RajenReflects

Learn, Lead, Leap

Hey, you enjoy reading, don’t you?

What if you could gain real-life insights from lived experiences of a writer?

ARE YOU TROUBLED?

If the wheels of your life are a bit wobbly and you are stuck in a rut, this book may have a solution to your problem.

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Your Voice, My Choice

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Mohit Sain left my team last week. And is relocating to Sydney today. When he first told me he was leaving, my first thought was "oh no". Over two decades of leading teams, I've been here before — that strange place where you're genuinely happy for someone and quietly worried how to fill the gap. It never gets entirely easier. But I've learned what to do with it. This Saturday, I write about letting go, starting over, and the one question that has guided every such decision I've made.

To every student staring at a result right now — good, bad, or somewhere in between. I was you once. Terrified. Underprepared. Hoping for just enough. What I know now, that I wish someone had told me then, is that the number on that marksheet is one sentence in a very long story. Not the last one. Not even close to the most important one.

When I was considering taking on a new job, a well-meaning colleague pulled me aside. "This arrangement doesn't make sense. Think it through. Don't say I didn't warn you." He was confident. He was sincere. But he had no direct evidence. I joined anyway. Years later, I looked back on that decision. Some lessons, you can only learn by crossing the bridge.

It's thirty years since the morning that determined the shape of my career. And the person most responsible for it doesn't know. Because I never got the chance to tell him properly. His name is Shekhar. In 1995-96, he worked at India Feature Service in Delhi and lived in Vasant Kunj. A year later, we lost touch. I've written it down here. If there's any chance this reaches him, I'm asking you to share it. As widely as you can. He deserves to read it.

There are people in your life you'd avoid if you could. You know exactly who I mean. For a long time, I did what most of us do. I showed up anyway. Kept the peace. Played the role. Of late, I've stopped doing that. If you've ever felt torn between who you are and what's expected of you — this one's for you.

There's a moment every parent dreads and secretly hopes for at the same time. The moment you realise your child has quietly outgrown your expectations. It happened to me this January, over breakfast, in a conversation I hadn't planned for.