in the same definition of 'We'.

He lost respect for the Captain.

The true test of leadership is not whether you can persuade others to tighten their belts. It is whether you instinctively reach for your own buckle first.

Nothing… Just Life…

Apparently, we've discovered the ultimate answer to every question. Just three magical words that say absolutely nothing while pretending to explain everything.

“Doctor, why am I having these terrible headaches?”

“Nothing… just life…”

“Why did Kattappa kill Baahubali?”

“Nothing… just life…”

“Why did the chicken cross the road?”

“Nothing… just life…”

“Why does the Sun rise from East?”

“Nothing… just life…”

“Why is your work delayed?”

“Nothing… just life…”

“Why have you changed so much as a person and friend?”

“Nothing… just life…”

“Why are you not honoring your professional commitments?”

“Nothing… just life…”

“Why do you think EVERYONE but you are at fault?”

“Nothing… just life…”

Brilliant, isn't it? Three words, endless applications, zero clarity.

Who knew avoiding a question could sound so philosophical?

Nothing… just life…

Competence Is Revealed in the Small Things

Poor management or administration is rarely about one big mistake. More often, it shows up in the way small, everyday issues are handled.

Take a simple facilities issue from a fictional office. The air conditioning in one section of the office has not been working since last few days. The section is too warm to work comfortably, but since only 2-3 people are affected, fixing it doesn't seem to be a priority. There are no proactive updates from the administration team either. The only way to know what's happening is to keep asking for a status every day. 

That is poor administration.

To be able to work comfortably, one of the employees - who cannot stand the hot temperature - booked an available conference room through the proper process. However, he is asked to vacate it for a meeting that was never booked (it was requested by the attendees but was never booked by the Admin Manager). He is asked to move to another room, even though that room isn't available for the required duration.  

At that point, the broken AC is no longer the real problem. The conference room isn't either. It is about competence and professionalism...or the lack of it.

Good administration requires promptly addressing workplace issues, adhering to established procedures, keeping everyone posted, and proactively suggesting workarounds. Professionalism is not measured only by how organizations and people respond to major challenges. It is reflected in how they handle the small ones. 

Perhaps that is asking for too much.

Convicted by a Five-Year-Old

Today, my wife reminded me of an incident that happened in 2017 and requested that I write about it.

We had just returned from Malaysia after spending little over 5 years there. My daughter was five years old and had joined a school in Pune.

In Class 1, students learn basic English, Maths and Hindi, but they learn more about good habits, hygiene, body parts, family, social skills, soft skills, and good behaviour. I am sure her school was teaching her all those things. We used to ask her every day what she had learned in school, but she would not divulge much. She still does not!

One day, the three of us went to watch a movie. I do not recall the the movie, but I do remember that the movie hall was mostly empty and that we had corner seats in the top row. I also remember that my daughter was wearing a purple frock with bright flowers printed on it. As always, she looked extremely cute. 

Although we had bought tickets for our daughter, like most kids her age, she hardly sat in her seat. She climbed down and started walking around. Since she was not making any noise and there were not too many people around, we did not mind or stop her. 

During the interval, we got some snacks. The usual stuff. Popcorn, fries, soft drinks, and a chicken hotdog. It was brought in a snacks tray. We enjoyed the snacks and continued watching the movie. Since I was the only one eating popcorn, and popcorn lasts the longest, the tray eventually landed in my lap. I was sitting in the corner seat, with my wife next to me and our daughter standing beside her.

Once I finished the popcorn, I put the tray under my seat. 

While I was doing that, I noticed that my daughter was looking at me. I smiled at her and continued watching the movie. Although I stopped looking at her, I could tell from the corner of my eye that she was still staring at me.

Then she came over and stood in front of me. She looked sad and disappointed. I could tell that she wanted to say something. I immediately bent forward and gently put my arms around her. I brought my ear close to her face and waited for her to speak. 

And then she asked...

"Are you a bad human?"

I was taken aback but thought (and hoped) I had misheard her. So I asked again... only to hear the same brilliant question once more. Entirely my fault. 

She repeated, "Are you a bad human?"

I was stunned and looked towards my wife. She was busy with her fries and did not care what was going on around her. I told her about the question. Again, entirely my fault, as all I got in return were some wicked giggles.

I asked my daughter why she had asked me that. She did not answer. Then my wife asked her too. 

At that point, my daughter pointed towards the snack tray that I had put under my seat and said, "Teacher says that people who litter are bad humans."

The movie was no longer the most entertaining thing in the theatre for my wife. She was laughing like the evil and crazy woman she actually is.

Since when is putting a snack tray under the seat considered littering? 😡

But there was no point arguing with this three-foot-tall little ball of cuteness.

And now, nine years later, someone should see her room. The mess that she creates. A city completely devastated by earthquake looks more organized and neat compared to her room. All that learning, which was slightly flawed in any case, was only for me???

But the question still haunts me. And I can never forget her expression. She was genuinely disappointed to discover that her father was a "bad human!!" 

"He Surely Does Not Drink"

I do not recall when this incident happened but it was easily at least 20 years ago. 

My parents were travelling by train. They had tickets in AC First Class. My father, back then a serving army officer, used to carry a bottle or two of alcohol on most of his trips so he could have a drink with friends or family at the destination.

On the same train, a cousin of mine and his wife (my Bhabhi) were also travelling. They were in a different class and compartment. However, when my cousin found out that my father - his maternal uncle or Mama - was travelling on the same train, he became excited because he knew that my father was likely to have something 'interesting' in his luggage.

AC First Class in Indian trains is comfortable and does not have too many passengers. It has either a cabin, which is a larger four-berth compartment designed for families or small groups, or a coupe, which is a private two-berth compartment for solo travelers or couples/duos. Once the journey started, my parents settled into their cabin.

After some time, my cousin and Bhabhi came over. The four of them started chatting. I am not sure if there were any other people in the cabin. 

After a while, my father offered him a drink. My father usually did not drink on trains because it is illegal and can make other passengers uncomfortable. The fact that he offered a drink makes me think there was probably no one else in the cabin. I could be wrong though.

After a few drinks, my cousin became a little high and started opening up about everyone in the family. The conversation drifted towards who among the younger generation drank. Most of the cousins were adults by then, and my father knew that everyone must be drinking. Still, it was not yet 'publicly  known information'. 

More than anyone else, my father wanted to know about me. 

One by one, my father started asking about everyone, and my cousin, in a 'happy state by now', was more than willing to answer. He told my father who drank what, how much each person drank, what each one did when drunk, funny anecdotes... every secret was coming out.

My father encouraged him, enjoyed the details, and laughed at the incidents. He asked about everyone except me.

Then, towards the end, my father made a statement.

"Vini nahi peeta hoga". (Vini surely does not drink). 

*Vini is my nickname. 

My father did not question. He just made a statement and showed pride. I do not think he actually believed it. It was a ploy to bring out an honest reaction.

My cousin, a few years older than me and generally a mature guy, saw the trap and said, "Yes, you are right. Vini does not drink." 

I wish!

So what did he do?

My cousin laughed mockingly at my father's statement and said:

"Vini nahi peeta hoga!!!??? Vini tanker hai...TANKER!!!" (Vini does not drink!!!??? He is a TANKER!!!)

* In slang, the term "tanker" refers to a heavy drinker or an alcoholic.

The next time I spoke to my father, he asked, 'Suney tum TANKER ho" (Heard that you are a tanker). I was taken aback!

Later my mother narrated the entire incident and I came to know how my cousin broke the bro code! 😠😡

The Voice of Dissent is Not Disrespect

In professional environments, the voice of dissent is often misunderstood. I firmly believe that sometime the most valuable person in the room is the one willing to say, "I disagree." Not because they enjoy conflict. Not because they want to undermine someone. But because they genuinely believe that an alternative point of view needs to be heard.

Over the years, I have had a few situations where I felt it was important to express an uncomfortable opinion honestly. But is honesty always accepted and appreciated? I want to share a couple of examples and also reflect on how people reacted to dissent in each case.

A few years back, I was speaking to an entrepreneur friend and his founding team. They had been working on a venture for the last few years. They had managed to get some angel investors on board, which put some fuel in the tank. The initial funding helped them get started.

But over time, the venture gulped up truck loads of money. The angel investment was gone and the founders themselves had spent more than double that amount from their own pockets.

I had been observing their journey closely. To their credit, they had indeed come a long way. But in MY opinion, they still had miles to go. More importantly, I was not convinced that continuing further made sense anymore.

My concern was partly financial. The venture was becoming financially draining for the founders. But there was another concern as well.

The service they were building was heavily dependent on technology. While the founding team understood the industry and the problem they were trying to solve, they had very limited understanding of the technical complexities involved. It was a tech-heavy business being driven largely by non-technical founders.

In my consulting career, I have seen several entrepreneurs make one common mistake - they fall too much in love with their idea.

There is nothing wrong with passion. In fact, passion is often necessary to survive the brutal journey of building something from scratch. But there is a fine line between believing in an idea and becoming emotionally inseparable from it.

Sometimes good ideas fail. Not because the founders lack intent or work ethic, but because timing, execution, capability, market realities, or a dozen other factors do not align. And at some stage, one must be able to assess objectively whether continuing to invest time, money, and energy still makes sense.

As Kevin O'Leary often says on Shark Tank, sometimes you need to "take it behind the barn and shoot it."

During the discussion, I did not hold back. I felt the founders needed to hear an uncomfortable perspective, so I expressed my thoughts without mincing words.

One person in the team, especially, was deeply attached to the venture. It was his idea. He had spent countless hours building it. Compared to others, he had probably spent 100x more time, emotion, and effort on it.

Imagine someone questioning something that has consumed years of your life. Imagine someone asking you to let go of a dream you built from scratch.

Yet, what stood out to me was the maturity with which the disagreement was handled. The discussion remained calm. He explained his point of view. I explained mine. There was disagreement, but there was also mutual respect. No bitterness. No hostility. No personal attacks.

Now lets look at the second incident, which happened some years after the first incident. I found myself in a very different disagreement.

At a company where I was working, there was an issue regarding the designation of a team member. When the individual had originally joined the organization, there were no formal bands attached to designations. She had joined as Senior Consultant, but due to an error in official records, her designation was incorrectly reflected as Consultant.

Later, when the company introduced structured designation bands, the incorrect designation evolved into Consultant Tier 1 in the system. After spending couple of  years in the system, she finally noticed her designation. Her designation was updated to Senior Consultant Tier 1. Up to this point, there was no disagreement. Correcting an error in records was a no-brainer.

However, one of the fellow leaders - let us call him Person ABC - wanted the designation to be elevated further to Senior Consultant Tier 2. And, he wanted this change to happen without it being treated as a promotion!

That was where I disagreed.

My disagreement was not about the individual employee. In fact, I had no issue (hmmm...lets say - almost no issue) with her performance or capability. My concern was about organizational consistency and the precedent it would create. Promotions had already been announced and a sudden change in someone's designation could have raised eyebrows and led to uncomfortable questions. The argument from Person ABC were not invalid but I did feel that selective points were being considered. Like a defense lawyer.

I also felt there was a practical issue being ignored. This individual wanted to be elevated and if the change in designation was not officially classified and communicated as a promotion, the employee herself could have questioned it. And she would still expect or demand a formal promotion in the next cycle. 

I expressed these concerns openly during the leadership discussion. It was a difference in opinion and nothing more. I was not obstructing the decision, nor was I unwilling to go with the majority view eventually. I simply believed that the implications needed to be discussed properly before a call was taken.

During the course of the discussion, it eventually emerged that Person ABC had already promised the higher designation to the employee. Personally, I felt that should never have happened. Since the promise had already been made, the rest of us agreed to proceed with the change.

In my honest opinion, this was a much smaller issue than the first incident.

In the first case, I was asking someone to reconsider years of effort, passion, sacrifice, and truck loads of money invested into a venture. In the second case, it was merely a disagreement over a designation band in an HR context. No one's dream was collapsing. No existential crisis was involved. The practical impact on the employee was limited.

Yet when I look back at both incidents side-by-side today, what fascinates me is not the disagreements themselves, but the reactions to them.

In the first incident, despite the emotional weight attached to the discussion, the dissent was received with maturity. The entrepreneur heard me out, calmly shared his perspective, and there were no ill-feelings afterwards. In the second incident, despite the issue being relatively minor, Person ABC reacted emotionally, said things rudely, and eventually stopped speaking to me!

And perhaps that is the real lesson about dissent.

Dissent itself is not rude. It is not disrespectful. It is not disloyalty. It is not negativity. It is simply the willingness to express a different point of view honestly and present strong arguments (and not disagree just for the heck of it). 

What truly defines individuals and leaders is not whether they face dissent. Everyone does. What defines them is how they respond to it. Some people can hear uncomfortable truths without taking them personally. Others perceive even minor disagreement as an attack on their judgment, authority, or ego. 

The irony is that the people willing to dissent are often the ones most invested in preventing mistakes.

Healthy organizations, strong leadership teams, and mature individuals do not eliminate dissent. They create space for it. 

Because progress rarely comes from rooms where everyone agrees. 

Breaking News: Good Orators Don’t Automatically Become Good Actors

Yesterday, I watched the movie Kartavya starring Saif Ali Khan, Sanjay Mishra, Rasika Dugal, Manish Chaudhari, Saharsh Kumar Shukla, Zakir Hussain and journalist-turned-actor Saurabh Dwivedi. The film itself was extremely mediocre. The storyline felt weak and too predictable with very little that could engage the audience.

So why am I wasting even more time and writing about it? 

Though one must be kind because it is his first movie, I simply could not stop myself from writing about just how disappointing Saurabh Dwivedi’s performance turned out to be. He is an exceptionally gifted speaker and has built a strong reputation through his lengthy and compelling monologues on 'The Lallantop', which he has now left. Naturally, I expected him to carry at least some of that effortless command and screen presence into cinema. Unfortunately, the opposite happened.

Dwivedi appears in only a handful of scenes, despite being positioned as the film’s principal antagonist. More importantly, nearly all his scenes are shared with seasoned performers like Sanjay Mishra, Manish Chaudhari, Saharsh Kumar Shukla and Saif Ali Khan. The contrast is brutal. Against actors with such natural rhythm and command over dialogue delivery, his performance feels even more fragile and unconvincing.

Almost every line he speaks sounds rehearsed rather than lived. There is no conversational flow, emotional spontaneity or screen instinct. His expressions appear stiff, his pauses unnatural and his dialogue delivery painfully artificial. In many scenes, it genuinely becomes uncomfortable to watch. His performance can be used as the case study of what not do in acting.

The director deserves equal criticism here. Either Dwivedi was miscast from the beginning or he was not directed properly enough to hide his limitations. It almost feels as though the makers themselves realized midway that the performance was not working, because his screen presence appears noticeably reduced as the film progresses. Whether that was due to editing choices or a conscious attempt to minimize damage, the result is obvious on screen.

I am not sure whether he has more films or web series lined up, but I hope he improves as an actor. Though, based on this performance, I will not put my money on it!

The Mirror You Handed Me

You are telling me, “Thanks for showing me the mirror and my true worth.”

First - see how well I know you, because I had already written about this exact reaction.

Second - isn’t this the pot calling the kettle black?

In the last episode we had, I told you very clearly that there was something I did not like. I told you that you insulted me. I told you that I am hurt. And what did you choose after that? Sarcasm. Silence.

So that is MY exact worth in your eyes, isn’t it?

That I should not have a voice? That I do not have the right to feel hurt? After all, who am I?

Moreover, you are telling me that I showed you your true worth - after reading my last blog!! After the episode where you weighed my worth in monetary terms? But Raja Saab ko toh sab maaf hai, isn’t it?

Before the latest episode, I come and hugged you so many times because I missed you. I have told you what you mean to me. I have stood by you. I have defended you. I have categorically refused to throw you under the bus and prevented others from doing that. I have always tried to be there whenever you needed me. I have cried for you. I have cared. I have prayed for you. I have counted on you.

I neither have the intention to tell you your worth nor the right to do that. 

But yes. I am showing you the mirror. Someone needs to. I do not have the right. But its not the first time nor the last time. That is because I care. 

Maafi Hukum 🙏

Dagger in the back

I once believed I could read people the way sailors read stars.

So when the room grew heavy and my name became a measure of efforts and contributions, I expected the familiar constellations to hold.

• The newest bond became a shield. Defended me. Even fought for me. 

• The classmate/friend took a swipe at me.

• But the oldest bond - the one that I trusted and thought I understood - joined hands with the classmate/friend. 

This is when I have been safeguarding the interest of these two very individuals to the extent possible and create a balance that makes sense for everyone!

Funny how betrayal is rarely loud. Sometimes, it arrives as silence where 'friendship' should have spoken.

Learnt a valuable life lesson today. And I did not even know about this battle!!

(Disclaimer: This is not a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely intentional)

The Friend You Used to Be

You were once someone rare to me.

Not because you did grand things - though you did, and I don't deny that - but because you noticed me when most people didn’t. It felt that you understood me. In a world where presence is often loud but shallow, yours was quiet and real. That is what stayed with me. That is what mattered.

And it still does.

I’ve thanked you many a time. I still do. And I have meant it each time. May be you won’t understand why, but you mattered to me in ways that had nothing to do with what you could give. I of course never had much. I am not a man of means - I never was - but I have always tried to show up in the only way I knew how: by being there. Emotionally. Physically. Honestly. Consistently.

But now, may be in the last couple of years and definitely in the last one year, it feels that things have changed. I feel that you have changed and I guess you feel that I have changed. 

The person who once felt warm and genuine now feels distant and 'calculated'. I am sure that when you do things for people, you do not expect much. However, now very frequently, I hear that I did 'so much' for XYZ and I did not get anything in return. And invariably, that 'so much' is materialistic, expensive things. I have found it both strange and different. After all, friendship and generosity are not 'investments' and people's emotions cannot be 'returns'.

That shift is hard to ignore.

Another change is in the people you spend time with. They can be put in three broad buckets (and I am not including women; that's a very different subject). 

There are those above you. These are the ones you seem eager to impress, to emulate. I’ve watched you around them. You stop being yourself. You put up a performance. You are often quite fake in front of them. And I really do not think they respect you the way you think they do. I genuinely hope I am wrong.

Then there’s the middle ground - new friends who are similar to you in status. Comfortable, safe, predictable. No imbalance there, so no tension. You like spending time with them.

And finally, the ones who’ve been around the longest. The ones who knew you before all of this. The ones who care. This group also includes people who have not made it and probably never will. At least they would never achieve the definition of success that you have. You meet them but off late, it feels that you do not respect them. Their value seems negligible. Their voices are inconvenient.

Isn't it strange how the people who stood by you the longest now seem to matter the least?

The past couple of years have made this even clearer. You went through difficult times. To a large extent, it was self-created. From one bad habit to another (let us call them that as I really do not want to be specific). When you felt low, sad, depressed, angry - I was there. Not perfectly, not always with the right words, but I stayed. I questioned you when I had to because I am a friend and not a 'Yes Man'. I supported you when you needed it. I didn’t walk away, even when you tried to push me out. 

During this period, you made several choices. Some of them, extremely hard to defend. Harder to watch. I remained by your side.

I tried to be the 'voice of conscience' and told you the right thing to do. You never did. I still remained by your side.

You hurt people. You dismissed them. You subordinated everyone and everything - work, family, friends, me and - above all - your pride and self-respect. That's the part that hurts me the most because I took pride in you and respected you. I tried to stop you. You distanced yourself, proudly declaring that you no longer care what anyone thinks - that you’re finally living life for yourself. 

Well...you are succeeding. And I genuinely hope you are happy.

You pushed everyone away. Even those who once stood firmly beside you. You’ve drawn lines where there didn’t need to be any. And yet, when those same people feel bad and step back, you act surprised!!! Hurt, even!!!

That part is almost poetic.

I can already imagine your reaction to all of this - something along the lines of, “After everything I’ve done…”

And that’s exactly the point.

Not everything can be bought. Not loyalty. Not respect. Not self-worth. Contrary to what you might believe now, not everyone is transactional. Not everyone trades dignity for gifts, or affection for favors. Some people still hold on to things like pride and self-respect. Outdated concepts to you perhaps but they matter to people. 

For what it’s worth - I never stayed because of what you offered. Not the gifts. Not the gestures. Not the things you insisted on giving. Take back everything you have given and more....but return my old friend.

I stayed with you because of who you were. You used to care. You used to listen. You used to understand without needing explanations. That version of you - that’s the one who mattered. This version… now feels unfamiliar. 

I am hurt.

You know that. Not because you understood. Now, I no longer expect that from you. You know that because you asked, "are you mad at me for something"? And I told you. And then what? You chose silence over conversation. I would never do that to you because this is not what friends do.

But ya, it’s an interesting choice - to walk away from someone who doesn’t need to ask if you’re hurting, because they already know. You have said that to me. I understand when you are hurt, sad, angry, depressed, anxious. I get that by looking at you. I get that from your voice. If I have to ask you then I have failed as a friend.

I am someone who stayed. I am someone who cared. Someone who, despite everything, still does.

But I don’t expect anything from you now. Not explanations, not apologies, not a sudden return to who you were. High hopes, isn't it??!! What am I even thinking? I know your reaction if and when you read this would be what I said earlier, "Wow...after everything I’ve done, this is what I get...."

I just hope - genuinely - that whatever path you’re on keeps you as happy as you believe it will. That the bubble holds. That the wonderland doesn’t crack under its own weight.

And that your 'Pursuit of Unrealistic Happiness' turns out to be worth it. Because it did cost something. More than you realize - or may ever be willing to admit.

Take care. I mean that. Even now. 

You have hurt me immensely. You know that - unlike you - I do not have many friends and when I needed anything, I have always turned to you. Thanks for taking that away. You have shown me, with remarkable clarity, how little I matter.

But I still care and...I always will. I have not given up on you. It is not in me at all. I still hope that one day you will stumble your way back to senses and understand your priorities and the people who genuinely care. Will wait...

Et Tu, Brute?

I recently ordered a grapefruit from one of the instant delivery apps . In the picture it looked bright, juicy, and extremely inviting. I also realized that I might never have actually tasted a grapefruit before. Since I love citrus fruits, I decided it was time to try one.

Within minutes, the fruit arrived.

I requested my wife to bring it to me because I was eager to try it immediately. She went to the kitchen with the fruit and returned a moment later with it neatly cut into smaller portions and arranged on a plate. 

She placed it in front of me and casually said, “It’s very tasty. sweet and refreshing.”

That made me suspicious.

You see, I have a long history of playing a particular trick on her. My wife absolutely hates sour food. If she ever asks me to taste an orange or a grape first she tries it, I will take a bite and - even if it is painfully sour - I would calmly say that it is very nice. She then takes a bite and immediately regrets trusting me. The expression that follows is priceless.

So when she told me this grapefruit was “sweet,” I was not entirely convinced.

At that exact moment, my daughter walked into the room. She saw the plate and said she wanted to try some. She took a small piece, popped it into her mouth, and instantly said, “Wow! This is really nice. Very sweet.”

That changed everything. I will ALWAYS doubt my wife. But my daughter, my little angel, my little bundle of innocence? NEVER

Feeling reassured, I picked up a large piece and confidently put the entire thing in my mouth.

The next few seconds were… unforgettable.

The fruit was extraordinarily sour. Not mildly sour. Not slightly sour. It was the kind of sour that makes your eyes close automatically, your teeth clench, and your entire face rearrange itself into a very dramatic expression.

When I finally recovered and opened my eyes, I looked at my wife.

Then at my daughter.

Both of them were laughing uncontrollably.

At that moment, I realized something historic had occurred. My daughter had joined forces with my wife. This was not just a prank. This was a carefully coordinated act of deception.

This incident should always be known as one of the greatest betrayals ever executed in the history of mankind.

I may have lost this round, but the citrus wars are far from over.

I Asked for an Image, Got an Experience

Creating images with AI can be both amusing and frustrating. While clear prompts are essential, even precise instructions do not always guarantee the desired outcome. In a recent attempt to generate an image using Gemini, I found the process unexpectedly cumbersome, frustrating but also hilarious! Below is my actual chat with Gemini, which illustrates the challenges I encountered during the image-generation process.

Me: Create an image of 2 friends running away from a shop with soft drinks bottles in hand. They are nervous. There is a scooter (lambretta) in the parking lot.Two male friends. One tall and one short. Running away from the shop. Each has a soft drinks bottles in hand.

Gemini: 

Me: Only one bottle each. Glass bottle.

Gemini:

Me: No. Each guy has only one bottle

Gemini:

Me: One guy is holding 2 bottles. Please remove one bottle

Gemini: 

Me: Now his hand is gone. Please fix that

Gemini:

Me: 😡😡😡