Suresh Dinakaran's Blog

 

Preparation is a place to hide.

 

The ATM of the Bank of Perfection is always out of currency. We’re culturally programmed to calculate risk. What we’re not taught is how to calculate the cost of inaction. What is the price of the book unwritten? The business unlaunched? The love undeclared? The adventure untaken? These costs don’t show up on any balance sheet, but they accumulate in the currency of regret – the most painful form of emotional debt. So, get ready to Die Empty!

 

We’re a zeitgeist of overqualified, under-actualized dreamers. PhDs driving taxis not because they must, but because taking the leap feels more terrifying than staying put.

 

We all would remember when the late Ratan Tata(RIP) acquired Jaguar Land Rover in 2008? The global economy was having a proper meltdown. Financial experts were fashionably predicting apocalypse. And there’s Tata, casually dropping $2.3 billion on luxury car brands like it’s a Tuesday shopping spree. The audacity! The madness! The… sheer genius that transformed Tata Motors’ global footprint forever.

 

Life’s dashboard has no “certainty” gauge. Never has, never will. Yet we have perfected the art of waiting for the perfect moment – that mythical confluence of stellar alignments, family approvals, and financial security that would make even the gods say, “Damn, that’s some good timing.”

 

But here’s the dirty little secret the universe doesn’t advertise on its cosmic billboard: The perfect moment is whenever you decide to jump.

 

Every day you delay bringing your idea into action, you pay a tax—the “What If?” tax. What if you’d started that business in 2020? What if you’d invested in that idea? What if you’d asked that person out? The richest people in the world aren’t those with the most money—they’re those with the fewest regrets.

 

Ideas are aplenty but ideas without action are regrets.

 

Remember when Nike said “Just Do It”? Most of us replied, “Sure, right after I update my LinkedIn bio and align my chakras.” We are the ‘wait-for-the-right-time’ generation. Breaking news: “Right Time” (or ” Someday “) is a retired mythological creature who now lives with Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy.

 

It is not difficult to identify the real problem. We’ve become over thinkers, under doers. Risk-averse, over-prepared, permission-seeking approval junkies. We download courses, attend webinars, rewatch TED talks, read Atomic Habits, but refuse to light the atomic bomb of action. We confuse being “ready” with being “safe.” Truth? You’re never fully ready.
But you’re always one decision away from momentum.

I don’t mean to bring this train into the provocation station but sometimes we need to call a spade a shovel. So, some gut punches if you will please-

What brilliant idea have you been sitting on because your Canva presentation isn’t “ready”?

What masterpiece is dying inside your Notes app because you’re scared of trolls on LinkedIn?

How many years will you give to rehearsing while someone with half your talent and zero fear just ships it raw?

 

The evidence is everywhere. Sara Blakely (SPANX): No biz degree. No business plan. Just one butt-saving(pardon the pun) prototype and a gut feeling. She didn’t wait to “perfect” it. She went for it. Richard Branson: “Screw it, let’s do it.” His business model was often: jump first, plan during free fall. Airbnb: Three broke dudes renting out air mattresses during a design conference. Not scalable? Not fundable? Too weird? $100 billion valuation says otherwise.

 

Closer home in India- here’s some homegrown heat. Ritesh Agarwal (OYO): Dropped out, messed up, learned on the go, pivoted, scaled like wildfire. Not by waiting. By doing. Zerodha: Nithin Kamath ignored VCs and fancy jargon. He just went for it, building a product that traders actually wanted to use. Bira 91: When Ankur Jain launched it, India was already saturated with Kingfishers and Heinekens. But he saw the gap. Went for it. Now it’s India’s coolest hipster beer. While reinforcing what one calls in marketing ” the late mover advantage “.

 

There is no secret sauce. Or there is. I don’t know. But, some elementary stuff here- Motion beats meditation. Imperfect action beats perfect procrastination. Done is sexier than pending.

 

Because no one ever became legendary by being “almost” ready.
Or by Googling “Is now a good time to launch?” for the 374th time.

 

Success Is Not for the Prepared. It’s for the Recklessly Committed. Look at stand-up comics bombing on stage. Look at first-time founders burning cash and karma. Look at indie musicians uploading to Spotify from their bathrooms.

 

They’re not waiting. They’re shipping. They’re learning. They’re bleeding confidence and bandaging feedback. Meanwhile, you’re over here refreshing your inbox like a nervous intern.

 

Look at all these examples:- Was Zomato ready when it started with a PDF menu aggregator? Was Apple perfect when it launched the iPhone without copy-paste? Was Ranveer Singh ready for Bollywood? Dude just went for it, wardrobe and all. Unacademy: Roman Saini and his co-founders didn’t wait for permission to disrupt education. They started by uploading free tutorials on YouTube, and now millions of students are “going for it” every day. Patagonia: When they told customers “Don’t Buy This Jacket,” they weren’t just selling outerwear, they were selling a movement. Sometimes going for it means telling people to do the opposite of what you’re selling. Nike: “Just Do It” isn’t a tagline, it’s a philosophy. Nike sells the idea that greatness is a decision, not a birthright. (And let’s be real, most of us are more “couch potato” than athlete, but we buy the shoes anyway-because hope springs eternal.)

 

Perfection is procrastination in lipstick. Ship it. Flaws and all. The world needs messy courage. Go for it. Because hesitation is not a legacy. Comfort zones are where dreams go to die.

 

So, let’s drive home the truth. You weren’t born to rehearse. You weren’t born to ask for bloody permission. You weren’t born to die with 14 domain names, 37 unfinished Canva decks, and a “someday” side hustle that’s older than your LinkedIn password.

 

So, hear this loud and clear: Stop flirting with your potential and start making out with your possibilities.

 

Go for it. Even if you don’t have the map, the budget, or a goddamn clue.
Because hesitation is just ambition wearing anxiety as cologne.

 

The world doesn’t need another thinker. It needs more glorious, reckless, action-fueled DOERS. You are one idea away from your breakout moment — if only you’d stop treating your brilliance like it’s under NDAs and non-compete clauses.

 

No more marination. No more mood boards. No more “one day”. Today is that one day. So… just bloody GO FOR IT. If not now, when? If not you, who?

 

If not with me egging you on like a caffeinated coach in a headband… then who the hell else?

 

Reality is a stubborn beast—until you realize it’s just wet clay in your hands. Some see walls; others see scaffolding. Some see fate; others see a first draft. So, tell me—when was the last time you edited your life instead of just living it?

 

“Reality is negotiable.” Tim Ferriss said it. Most people nodded and went back to watching Netflix. But not you. Not today.

 

Because here’s the truth they didn’t teach you at school (or worse, at orientation training): Reality is not served to you on a plate. You gotta cook it yourself—with salt, spice, and a little sacrilege.

 

In the kitchen of life, while the world keeps obsessing over ‘reality checks’, the real game-changers are busy forging their own reality… Reality Cheques, if you will. The kind that clear at the Bank of Manifestation.

 

“The world as we have created it is a process of our thinking. It cannot be changed without changing our thinking.“ – Einstein wasn’t just dropping scientific wisdom, he was handing us the damn master key.

 

What if( and permit me this defining question)—and stay with me here—what if everything you’ve been told about “how life works” is simply someone else’s version of reality that you’ve inherited? Uncomfortable thought, isn’t it?

 

The Greeks had Prometheus stealing fire from the gods. The modern equivalent? Stealing back your right to define what’s possible.

 

If you are willing to NOT miss the wood for the trees, you will soon recognise that reality is actually a PR stunt. What we call “reality” is just the loudest lie repeated enough times until everyone puts it on a t-shirt. Lets examine a few cases in point. Steve Jobs: Took LSD, walked barefoot, dropped out, came back, dropped the iPhone, (and dropped the mic). Dhirubhai Ambani: Didn’t go to Harvard. He built one on Dalal Street. Beyoncé: Said “I woke up like this.” She didn’t. She engineered it.

 

“Be realistic” is code for “Please don’t disrupt my mediocrity.”And you, weren’t born to tiptoe through life in beige khakis hoping to avoid disapproval. You were born to punch holes through the simulation and plant your flag in the glitch. Remember Normal is just a setting on a Washing Machine. You tumble dry, spin dry or just rinse.

 

History’s greatest rebels didn’t just accept reality—they hacked it.
Look at India’s Dabbawalas: A lunchbox delivery system with the precision of a Swiss watch—built not by MBAs but by sheer jugaad and belief. No “rules” said they could do it. They just did. Elon Musk’s Mars Obsession:While skeptics muttered “impossible,” he sold flamethrowers to fund it. Because why not?

 

The great reality hoax is that most of us are living on autopilot, cruising down highways paved by someone else’s expectations. We react, we conform, we repeat. But what if you could slam the brakes, grab the wheel, and take the scenic route-preferably with the windows down and your favorite playlist blaring?

 

Look at a few global mavericks as fodder for inspiration. Nick Vujicic: Born without arms or legs, Nick could have let the world define his limits. Instead, he redefined what’s possible-becoming a global speaker, author, and founder of “Life Without Limbs.” His message? “You may have arms and legs, but unless you know who you are, your value, and your purpose, you’re more disabled than I am. Ritesh Agarwal (India): From selling SIM cards in Titlagarh to founding OYO Rooms, Ritesh saw a gap in India’s hospitality sector and filled it with relentless innovation. Dropping out of college, failing with his first startup, and facing skepticism, he forged ahead-turning rejection into rocket fuel. Malala Yousafzai: In Pakistan’s Swat Valley, Malala’s reality was dictated by the Taliban’s ban on girls’ education. A bullet to the head could have ended her story. Instead, she rewrote it-becoming a Nobel laureate and global icon for girls’ education. Her reality? One where a single voice can change the world. Sheryl Sandberg: From Harvard to the C-suite at Facebook, Sandberg didn’t just lean in-she bulldozed barriers, redefining what women in leadership look like. Her mantra? “Done is better than perfect”. A.R. Rahman: He didn’t follow Bollywood’s formula of dhinchak dhols and item numbers. He whispered spirituality into pop culture’s ears. He turned silence into sound. Soul into score. That’s not a pivot. That’s a parallel universe.

 

Reality is a Group Chat. You can leave it whenever you want.

 

Life’s not about finding yourself—it’s about inventing yourself and sending the universe the invoice. In a world of obedient sheep bleating down predetermined paths, the true badasses are those who grab reality by the throat and bend it to their will. Not through kumbaya manifestation circles or Instagram affirmations, but through the ruthless alchemy of audacious thinking and middle-finger-to-convention action.

 

Your brain is the most expensive real estate on your personal planet. Evict the tenants who aren’t paying premium rent—those fear-mongering news channels, dream-killing “friends,” and self-improvement gurus selling recycled mediocrity in fancy packaging. Detox your mental diet as if its radioactive.

 

That voice in your head better be your hype person, not your prison warden. If it wouldn’t talk to your best friend that way, put it on probation. Then fire it. Then hire a replacement that doesn’t confuse caution with wisdom. In effect, put your inner voice on performance review.

 

Successful reality hackers don’t avoid discomfort—they chase it like it’s happy hour at their favorite bar. Russians have their ice baths, entrepreneurs have cold calls, artists have blank canvases. Find your flavor of terrifying and make it your morning coffee. In summary, make discomfort your favorite cocktail. 

 

Living inside someone else’s mental prison, decorating the walls with motivational posters while calling it freedom. Playing by rules designed specifically to keep you docile, predictable, and conveniently manageable. That’s not living—that’s sleepwalking with better production values.

 

The dirtiest secret? Reality crafting doesn’t require genius-level IQ, rich parents, or some mystical alignment of cosmic forces. It requires something both simpler and more rare: the audacity to start before you feel ready, qualified, or socially approved.

 

A graffiti artist in Barcelona spray-painted it perfectly on an abandoned factory wall: “Your reality shifts the moment you stop asking ‘Can I?’ and start declaring ‘Watch me.'”

 

So do it. Today. Not with grand proclamations, but with seditious questions that make your current reality squirm: Why not me? Says who? What if everyone’s wrong?

 

Because here’s the deliciously subversive truth that reality outlaws everywhere have discovered: The edges of your possible reality aren’t determined by facts—they’re determined by which facts you’re brave enough to question.

 

Reality is a suggestion, not a law. Break it. Reality is customizable. The only limit? Your willingness to piss off the status quo.

 

So, are you ready to grab the hammer? The world may hand you raw iron, but it’s up to you to shape it into something legendary. Forge ahead-your reality is waiting. “In the end, the only thing standing between you and the life you want is the story you keep telling yourself. Time to change the narrative.”

 

Now, go on-light that forge.

Gray Hair, Golden Wallets: The Trillion-Dollar Opportunity Marketers Keep Missing. Who are the Baby Boomers? And Why Should You Care?

 

Born between 1946 and 1964, Boomers are now aged 60–78. That’s not “retired and done.” That’s liberated from college fees, climbing Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs pyramid with full wallets and free time. They’re not in the nursing home. They’re on a luxury cruise. With Wi-Fi.

 

In the U.S., they control 70% of disposable income. In India, they’re the patriarchs and matriarchs funding your EMI, gifting you Diwali iPhones, and still deciding which car the family buys.

 

And yet, if marketing today were a high school party, Boomers are the wealthy alumni who showed up with the best snacks, and everyone’s ignoring them.

 

Picture this: A demographic with more disposable income than millennials and Gen Z combined, brand loyalty that borders on religious fervor, and an insatiable appetite for experiences. Yet, marketers are so busy chasing TikTok trends and Gen Alpha’s shrinking attention spans that they’ve left billions on the table.

 

Ladies and gentlemen, meet the Baby Boomers—the most overlooked, undervalued, and misunderstood consumer cohort in modern marketing.

 

So, would it be safe to conclude that our dear marketer, you are ageist?. Yup, probably. You use the word “Boomer” like it’s a synonym for “boring”, “slow”, or worse, “irrelevant”. Meanwhile, they’re climbing Kilimanjaro, learning French on Duolingo, and sending memes before you do.

 

So, shall we call it what it is? Marketing Malpractice?

 

Quick marketing pop quiz: What demographic has 78 trillion dollars, buys 50% of luxury goods, and gets 0.5% of your ad budget? If you said ‘Boomers,’ congratulations – you’re smarter than 90% of CMOs today.

 

You’re not just missing the boat. You’re letting the Titanic sail past with your ad dollars clinging to an iceberg called TikTok. Let’s do a quick back of the envelope audit, shall we?

 

In the Indian context, brand Tanishq figured it out. Their elder couple campaigns hit emotions harder than a Karan Johar plot twist. LIC, bless them, was always Boomer-centric (because nothing says love like life insurance). But I am keen to understand where’s the travel brand talking to 60+ solo travellers? Where’s the fashion label owning “Grey is the New Black”?

 

Globally, L’Oréal Paris got it. They cast Helen Mirren—not as grandma, but as goddess. ETrade’s Super Bowl ad featured older folks kicking ass at life. Airbnb quietly discovered older hosts and travellers are their highest-rated users.

 

And yet… Most brands treat Boomers like expired yogurt. Best before used.

 

Brands today are drunk on the Kool-Aid of youth marketing. From D2C brands obsessing over Instagram Reels to legacy players awkwardly dabbling in meme culture, everyone’s pandering to a generation that’s broke, skeptical, and allergic to traditional advertising.

Meanwhile, Boomers are sitting on $78 trillion in global wealth (yes, trillion with a ‘T’) and are ready to spend—on travel, healthcare, luxury, and yes, even tech.

 

Someone has to address the youth obsession epidemic. The earlier the better for brands and marketers.

 

The uncomfortable truth is that the modern, caffeinated, trend-chasing marketer—are so busy marketing to Gen Z’s dopamine-deficient attention spans and Millennials’ mortgage-crushed wallets that they have completely ghosted the most monied, brand-loyal, spending-happy generation of all: Baby Boomers.

 

Yeah, the ones they think are still trying to figure out how to “send WhatsApp.” Spoiler: they just bought a Tesla. And another spoiler: They still have the cheque book, even if you’ve moved on to crypto.

 

So, dear marketer, you’re ghosting the generation with the gold. Everyone’s chasing Gen Z vibes. Meanwhile, Boomers are buying villas, Teslas, and turmeric lattes. And you’re selling them… nothing.

 

Let’s try to understand the baby boomer opportunity a little better. Their mood is not about ‘ retired ‘ but rewired. At a global level, their spend control is 70% of disposable income. In India, they are running the family biz AND (the family WhatsApp group).

 

And yet...only 10% of ad budgets go to people over 50. Even though they spend 50% of the world’s money. You’re selling skinny jeans to broke kids and ignoring the people buying BMWs.

 

So, let’s get real. Boomers aren’t asking to feel young again. They just want to be seen, heard, and sold to—without being patronized. It’s like ignoring the wealthiest person at an auction because you’re too busy chatting up someone who just wandered in to escape the rain.

 

The invisibility paradox is astounding. Walk through any marketing conference and count how many times you hear “Gen Z” versus “Boomers.” The imbalance is staggering. The industry has developed what I call “youth myopia”—a condition where marketers can only see people under 40. And yet: In India, adults over 55 control approximately 70% of the country’s disposable income. In the US, Boomers control over $70 trillion in wealth. Globally, the silver economy is projected to reach $15 trillion by 2030.

 

This isn’t just money—it’s money in the hands of people who actually spend it, unlike younger generations struggling with student loans and unaffordable housing.

 

As my grandmother used to say when I’d ignore her advice: “Beta, when you’re done making mistakes, I’ll still be here with the solution.”

 

Millennials didn’t invent “experiences over things.” Boomers were backpacking across Europe before Instagram existed.  So your experience economy was literally invented by boomers.

 

The real comedy is that we’ve convinced ourselves that Boomers are digital dinosaurs, technologically inept relics who can’t navigate beyond Facebook.

 

But the reality check is that in India, smartphone adoption among 55+ grew at 29% annually since 2020—faster than any other demographic. Globally, 82% of Baby Boomers belong to at least one social media platform, and 70% shop online regularly.

 

Tata Cliq Luxury recognized this and launched their “Timeless Indulgence” campaign specifically targeting affluent older Indians with premium products. The result? A 43% increase in high-value purchases from this demographic.

 

Meanwhile, most Indian marketers are still creating “senior citizen specials”—as if discounting is the only way to appeal to people with the highest disposable income in the country. It’s like offering a student discount to Warren Buffett.

 

One straight from the hip advise (unsolicited of course) that I have to offer is : please address the authenticity crisis. The rare campaign that does target Boomers typically falls into one of two cringe-worthy categories:

-“You’re old and need help” (featuring gray-haired models looking confused by technology)…

-“You’re not really old!” (featuring impossibly fit 60-somethings skydiving)

Both miss the mark spectacularly because they lack one crucial element: authenticity.

 

The magnificent irony is that the creative directors and marketing executives making these decisions to focus exclusively on youth are often Boomers themselves! They’ve so deeply internalized the industry’s ageism that they’re excluding their own demographic from marketing strategies.

 

It’s like being the bouncer who won’t let himself into the club.

 

Here’s what my take on the innovation blindspot that marketers generally seem to be having. Because, here’s where it gets truly absurd: we’ve convinced ourselves that innovation is only for the young, despite evidence to the contrary.

 

Airbnb reports that their fastest-growing host demographic is 60+. The fastest-growing segment on dating apps? You guessed it—Boomers.

 

In India, brands like BigBasket recognized this opportunity early, creating specific user experiences designed for older adults who have substantial grocery budgets. Their “BB Assist” feature, which helps customers navigate the platform through voice commands, wasn’t created for tech-savvy millennials—it was designed for Boomers who appreciate convenience but might need navigation assistance. The result? Over 30% of BigBasket’s premium customers are now 55+.

 

The way forward could just be this- the brands that will win the future aren’t necessarily those obsessing over Generation Alpha. They’ll be the ones smart enough to follow the money—and the money is silver-haired. That is where brands and marketers should ideally engage in their Gold Rush.

 

If you permit me a bit of do’s and don’ts here: Representation matters: Feature boomers in your marketing without making their age the punchline. Design inclusively: Create products and experiences that recognize physical changes that come with age without making them feel “medical.” Acknowledge expertise: Baby Boomers have decades of consumer experience. They can spot inauthentic marketing from kilometers away. Forget the stereotypes: The generation that invented rock ‘n’ roll and led cultural revolutions isn’t sitting quietly in rocking chairs.

 

They survived Cold Wars, recessions, and the dial-up era. And you think they can’t handle an online checkout page? Ignoring Boomers in your marketing is like hosting a party and forgetting to invite the people who brought the booze. You’re selling FOMO to people who invented YOLO — and wondering why sales suck. Boomers lived through the Beatles, moon landings, and Black Monday.

 

The greatest wealth transfer in history is happening, and your marketing strategy is still chasing allowance money? 

 

The time had come long ago. For brand owners and marketers. To look beyond Mars and Venus. And smell the Planet Reality.

 

Here’s some numbo jumbo(read shocking reality):-

 

• Women in India influence 85% of household purchases.
• Women now account for 30% of luxury car sales in metros.
• Female gamers are over 40% of India’s mobile gaming market.
• Women-founded startups in India grew by 77% over the last five years.
• And yes, they’re on Tinder and trading crypto. Deal with it.

 

And how are they treated in return by the smart marketing mavericks. Take a look below.Brands continue to serve:

 

• Patronizing pink packaging.
• Slo-mo hair flicks in unrealistic lighting.
• “Empowerment” ads that peak at menstruation or motherhood.

 

There are many reasons why marketers are still getting it horribly wrong; chief among them being Male-centric marketing departments where Ramesh, Rehman or Roger are the decision-making dudes who put together campaigns that sound like “Let’s add a pink ribbon and call it ‘female-focused’!”. We are in new age times but still grappling with Old-School Gender Tropes where the belief is women are “emotional” shoppers while men are “rational” – this is not just outdated, it’s plain lazy. A certain ailment called Data Blindness– the data is out there. We just choose to mansplain it instead of understanding it.

 

So, here’s a personal memo:-

 

Dear marketers: She’s not just a “niche.” She’s not your “segment.” She IS the economy. She’s the category killer, the cart-filler, the loyalty-builder, and the one who’s keeping your brand alive while your bros in branding still think ‘shrink it and pink it’ is a campaign strategy.

 

I will attempt to decipher it by desi-fying it a bit. The problematic portrayals in Incredible India. Here’s what ads here(most of it at least) still believe:-A woman buys a car only after her husband nods(Meanwhile she’s paying EMI on his bike, her dad’s surgery, and her startup’s seed round). She’s either sanskaari or sexy. Never smart. As if intellect’s a limited-edition Rakhi Sawant NFT. Her role in insurance ads? Crying beside the hospital bed or smiling while baking. Fact: She’s the one researching policies at 1 a.m. on PolicyBazaar while you’re bingeing IPL highlights.

 

Here’s the reality check served Sahara desert hot. Globally, 80% of purchase decisions on an average are made by women. Cutting across all consumer purchases, home furnishings, vacations, new homes, consumer electronics, cars, healthcare, opening new bank accounts etc etc. It goes on and on and on.

 

Here’s the Red Alert for Brand Owners and Marketers: Women control $31 trillion in global spending power, yet brands still treat them like delicate flowers who only care about pastel colors and calorie counts.Women are too busy running companies, households, and your bottom line to give a damn about your “shrink it & pink it” nonsense.

 

Women in India are buying homes, stocks, gold, gadgets, and yes — gaming chairs. Women in Tier 2/3 cities are driving digital commerce like absolute queens. She doesn’t need a man to swipe the card. She is the card. The black one. With lounge access. But what do we keep giving her? Perfume ads shot like bad erotica. Cringe empowerment tropes where “freedom” is…wearing jeans at a wedding.

 

So, for heaven’s sake marketers, quit the victim saviour narrative– because she’s not waiting to be rescued. She’s wondering why your brand is still stuck in 2003. Talk to her like a decision-maker, not a product accessorizer. Make her laugh, think, feel, not just nod at stereotypes. Sell her value, not validation. Women like navy, black, chrome, blood-red, or no colour at all. So, stop Pinkwashing everything. They’re here for features, not frou-frou.

 

They’re done being marketed at—they want to be spoken with.

 

Here’s a sobering fact to wash down with your lime juice(or whiskey): only 3% of India’s creative directors are women. Globally, it’s a pathetic 11%. So we’ve got rooms full of men trying to market to women—like a bunch of cats designing a dog collar. They know it goes around the neck, but they’ve missed pretty much everything else.

 

Some brands have gotten it right:

 

Ariel’s “Share The Load” campaign didn’t just sell detergent; it sold a cultural revolution wrapped in a 30-second spot. It asked why laundry was considered “women’s work” in a country where gender roles are often set in stone. The result? Sales shot up 60%, and Indian men briefly considered touching washing machines before going back to asking their wives where their socks were.

 

Tanishq’s remarriage ad showed a dusky-skinned mother getting remarried—hitting the trifecta of Indian taboos: divorce, remarriage, and not being fair-skinned. Conservative uncles nearly had aneurysms, but progressive women opened their wallets. Tanishq stood their ground while competitors were still debating if married women should be allowed to wear anything other than sindoor and submission.

 

Nike stopped treating women’s sports as the appetizer before the “real” men’s main course. Instead of focusing on looking cute while pretending to exercise (standard approach), they celebrated female athletes who could probably bench press the entire marketing team that created “Pens for Her.” Their women’s business consequently exploded from $7 billion to $9.7 billion faster than you can say “patriarchy.”

 

Marketing to women isn’t about slapping a feminine hygiene product aesthetic on everything. It’s about recognizing that women are complete human beings whose interests range from quantum physics to reality TV, sometimes within the same hour. Brands that get this aren’t just being woke—they’re being wealthy. Because there’s nothing more profitable than actually understanding the people who control most of the world’s purchasing decisions.

 

It’s time to stop leaving trillions on the table because you can’t be bothered to see beyond stereotypes. The brands that master this aren’t just going to win the future—they’re going to own it. The rest can enjoy their place in the marketing hall of shame, right next to “Pens for Her” and every fairness cream ad ever made.

 

“Women hold up half the sky,“ goes the old Chinese proverb. In reality, they’re juggling the sky, the earth, and everything in between while marketers are still debating if they should make the packaging pink or purple. Talk about missing the plot. So, wake up. To Planet Reality!

 

Mad Men was right—it’s not about the product, it’s about the poetry. And if your brand’s love language is ‘10% off,’ you’re basically the Tinder swipe-left of your industry.

 

So, why are some brands Taylor Swift-level adored while others are just… there, like that one uncle who still forwards WhatsApp good morning messages?  Simple. One speaks to the heart. The other sounds like a terms-and-conditions pamphlet.

 

Let’s cut the corporate fluff, shall we? Your “rational consumer” personality is mostly a lie you tell yourself. While you’re busy justifying your premium coffee purchase with logical arguments about flavor profiles and fair trade certifications, the truth is simpler: that cup makes you feel like the sophisticated urban professional you aspire to be.

 

UFP(Unique Feelings Proposition)>USP(Unique Selling Proposition).

 

Welcome to the era where brands don’t just sell products—they sell feelings, memories, and sometimes, even an identity. If your brand isn’t giving customers goosebumps, FOMO, or an inexplicable urge to hit ‘Add to Cart,’ you’re just another logo in the graveyard of forgettable commerce.

Let’s talk State of the Heart Branding—where emotional alchemy turns casual buyers into cult followers.

 

People don’t buy what you do; they buy why you do it.” – Simon Sinek (who clearly knew a thing or two about heart-to-heart branding before it was cool).

 

And brands? They’re not just selling products anymore. They’re selling emotional season tickets to experiences that trigger something primal within us. Something that bypasses the logical brain faster than a politician dodges a direct question.

Think about it – you don’t buy a Royal Enfield because it’s the most fuel-efficient or technically advanced motorcycle. You buy it because somewhere in your brain, you’re already picturing yourself cruising down the highways of Ladakh with the wind in your beard (even if you work in IT and your longest journey is your daily commute to Whitefield). That’s not marketing; that’s emotional sorcery at its finest.

 

The vocabulary has changed. ROI is not what you and me have been used to. ROI is Return on Intimacy.

 

Apple doesn’t sell phones; they sell membership in a tribe of “creative rebels” (who somehow all look remarkably similar while insisting they’re unique). Harley-Davidson doesn’t sell motorcycles; they sell middle-aged accountants weekend tickets to feeling badass. (Nothing says “I’m rebelling against society” quite like a ₹15 lakh purchase approved by your financial advisor.). Zomato doesn’t just deliver food; they deliver guilt-free convenience with a side of witty notifications that make you feel like you’re texting with a friend, not an app. Their social media team roasts customers with the precision of a Punjabi auntie evaluating marriage prospects. Nike doesn’t sell shoes; they sell the promise that there’s an athlete inside you (hiding very deep inside, for most of us). Coca-Cola doesn’t sell sugary water; they sell happiness in a bottle (though your pancreas might disagree).

 

Meanwhile, closer home, Paper Boat isn’t selling drinks; they’re bottling nostalgia. Each sip of Aam Panna is a time machine back to summer holidays at your grandmother’s house. That’s not product differentiation—that’s emotional sorcery. Parle-G isn’t selling biscuits; they’re selling a childhood ritual that survived the invasion of Oreos and pretentious imported cookies. Asian Paints doesn’t sell wall colors; they sell the emotional journey of creating a home. “Har ghar kuch kehta hai” isn’t about paint; it’s about the stories your living space tells about you. Bajaj transformed from “Hamara Bajaj” (our Bajaj) to “The World’s Favourite Indian” – shifting from national pride to global ambition while keeping the emotional connection intact.

 

Before you dismiss this as touchy-feely nonsense, let’s get neurological for a moment. Studies show that people with damage to emotional centers of their brains cannot make decisions despite intact logical reasoning. Why? Because without emotional valuation, every option looks the same.

 

Your customers are no different. In a world of product parity, where ten brands offer essentially the same features, emotions become the tiebreaker. The brand that makes you feel seen, understood, or aspirational wins the wallet vote.

 

Disney doesn’t sell cartoons; it sells “Happily Ever After”nostalgia.

 

So, much as we would all want to disagree, there is a science behind the feels.

 

The old model was simple: create awareness, build consideration, drive purchase. Rinse, repeat, retire with a golden watch.

 

Today’s playbook is messier but more rewarding: create belonging, foster identity, build community, enable transformation. Suddenly you’re not selling a product; you’re offering membership in a movement.

 

Look at CRED. They could have positioned as “a credit card bill payment app.” Logical, clear, boring as watching paint dry. Instead, they built an exclusive club where “paying bills” became “proving you are financially responsible enough to join our premium community.” They transformed a mundane financial chore into a status symbol.

 

The needle has moved: from transactional to transformational. And that is the new brand playbook as well.

 

The masters of emotional marketing make it look effortless. Amul doesn’t just comment on current events; they make us smile about them through their utterly delicious (see what I did there?) topical cartoons. For 50+ years, they’ve maintained the same visual identity while staying culturally relevant – the marketing equivalent of a chameleon that never changes its shape. Spotify Wrapped transformed usage data into personal storytelling, making customers voluntarily market the service by sharing their music preferences. That’s not just smart; that’s emotional jiujitsu. Fevicol built decades of brand equity through humorous ads focusing on its emotional benefit (unbreakable bonds) rather than the chemical composition of adhesive (which, let’s be honest, would cure insomnia faster than melatonin).

 

These brands understand that in a world drowning in information but starving for meaning, emotional resonance cuts through the noise like a hot knife through malai paneer.

 

For inspiration, look at these emotional marketing masterstrokes: Surf Excel’s “Daag Acche Hain” campaign flipped the entire category narrative by associating stains with good parenting and childhood development. Cadbury’s iconic “Kuch Meetha Ho Jaaye” transformed chocolate from an occasional indulgence to a celebration ritual for everyday Indian moments. Brooke Bond Red Label’s “Taste of Togetherness” campaigns tackle social issues from transgender acceptance to elderly loneliness – making tea a symbol of social cohesion, not just a beverage. Dove’s Real Beauty campaign globally created an emotional platform so powerful that people forget they’re essentially selling soap.

 

Remember: in a world where most products are interchangeable, brands that forge emotional connections create impenetrable competitive moats. While features can be copied overnight, emotional bonds take years to build—and to break.

 

As the marketing sage Seth Godin puts it: “People don’t buy goods and services. They buy relations, stories, and magic.”

 

So stop counting your impressions and start measuring your imprints—on hearts, not just minds. Your CTR matters less than your ETR (Emotional Transfer Rate).

 

Because in the state of the heart branding, your emotional bank account ultimately determines your financial one. And unlike your cryptocurrency investments, this is one value that doesn’t crash overnight.

 

Patagonia telling customers “Don’t Buy This Jacket“was a masterstroke in anti-consumerist credibility. The brand proudly wields the megaphone on authenticity or bust.

 

In the Indian context, emotion is our native language. We’re a country where: “Mummy ke haath ka khaana” beats Michelin stars.  “Washing Powder Nirma” jingle still plays rent-free in our heads. “Thanda matlab Coca-Cola“made a cold drink feel like a family reunion. Mere paas maa hai” (from the film Deewar) still makes grown men weep. “Wah Taj!”isn’t just a tagline—it’s a national reflex. Tata Tea’s “Jaago Re“Sold chai + social change before woke was a marketing trend.

 

Brands that get India don’t just speak Hindi—they speak heart.

 

There are brands that have missed the emotional branding memo. Look at any bank that says in their ads ” We care ” and goes onto charge INR 500 for an EMI missed.

 

The Best Brands Don’t Sell—They Seduce. In a world of ad-blockers and subscription fatigue, the only brands that survive are the ones that make people feel something .  So ask yourself: Is your brand a vending machine… or a Valentine?  

 

Because let’s be real—nobody ever tattooed a discount coupon on their arm.

 

State of the Heart Branding doesn’t ask:“What does your product do?”
It asks: “What does your customer become by buying you?”

 

In closing, here’s the brand heart check up drill:-

 

Sell the feeling, not the function. Nobody buys a drill for a hole. They buy it to hang a memory.

 

Be emotionally promiscuous. Make people laugh, cry, nod, rage, remember.
If they feel nothing, they owe you nothing.

 

Don’t say it. Let them feel it. “Just Do It” is not an instruction. It’s a movement.

 

Design for desire, not demographics. Age, income, location? Meh.
How they want to feel? That’s the goldmine.

 

Your story is not the hero. Your customer’s transformation is. Make them the Shah Rukh. You just be the Yash Chopra behind the camera.

 

The uncomfortable truth is that most of us  do our best work when backed against a wall.

 

A resource famine is the bedrock of innovation. The greatest innovations in history came from people saying “We’ll have to make do” not “Let me check if there’s an app for that.” Case in point is the entire punk rock movement which was built on three chords and a middle finger to polished production. Compare that to today’s bedroom producers with infinite plugins who never finish a track.

 

Its ironical but it works:You know what kills creativity faster than your boss’s Monday morning Zoom voice? Unlimited time. Unlimited budget. Unlimited options. Too much of a good thing is…well, a lazy thing. But put a loaded gun to the head (metaphorically, of course), cut the time in half, steal the fancy tools, remove three team members, and BAM!
You’re suddenly Picasso with a paper napkin.

 

Remember college projects that took two months to “ideate” and 48 hours to actually finish? Exactly. You did in 2 days what you swore couldn’t be done in 60. Turns out, urgency is a better muse than “someday.” Deadlines don’t just kill procrastination. They whisper to your brain “Make it simple. Make it snappy. Make it now.” Shorter deadlines infuse sharper thinking. Period.

 

Ask any filmmaker about their first indie film. No drones. No VFX. No 78-member crew. Just duct tape, passion, and a stolen location. Result?
Raw. Real. Remarkable. (And sometimes Oscar-nominated.) Steve Jobs banned buttons. Twitter banned long sentences. IKEA banned normal furniture. Constraints force innovation. Fewer tools. Fewer distractions.More Magic.

 

Focus isn’t found. It’s forced by friction.

 

Some examples that stand out like an ice bucket bath include Twitter’s 280 character limit. Only to make it the birthplace of wit, sarcasm and political meltdowns. “Jaws” shark malfunction: Steven Spielberg had to imply terror instead of showing it. Result? One of the most suspenseful films ever. Ernest Hemingway wrote: “For Sale: Baby shoes. Never worn.”Six words. Gut-punch. Masterclass. Instagram Reels: You had 15–30 seconds. Not enough time to fake it—just enough to say something real.

 

Constraints kill perfectionism. And perfectionism kills everything.

 

Here’s a killer truth that we may not get to hear at a TEDx or Keynote. Unlimited time? Kills urgency. Unlimited tools? Kills imagination. Unlimited choices? Kills action. Want to make something frigging brilliant?
Tie one hand behind your back. Set your hair on fire.Then go build a castle with paper clips and spite.

 

Nothing sharpens focus like mild existential panic. Constraints force your brain to stop daydreaming and start doing. You don’t “ideate.” You execute.
Like a hungry assassin. With WiFi.

 

Michelangelo didn’t have Adobe. Da Vinci didn’t have ChatGPT (though he’d have abused it). And Jaws became iconic because the mechanical shark was so crap, Spielberg barely showed it. Necessity isn’t the mother of invention.
Lack-of-anything is. No budget? No time? No team? Perfect.
Welcome to the club where genius is forged in constraint-induced chaos.

 

Too much freedom is a black hole. Ever been to a buffet and left hungry? Yep. That’s what happens when you have too many options and no clarity. Creativity doesn’t need a runway.It needs a bloody cliff. The tighter the brief, the crisper the idea. The tighter the timeline, the faster you kill fluff.

 

We all are used to thinking that freedom was having unlimited options. Infinite time. Boundless resources. The whole enchilada with extra guacamole. Boy, are we spectacularly wrong!

 

 

At ISD Global whenever there is a project where the client said, “Do whatever you want, we trust you completely”? That was the one that paralyzed us for weeks. Yet give us a ridiculous deadline, a tight budget, and specific requirements, and suddenly we are working with the focus of a leopard stalking its dinner.

 

There’s actually profound science behind this. Psychologists call it the “paradox of choice” – when faced with too many options, we freeze up. Our brains evolved to make quick decisions with limited information, not to navigate infinite possibilities. Paradox of choice is also a seminal book by American psychologist Barry Schwartz.

 

Boundaries don’t block brilliance—they build it.

 

So here’s the beautiful irony: true creative freedom doesn’t come from limitless options. It comes from the focusing power of thoughtful constraints. Ernest Hemingway wrote some of his most powerful work using only short, simple sentences—a constraint he imposed on himself. Legendary photographer Henri Cartier-Bresson often used just one camera and one 50mm lens for decades, eliminating the distraction of equipment choices. Apple became the world’s most valuable company partly by offering fewer product options than competitors.

 

So, if you’ve ever cursed a tight deadline, a shoestring budget, or a restrictive brief, here’s why you should be thanking them instead.

 

Parkinson’s Law states: “Work expands to fill the time available.”Give yourself a week for a task, and it’ll take a week. Give yourself two hours? Somehow, you’ll make it happen.

 

When Picasso restricted himself to only shades of blue, he didn’t just paint—he revolutionized art. Constraints force us to dig deeper into what we do have instead of endlessly searching for more. Picasso’s Blue Period is a Masterclass in Limitation.

 

McDonald’s didn’t become a global empire by offering 100-item menus. They nailed one thing (fast, consistent burgers) and scaled it relentlessly. You might know about The “Microwave Instruction Manual”challenge: Engineers were asked to design a simpler microwave. The winning solution? A single button that just said “Start.”(Because let’s be honest—who actually uses the “Potato” setting?) . Instead of chasing endless possibilities, ask: “What’s the ONE thing this project absolutely needs?”Then do that brilliantly.

 

Picasso didn’t need 500 brushes. Hemingway didn’t need a thesaurus. And you? You don’t need that bloated software suite or that endless list of “productivity hacks.” Instagram blew up because it was stupidly simple. One filter. Square photos. No ads, no algorithms, no bullshit. Then? Feature creep turned it into a Franken-app.

 

Strip it down. Ruthlessly. Your creativity doesn’t live in your options—it thrives in your limitations.

 

Here’s a Cold Hard Fact: NASA’s Apollo 13 engineers had one frigging day to invent a CO2 scrubber from duct tape and socks. Your “impossible” client request? Please. Schedule your own execution dates. If the project doesn’t feel slightly impossible, you’re not pushing hard enough.

 

The Mona Lisa was painted with about 5 colors. Your palette has 16 million. Who’s the real artist here?

 

Here’s my last word: Creativity isn’t born in five-star brainstorming sessions with scented candles and vegan snacks. It’s born when you’re broke, cornered, under caffeinated, and two hours from disaster. You don’t rise despite the limits. You rise because of them.

 

So next time life throws you a constraint, don’t whine. Light a match.
And burn a goddamn masterpiece into the wall.

 

 

 

Dear Food Tech Unicorn Founders including but not restricted to Deepinder Goyal | Albinder Dhindsa | Saurabh Kumar | Sriharsha Majety | Hari Menon |  Aadit Palicha | Kalviya Vohra among others from Zomato | Swiggy |Zepto | Blinkit | Big Basket etc:

 

FAST. FURIOUS. FATAL?– A Love Letter to Our Unicorns on Two Wheels

 

 You brilliant minds who’ve revolutionized how India eats and shops – I’m in awe of your business acumen. Truly. And I’m grateful. The convenience economy you’ve built has transformed our lives in ways we couldn’t imagine a decade ago.

 

We see them everywhere. Those colorful troops of delivery warriors zigzagging through traffic like their smartphones contain the nuclear codes? I have. Daily. And let me tell you – it’s not just food they’re delivering; it’s a masterclass in creative traffic violations!

 

Yesterday, as I stood at a signal, I witnessed what can only be described as the “Delivery Olympics” – a Zomato rider slaloming between cars, a Swiggy compatriot treating the footpath as his personal expressway, and a Blinkit superhero who apparently believed red lights were merely festive decorations. The prize? A few minutes saved. The potential cost? Immeasurable.

 

But here’s my question, served hot and straight from the heart: Does the future of convenience need to be written in traffic violations and emergency room visits?

 

When your riders zip through neighborhoods without helmets, when they treat one-ways as suggestions rather than rules, when they view pedestrians as mobile obstacles in their delivery video game – we have to ask if the 10-minute delivery promise is worth its human cost.

 

We’ve become a society that can’t wait 15 minutes for food that took 30 minutes to prepare. We need our groceries NOW. We want our coffee YESTERDAY. And in this race to satisfy our impatience, your riders are being pushed to perform delivery miracles.

 

But here’s the uncomfortable truth: There are no miracles in traffic. There are only physics, vulnerability, and consequences.

 

When your rider zips past my car on the wrong side of the road, helmet-less with one hand on the handlebar and eyes on the GPS, I don’t see efficiency. I see someone’s son, someone’s brother, someone’s provider – taking risks that no meal or grocery delivery justifies. Does convenience have to come with collateral damage?

 

I am sure we can all see the irony of Customer First. You obsess over NPS, retention, and “delight metrics.” But what about the Safety NPS? The “please don’t die for my biryani“ metric?

 

Fact Is: A rider’s life > a 4.9-star delivery rating.

 

Some obvious red flags to look at here(both literally & figuratively):-

 

–No Helmets? Bro, even Tom Cruise wears one in Top Gun. Your riders aren’t Maverick—they’re humans with families.

–Jumping Signals? If red = green, maybe we should just let traffic lights “pivot“ into disco balls.

–Footpath Grand Prix? Pedestrians didn’t sign up for obstacle racing.

–Wrong-Side Driving? Newton’s third law: Every wrong-side rider will meet an angry biker head-on.

 

We love your apps. We love the dopamine hit of Maggi in 10 minutes. We love the convenience of hot food, cold beer, ice cream, condoms, and cornflakes—delivered faster than you can say “30 under 30.”

 

But here’s what we don’t love: Your delivery warriors—bless their hustle—riding like Vin Diesel in Fast & the Flouting Laws, part 97.

 

Red light? Just a suggestion.

Helmet? Optional fashion accessory.

Wrong side? Shortcut to productivity.

Footpath? Who needs pedestrians when you have a target to meet?

 

Every order comes with a free topping of adrenaline and a side of chaos. Are we trying to beat time, or beat death?

 

Let’s call it out: This is not “disruption.” This is destruction, dressed in algorithmic urgency.

 

Unicorns, here’s a thought.

You’ve built some of the most scalable, investable, headline-worthy businesses in the country.

But when did safety stop being part of the business model?

 

No OKR, no VC deck, no tech stack justifies a 19-year-old risking his spinal cord so I can get my chai latte before my Zoom call.

 

This is not logistics. It’s live-sticks—and they’re breaking.

 

Now don’t get me wrong—I’m not here to cancel convenience. I’m not the president of the “Bring Back the Dabbawalas” association. I’m just asking for a version update to your mission statements.

 

One that reads:

“Delighting Customers. Not Endangering Riders. And Other Lives”.

 

Imagine this:

–Helmets that are non-negotiable, not photo-ops.

-Delivery timelines that are realistic, not romanticised in pitch decks.

-Riders trained not just in swiping QR codes but also in respecting lanes and lives.

 

How about turning “10-minute delivery” into “10/10 empathy”? Can we be fast without being fatal?

 

To all the unicorn owners reading this—and I hope you are, if your LinkedIn filters include the word “impact”—you have the power to redefine hustle.

 

Because here’s the inconvenient truth: We are building the future of convenience on the broken bones of gig workers.

 

Let’s pivot. Let’s disrupt the idea that danger = delight.

 

After all, what’s the point of delivering biryani in 9 minutes if one can’t deliver basic human decency at all?

 

Let’s unbundle the madness.

Let’s decelerate the damage.

Let’s build unicorns that don’t leave behind hoof prints on highways.

 

And hey, we can do it with humor, grace, and better APIs.

 

I’ll still order from your apps.

 

And to us, the consumers feeding this beast with our impatience – perhaps we need to ask ourselves some questions too if we can make a strategic retreat from being a consumer to being a human:

 

-Is it worth risking someone’s life to get our paneer tikka 5 minutes faster?

-Can we bear to wait 20 minutes instead of 10 for our groceries if it means safer roads for everyone?

-What responsibility do we bear in this ecosystem of urgency?

 

Our convenience shouldn’t come at the cost of someone else’s safety. And unicorns: You didn’t just build companies—you built habits, expectations, and an entire ecosystem of urgency. Now, it’s time to build safety into the algorithm.

 

And if you permit me a bit of a stretch, here are some thoughts(say masala) for your next boardroom discussion:-

 

–Tech That Cares: GPS alerts for wrong-side riding, speed governors, mandatory helmet selfies.

 

–Incentivize Safety: Reward riders for safe deliveries, not just fast ones.

 

–Traffic Rule Bootcamps: Because knowing the difference between “No Entry” and “Challenge Accepted“ matters.

 

–Customer Education: Maybe a pop-up—“Your pizza can wait. Your rider’s life can’t”.

 

This isn’t a rant—it’s a reluctant love letter. I admire what you’ve built. But greatness isn’t just about valuation; it’s about values.

 

So, dear founders, here’s the challenge: Can you disrupt safety like you disrupted hunger?

 

Because right now, the only thing moving faster than your deliveries is the risk riding pillion.

 

I’m not suggesting we dismantle the beautiful convenience economy you’ve built. I’m simply asking for a recalibration – one that values human life above delivery metrics.

 

And no biryani, no matter how fragrant, no groceries, no matter how essential, are worth a life.

 

Stay Hungry. Stay Safe. Stay Awesome.

 

P.S. If this post saves one life, my job is done. If it gets me free Zomato Gold, well… that’s just karma.

 

Ever seen a pressure cooker?
It whistles not because it’s broken.
It whistles because it’s working.

 

Same with us.

 

Frustration is not a fault. It’s a feature. A sign that you’re alive, awake — and maybe, just maybe — that you’re made for something bigger than your current stuckness.

 

But here’s the tragedy:

Most of us treat frustration like a full stop.
When it’s just a comma. (And if you play it right, an exclamation mark!)

 

We’ve all been there – trapped in that swirling vortex where every setback feels like a personal attack from the universe. Your presentation freezes just as the CEO walks in. Your brilliant marketing campaign falls flat. The promotion goes to someone else. And suddenly, you’re not just experiencing frustration – you’re becoming it.

 

But here’s the truth bomb nobody drops when you’re knee-deep in your feelings: frustration is merely a visitor, not your identity.

 

Let’s go back in time a bit.

 

Take Michelangelo. Before he gave us the David, he spent months staring at a giant flawed block of marble that everyone else had rejected.Some days, he wanted to chuck the chisel and binge-watch Netflix (ok, maybe not- that is stretching it a bit too far). But he stayed with it. Not because the marble got easier. Because he got bigger than his frustration.

 

Flash-forward to you: That career stagnation? That relationship pothole? That gym scale that mocks you every morning? None of them define you. They just dare you.

 

You are not your missed promotions, your ghosted dates, your rejected pitches, or your stubborn waistline.You are the persistence that follows.
You are the poetry after the chaos.

 

At a brand level, here are two classic examples.

 

Remember when Apple almost went bankrupt in the ’90s?
Frustration was the company mascot.
Innovation took a sabbatical.
Relevance went out for cigarettes and never came back.

 

Then Steve Jobs returns.
iPod happens. iPhone explodes.
Apple stops selling just computers.
It sells dreams, defiance, and a different way of being.

 

Imagine if Apple had accepted its frustration as its obituary instead of its origin story.

 

Closer home, look at Amul. When global dairy brands were busy crying over spilt milk in India, Amul  cooperativized the chaos. Result: One frustrated dairy revolution later, Amul became the Taste of India — and stayed tastier than most global imports.

 

Frustrations don’t kill brands.Complacency does. Brands, like people, thrive when they reframe frustration as fuel. 

 

Netflix started as a DVD rental service annoyed by late fees. Their frustration birthed streaming.

 

Airbnb was born when two guys couldn’t pay rent and turned their loft into a makeshift B&B.

Slack emerged from a failed gaming company’s internal chat tool. Their “Plan B” is now a $27 billion “oops-we-accidentally-revolutionized-work” story.

Frustration isn’t a dead end—it’s a detour sign.  Frustration is proof you’re still playing the game.

 

Ever had one of those days where your Wi-Fi crawls slower than a snail on sedatives, your coffee spills on your crisp white shirt, and your boss forwards an email with just a “??” at 11 PM? Frustration, thy name is modern life.

But here’s the thing—your frustrations don’t define you. In fact, the gap between where you are and where you want to be? That’s where the magic happens.

 

The liberating truth is that your frustrations are data points, not destiny. They highlight what you care about, where you’re stretching, what needs reinvention. Stuck in traffic? Audiobooks turn gridlock into growth.
Clients ghosting you? Maybe your messaging needs more soul, less sales.
Social media chaos? Unfollow the noise; create your own signal.

 

Brands that Said “To Heck With This” and won:

– Nike: Started by a track coach pissed at crappy shoes. Now? “Just Do It” is a global war cry.

– Tesla: Elon Musk got laughed out of Detroit. Joke’s on them—he’s rewriting the rules of the road.

– WhatsApp: Jan Koum was so sick of missing calls, he built a $19 billion fix.

Moral? The bigger the pain, the harder the hustle.

 

Here’s something we conveniently forget during our most frustrated moments: biologically speaking, emotions are just temporary neurochemical states. They’re literally designed to pass.Yet when frustration comes knocking, we often give it a permanent address in our mental real estate. We all can do this biological reality check.

 

Frustration is just information in disguise. The question is: are you reading it right?

 

History doesn’t remember the competent people who never faced frustration. It remembers the obstinate die-harders who stared it down and refused to be defined by it:

 

Stephen King’s first novel was rejected 30 times. He threw it in the trash. His wife fished it out. That novel was “Carrie.”

 

Arianna Huffington was rejected by 36 publishers. One called her writing “unsaleable.” She later sold The Huffington Post for $315 million.

 

Howard Schultz  was rejected by 217 investors when trying to fund Starbucks.

 

Were they frustrated? Absolutely frigging devastated. Did they allow that frustration to become their identity? The evidence speaks for itself.

 

Even brands get stuck in traffic. Brands, like people, get frustrated. Product launches flop, campaigns tank, competitors sprint ahead. Cue the existential dread and a lot of “Why us?” in the boardroom. But frustration, when harnessed, is rocket fuel for reinvention.

 

Remember Michelin? A tire company that decided to rate restaurants. Logic said, “Stick to rubber.” Imagination said, “Let’s make dining an adventure.” Today, a Michelin Star is culinary gold, and the brand is synonymous with excellence far beyond tires. That leap didn’t come from comfort; it came from the friction of wanting to be more.

 

So the next time frustration comes knocking, don’t just answer the door-invite it in, offer it tea, and let it teach you a thing or two. Because you are more than your frustrations. You are the sum of your comebacks, not your setbacks. Choose Today.

 

I am not sure if this would sound like Aesops Fables.

 

 

Once upon a time, in a fluorescent-lit jungle full of cubicles, humans woke up, put on pants (sometimes), and went to places called “offices” where they… did things. They were called “employees.” They had bosses, parking spots, water cooler gossip, and an inexplicable addiction to Excel.

 

 

But that world? It’s dead. Buried somewhere between fax machines and annual appraisals.

 

 

Employment as we knew it is over. And no, this isn’t a LinkedIn humblebrag post about freelancing from Bali with a MacBook and a matcha latte.
This is a hard stare at reality, iced with a slice of truth and served with zero filters.

 

 

Let’s take a look at what has seen the ‘sell by expiry date ‘- The 9 to 5 rigmarole: It is now officially a punchline in Gen Z memes. The Org Chart: Aka the human zoo layout. Looks pretty. Does nothing. Loyalty to a logo:People are loyal to purpose, not pension plans. One Career Forever: That’s like committing to one brand of cereal for life. Madness.

 

 

Work is no longer a place you go to. It is a thing that you plug into. Companies now tap skills on demand — designers from Ukraine, coders in Bangalore, strategists in Madrid — all working on the same problem while never wearing pants. For eg look at Netflix’s global content team? Scattered across continents, united by Slack and sarcasm.

 

 

The emergence of a new class: The Creator Employee: Today’s talent doesn’t want to be owned. They want to create. And smart orgs? They encourage it.
Think of your team as a bunch of Netflix Originals, not reruns of a 90s sitcom. Duolingo’s social media team is a meme machine. People stay for the work, not for the job title.

 

 

The whole balance shtick assumes work and life are opponents.
They’re not. It’s a dance. Some days the DJ plays Beyoncé. Some days it’s tax audit blues.  Parents on Zoom calls with toddlers crashing in the background? That’s not unprofessional. That’s real. It is not work-life balance. It is work-life blending.

 

 

Employment is dead. But work? Work is more alive, electric, creative, and rebellious than ever. And the organisations that get it? They won’t be employers. They’ll be magnets.

 

 

So the rallying cry for wanting to be future-ready organisations would read something like this. Replace hierarchy with fluidity. Kill the idea of clocking in. Embrace outputs over hours. Don’t hire people to control them. Hire them to unleash them.  Offer meaning. Or offer ping pong tables. But don’t pretend the second is a substitute for the first. Hey organisations, adapt or go obsolete.

 

 

The needle has moved. If you cared to notice. You’re not building teams anymore. You’re curating energy. You’re not offering jobs. You’re offering journeys. Work isn’t a place. It’s a vibe. The cubicle is the new coffin. If your employees can’t create, they will quit. 

 

 

The future of work is so last decade. We are in the age of the task force, NOT work force. Talent doesn’t line up. It drops in. Executes. Vanishes like Batman. The smart organisations are killing time sheets and tracking impact instead. They are ditching office politics for async magic. Letting people work when they are most dangerous( yes, even at 2.27 am). Thy are building cultures of trust, not surveillance software.

 

The sooner we realise that employment is a 90s rom-com while work today is a Tarantino flick, the better. Employment is a leash. Work is a parachute. 

 

 

Employment is a fossil. Work is a festival. One’s stiff and regulated. The other’s wild, weird, and wonderfully alive.

 

 

So ask yourself: Are we a workplace… or a launchpad? Are we building cubicles… or communities? Do our people work for us… or do they come alive with us?

 

 

Choose wisely. The talent isn’t waiting. It’s swiping right on better options. Full-time employee is now Corporate Sanskrit.  People aren’t your resources, they’re your investors. Talent invests their creativity, network, reputation, and intellectual capital in your organization, and they expect appropriate returns – financial, developmental, purposeful, and lifestyle.

 

Your lens dictates your drama. Adjust focus accordingly.

 

The pessimist sees darkness in the tunnel.The optimist sees light at the end of the tunnel.The realist sees a train. The train driver sees three idiots standing on the tracks.

 

Welcome to Planet Perspective.There are many ways to view the world.Some people zoom in.Others zoom out.And some…well, they just hit “mute” on reality and stream their own episode of Life According to Me, Myself & I. And you know what? That’s not a bug. That’s a feature. Because how you see the world changes everything – your choices, your failures, your fashion sense (I’m looking at you, socks-and-sandals guy), and most importantly, your impact.

 

For example, take a look at the iconic Gulzar‘s writing for a moment: Where most see words as tools, he sees them as threads to stitch the soul. He doesn’t write songs. He writes emotional earthquakes in lowercase. “Humne dekhi hai un aankhon ki mehekti khushboo.” Come on, who sees fragrance in eyes? Only someone who isn’t colorblind to feelings. Yup. Smell. In eyes. Try that on your ChatGPT and see it throw a syntax tantrum. Point is: Genius is just seeing the world through a different filter.

 

Reframing isn’t just a brand positioning or therapy term. When life hands you lemons, do you…make lemonade? Ask for salt and tequila? File a lawsuit for emotional citrus trauma? You choose. Always. Perspective is the original, OG Augmented Reality. No headset required. Just a mindset upgrade. When life gives you lemons, squeeze them over ribs and call it gourmet!

 

What we need to delete in hyper hurry including but not restricted to: ” This is how it’s always been done.” — The world’s most boring epitaph. “Let’s play it safe.” — Translation: Let’s park our creativity in a coma.“What will people say?” — Usually uttered right before nothing legendary ever happens.

 

The world is not what it is. It is how you look at it. Same world. Different eyeballs. Some people see crisis. Others see startup ideas. One person sees rain and cancels plans. Another sees it as free car wash and emotional background score.

The world is not just a place; it’s a perspective. It’s a kaleidoscope of possibilities, a playground of interpretations, and sometimes, a stage for rib-tickling humor. Whether you’re gazing at the horizon or scrolling through your social media feed, the way you view the world is what shapes your narrative. And guess what? It can be as racy, provocative, and inspiring as you want it to be.

 

Imagine this: two people standing on the same beach. One sees a breathtaking sunset painting the sky with hues of orange and pink. The other grumbles about sand in their shoes. Same scene, different lenses.Life is like that—your view is your choice, your story.

 

Most of us are trapped in perspectives so restrictive we make Victorian corsets look like freedom wear. We are intellectual virgins claiming to be worldly – peeking at life through a keyhole while pretending we’ve seen the whole orgy.

 

So the narrative we need to be telling ourselves is: Currently in an open relationship with multiple perspectives. Because, monogamy is for the intellectually insecure.

 

F. Scott Fitzgerald famously wrote: “The test of a first-rate intelligence is the ability to hold two opposing ideas in mind at the same time and still retain the ability to function. One should, for example, be able to see that things are hopeless yet be determined to make them otherwise.” Cognitive dissonance if you may. It is the Mental 69 of holding two opposing views simultaneously.

 

Most of us treat perspectives like monogamous relationships – we commit to one and defend it to the death. Try intellectual polyamory instead. When facing any situation, force yourself to hold two completely contradictory perspectives simultaneously: That coworker who drives you insane? They’re both an insufferable narcissist AND potentially your greatest teacher. That failed project? It’s both a humiliating disaster AND the setup for your greatest comeback story.

 

Your brain will resist this mental pretzel position at first, but stick with it. The tension between opposing viewpoints creates a friction zone where your best insights are born.

 

Whatever your instinctive perspective on an issue, completely flip your default position– so, saddle up and ride it in the opposite direction. If you’re a capitalism-loving entrepreneur, spend a day deeply considering how communal ownership might solve problems. If you’re a tech-loving futurist, consider how returning to ancestral practices might heal modern ailments.

 

When facing a problem, invoke specific people (real or fictional) and view it through their eyes. Bring a third-party into your thinking. How would your grandmother approach your career dilemma? What would Batman do about your noisy neighbors? How would Marie Kondo organize your conflicting priorities?

 

Here’s the raw truth: your perspective isn’t who you are – it’s just what you’re wearing to the party right now. And like any outfit, you can change it whenever you want. Most people treat their worldview like it’s surgically attached to their identity, when really it’s more like those snap-on collars priests wear – functional but completely removable.

 

The most dangerous words in any language are “that’s just how I see things.” It’s the intellectual equivalent of announcing you’ve retired from growth and are now comfortable being mentally constipated for the remainder of your existence.

 

So if you permit me to throw a filthy challenge: For the next week, mentally undress from your default perspective daily and try on something inappropriate, revealing, and possibly illegal in several southern states. View your job through the eyes of a high-end escort. Consider your family dynamics from the perspective of a cult leader. Approach your fitness goals like a victorian-era explorer discovering new territories. Then notice how your mental groin muscles feel – deliciously sore in ways you didn’t know were possible.

 

The world isn’t just black and white. It’s a kaleidoscope of delusions, genius, and outright absurdity—often all at once. Buckle up. We’re about to take a joyride through perspectives so wild, they’ll make your GPS quit in protest.