What I meant to say

Category: Gyan

  • Confessions of an Information Nut!

    Hi, I have a problem. I hoard information the way some people collect stamps, except stamps don’t stop you from closing deals. Sounds familiar? Read on!

    I used to think more research made me a better banker. Turns out it just made me a slower one.

    This is the great lie of information overload: we tell ourselves we’re being thorough, when really we’re just avoiding the scary part : actually picking up the phone and asking for the business. Reading one more report feels productive. It feels safe. Nobody ever lost a deal by reading too little in the last five minutes before deciding not to call.

    In almost all businesses, the client’s window of interest is small. A competitor with half my knowledge and twice my speed gets there first, and lo and behold, the deal is lost. More information doesn’t win deals. Timely action does.

    I used to think, my knowledge is what will help me garner business at break neck speed. It’s not. I have learnt it the hard way. What’s working for me is just picking up the phone and having that conversation. Sometimes, it works and other times, it doesn’t. At least I don’t feel bad afterwards.

    So, I would say this again. You will never know everything. It’s just not possible. Go ahead, make that call. It might just work for you.

  • My life has become what I preach – A Diversified Portfolio

    Every asset allocator will tell you the same thing: don’t put all your eggs in one basket. So naturally, I spent sometime putting all my eggs in two baskets; one labeled “help rich people get richer” and one labeled “convince strangers that a villa in the hills is exactly what their family reunion needs.” Diversification, I was told, reduces risk. Nobody mentioned it also doubles your calendar invites.

    Here is the truth Morgan Housel would tell you gently over three paragraphs and a fable about a farmer: net worth and self-worth compound on completely different schedules, and mine have never once been on speaking terms. I can build you a stress-tested retirement plan with a 40-year time horizon. I cannot reliably plan my own Sunday. There is a word for this in behavioral finance. I believe the word is “irony,” though my compliance training tells me to check the footnotes.

    Here is the version Prof Galloway would give you, slower, louder, and with a chart nobody asked for: the modern professional doesn’t have a career, he has a cap table. I am long “wealth management,” long “hospitality,” and structurally short “free time.” My personal balance sheet reads like a man hedging against the possibility that spreadsheets alone won’t get him to the life he’s picturing; so he built a second business renting out other people’s dream houses while quietly failing to relax in his own. This is not a strategy. This is a coping mechanism with a business plan attached.

    I collect certifications the way other men collect watches. I have read enough about promoter families and generational wealth transfer to know exactly how the ultra-rich stay calm during market chaos. I have not yet figured out how to stay calm when my partner asks me if we will be able to make payroll this month.

    If there’s a lesson here, and Housel would insist there is, it’s this: the market rewards patience, and so, probably, does everything else. I’m still compounding. The returns just haven’t been audited yet.

    Diversify your assets, they said. Nobody warned me I’d become one.

  • Things get worse before they get better!

    I have always believed in thinking positive. I might sound negative some times, but I guess overall I believe that things do get better in the long run!

    Why am I saying this? Not trying to sound political here but I feel we are losing the essence of ourselves, our camaraderie over certain political issues. I have seen arguments blow up in family whatsapp groups, in otherwise civil coffee time discussions at offices and in general, any place else.

    The idea of the night being the darkest before dawn fills you with a sense of hope. It gives you that tiny sliver of good and warm fuzzy feelings, once you know that a new day is just on the horizon. The idea that one can make a fresh start to another day where you are not constrained by failures of the past day but looking forward to achieving something better today.

    I had literally lost my writing mojo, a while back. Not that I have found it, but at least I know I am moving in the right direction. This post utilizes no AI and I am proud to say that I have tried to be as authentic here as I can. AI in itself might work for some, but I want my writing to represent me, imperfections and all.

    Coming back to the political discourse, I feel that we need to be clear in what we expect from our leaders. We can’t and shouldn’t accept any one on face value. Question, criticise, doubt everything. This would mean that you are actively taking part in the democracy that is India.

  • Half year done, what’s the next surprise?

    The calendar tells me I’ve completed six months of whatever this grand experiment called blogging is. The receipts, however, tell a different story. Missed deadlines for posts and overall shabby writing, but hey I am not complaining!

    Few Surprises that stood out for me this year:

    First surprise: my alarm clock now doubles as a motivational coach with a cruel sense of humor. It buzzes at the exact moment I decide to ignore responsibility, then rewards me with a gentle reminder about missed exercise slots, I so so diligently planned out. Needless to say, I am looking at cheaper Mounjaro/Ozempic options.

    Second surprise: meetings labeled “quick catch-up” have the dramatic length of a feature film. It’s complete with cliffhangers, plot twists, and a mid-roll intermission titled: “Did you actually read the agenda?” I’ve learned to bring snacks, a notebook, and the patience of a saint who has memorized the corporate mission statement. Absent 1 on 1s makes the heart grow fonder.

    So, what’s the takeaway after six months of this unconventional course? Expect the unexpected, but do not underestimate the charm of small, ridiculous victories.

    As the next six months approach, I resolve to welcome surprises with better posture, a keener sense of humor, and a head stocked with patience, calmness and the wisdom not to shout out loud “I don’t give a fuck!”

    Ciao!!

  • The Last-Minute Method: It’s Not Chaos. It’s Strategy.

    Let me tell you something nobody in the productivity-porn industrial complex wants to admit.

    The people crushing it, the ones closing deals, shipping product, generating returns are not the people with color-coded Notion boards and 5 AM journaling rituals. They’re the ones who wait. Who sit on it. Who let the deadline do the heavy lifting.

    They are, in the parlance of people who’ve never actually built anything, procrastinators.

    And they are correct.

    Parkinson’s Law is real. Treat it like gravity.

    Work expands to fill the time available for its completion. Cyril Northcote Parkinson wrote this in 1955. We collectively nodded, said “fascinating,” and then proceeded to give ourselves three weeks to do three-hour tasks.

    The last-minute operator is simply someone who has internalized Parkinson and weaponized it. They’ve collapsed the expansion. They’ve given the work nowhere to bloat.

    That’s not laziness. That’s compression. Compression is how you get diamonds. Isn’t it?

    The market rewards speed, not polish.

    Ask any VC what kills startups. It’s not shipping a rough product. It’s shipping nothing while perfecting everything. The market doesn’t care about your internal review process. It cares about what lands in front of it and when.

    The last-minute practitioner is, structurally, a faster shipper. Their cycle time is shorter because their ramp-up is nonexistent. They bypass the weeks of anxious pre-work, the phantom meetings, the “alignment” theater, and go straight to the part where output actually happens.

    In a world that compounds, speed is a return multiplier. The person who ships at 80% quality in 20% of the time is not underperforming.

    And this is what I could come up with, before my self imposed deadline of at least 1 post in April expired. Phew!! Next time, I will do better.