When Life Brings You to a Halt!

 
There are certain years in life that feel unbearably heavy — where challenges seem to pile up, and every day feels like you’re carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. Such times leave scars, yes, but also carve lessons so deep that they never quite leave you.

I had one such year, a few years ago. A major surgery forced me into stillness. Suddenly, I had time — time I never asked for, but desperately needed. As I lay recovering, thoughts began layering themselves in my mind, one after another. Some were sharp realisations. Others were whispers that grew louder with every passing day.

Here are the ones that stayed with me:

Realisation #1 - The Body Always Warns Us.
Every ailment starts with small signs — a sneeze, a headache, unexplained fatigue. For women, it often intertwines with stress, cycles, and silent pressures that compound over time. As a single mother and entrepreneur, I brushed them aside until my body gave up on me. And then, it demanded to be heard. The truth is simple: if you don’t listen to your body, one day it will make you listen.

Realisation #2 - Pain Redefines Priorities.
When the body is in pain, nothing else matters. To-do lists, deadlines, plans — they all dissolve. All you crave is relief. Pain, in any form, has the power to humble us, to strip away illusions, and to remind us of the most basic desire: to simply be okay again.

Realisation #3 - True Friends Are Rare.
In crisis, less than 5% of the people you know will actually stand by you. Those who do, they’re not just friends — they’re your life companions. The rest? They’re characters passing through your story. I came across a line that captures this beautifully: “Give it and see, leave it and see. If it comes back, it’s yours. If not, it never was.”

Realisation #4 - Actions Speak Louder Than Words.
Not everyone who says they care, truly does. Real concern doesn’t always look like grand gestures; sometimes it’s a small, quiet presence that proves more powerful than words. Life’s hardest moments reveal the gap between intention and action.

Realisation #5 - The World Moves On.
This one stings the most. No matter your suffering, life outside doesn’t pause. People continue with their routines, and the world spins at its own pace. The sooner we accept this truth, the lighter our hearts become. Acceptance doesn’t make pain vanish, but it does make it easier to carry.

That year left its marks, but also its gifts. Today, I carry these lessons not as scars, but as reminders.

If there’s one thing I’d leave you with, it’s this:

Listen to your body, cherish the rare few who truly stand by you, and remember — pain is temporary, but the wisdom it brings can shape you for a lifetime.

When a Conversation Becomes a Connection!

We, the people, rush.

We rush through our days. We rush through our decisions. We rush past moments that matter.
We overlook the magic hidden in ordinary interactions.
We forget to see - really see - the people we meet.
Even if we do – We just browse through or brush away

I’ve done that too. Afterall, I’m part of “those people.”

But every now and then, life taps you on the shoulder.
And in one such unexpected moment, someone walked in, stayed for just two hours - and stayed in my life forever.

Isn’t that life’s strange paradox?
Some people are in your life for years yet leave no impression.
Others appear for a fleeting moment - and leave a mark that time cannot fade.

A Coffee, a Conversation, and Something More 

It was a bright morning in Bangalore - the kind where the sun filters gently through chaos. I was heading Human Resources at First American, and we were on the lookout for a Head of Learning & Development.

My colleague Toufiq, who led Talent Acquisition and was one of the blue-eyed boys in the team, forwarded me a profile. The resume looked promising. I decided to meet the candidate for an informal chat. No boardroom, no formality - just a conversation.

We chose Café Coffee Day at Wilson Garden. That CCD had a certain charm - tucked in just off a traffic - clogged road, yet oddly calm, like a quiet corner in a crowded mind.

She walked in, poised yet warm. We ordered our coffees, settled in - and dove into a conversation that flowed effortlessly. We spoke of work, leadership, vision, challenges, possibilities… but more than that, we simply connected. It didn’t feel like an interview. It felt like talking to someone you somehow already knew.

I’ve always believed that the best interviews aren’t really interviews.
They’re conversations without agendas. Meetings without masks.

And by the time I exited CCD that morning, I knew. She was the one. I wanted her to be part of our journey.

When Destiny Has Other Plans

But just when everything seemed aligned - resume, conversation, intention - life added its twist. After all, Mr. Destiny needs to play his superiority Right!!

She had to move out of Bangalore due to personal constraints.

And just like that, it ended before it began.

She politely informed us. We wished her well. And that was that.

Now, in most cases, you forget and move on. It’s just “an interview,” right?
But this one lingered. Not in a professional sense, but in a deeply human one.

We never worked together.
But we never lost each other either.

One Coffee. One Connection. One Constant.

A decade has passed. She’s still in Learning & Development. I’m still in the people business.
We live in different cities - Bangalore and Pune. Yet every time we speak, time disappears.

Our conversations have no agendas, no ticking clocks, no filters.

It’s rare, isn’t it? To meet someone who reflects your thoughts without mirroring them, who listens without judgement, who energizes you simply by being herself.

That’s what happened with Sunitha.

One meeting. One spontaneous coffee. And a friendship that outlasted job titles, companies, and cities.

Life’s Quiet Reminders

Sometimes, life doesn’t shout.
It whispers. Through people. Through moments we almost ignore.
It nudges us to slow down, to observe, to feel.
And once in a while, it gives you a gift - wrapped in nothing but conversation.

No fireworks. No declarations. Just two people who met as professionals and left as something far more enduring.

Have you ever met someone like that?
A passing connection that turned into a lifelong friendship?

If yes, maybe it’s time to call them.
And if not—maybe the next coffee you have with a stranger could be the beginning of something beautiful.

Happy Friendship Day!

 

Who Said People Don’t Care?

They say the world has changed.

That kindness is outdated. That empathy is on leave. That everyone is in it for themselves.

And some days, it’s hard to argue.

We see it in the sharp glances of strangers, the hurried silence of elevators, the cold efficiency of meetings, and even the unexpected distance of familiar faces.
Yes - some days it does feel like we’re all just passing each other, eyes down, hearts armored.

But is that the whole truth?

I’ve wrestled with this thought for a while. It’s not a clean yes or no.
Because I’ve also known eccentric behavior that bruised, and gentle gestures that healed.
There’s a strange paradox we live in - we crave connection, yet fear judgment; we want to give, but are wary of being taken for granted.

We hesitate to help those we know - because with familiarity comes expectation.
We run mental spreadsheets - 
What if they ask again?
What if they never stop?
Will I look weak for saying yes?
Or heartless for saying no?

But help a stranger? Oddly easier.
There’s no past as reference. No transaction to balance. No emotional invoice. 
Just a moment of pure, anonymous humanity.
No fear of being judged. No pressure to impress.
Just two people meeting briefly under the same sky.

And that brings me to Basavaraj.

It was a regular Sunday morning. I had ordered breakfast for my parents. Their home is little tricky to find on google maps like solving a riddle, so I called the Zomato delivery partner to guide him.
His name was Basavaraj.

He stayed patiently on the call, politely confirming each turn like a human GPS with empathy mode switched on.
I mentioned it was my parents’ place, and he carefully navigated through until he reached the gate and delivered the food.

Now, this wasn’t a life-changing event.

It was such a simple interaction - but something about the calm in his voice, the respect in his tone, and his unhurried patience in the middle of a rush hour truly moved me.
It’s gestures like these that deserve to be noticed.

After the delivery, I messaged him: “Thank you so much.”

His reply?

“For any help or any kind of emergency, call me, ma’am.”

I blinked at the screen. He didn’t know me. I didn’t know him. I probably wouldn’t even recognize him if he stood right in front of me. And yet, that message - short, sincere, and selfless - moved me more than many formal gestures ever have. 

In that moment, I realized something.
The world hasn’t lost kindness. We’ve just stopped noticing where it quietly lives.

It doesn’t always wear a cape.
Sometimes, it rides a scooter and delivers idli at 11am.

So, No! - People do care.
Not everyone. Not all the time. But enough.
Enough to remind you, on an otherwise unremarkable Sunday, that decency is still out there doing quiet work.

And maybe, that’s the point.

If strangers can show up with warmth and no strings attached, what’s stopping us - the ones with all the strings, the context, and the calendar invites?

Look, I know I tend to get all reflective about these things.
Life throws these moments at me, and before I know it, I’m philosophizing like a chai-sipping Socrates.

Sometimes I wish I could just move on, be that “Oh well, life happens” person.
But No! - Few minor incidents becomes a major internal TED Talk.
And suddenly, I’m narrating morals in my head like a part-time monk with a playlist.

Because truly - everyone carries a story.
And some of them hand you a line from it without even knowing.

So here’s my not-so-grand revolution:

Let’s not underestimate the ripple of a kind word.
Let’s not wait for the world to get its act together before we soften ours.
Let’s not dismiss the power of small acts - because they often echo louder than we think.

Kindness isn’t outdated.
It’s just underrated.

And maybe - just maybe - the world doesn’t need a million Basavaraj's.
It just needs you and me, showing up a little softer, a little less distracted, and a little more human than we were yesterday.

That’s how the world changes.
Not with spotlights.
But with small, unclaimed moments of kindness.

One idli delivery at a time.