Some reflections on 2024

I wrote this essay in 2023 as a way to process the year and capture the moments that stood out. It was a chance to pause, make sense of what happened, and document it for posterity.

It feels like yesterday, and yet here we are at the end of 2024—it has flown by in a blur. As it winds down, I wanted to do this exercise again. There’s no better way to reflect than by putting pen to paper. So here’s a look back at the moments, lessons, and experiences that defined my year.

1. On the changing notion of work

This year marked a significant milestone—a job change. Transitioning from McKinsey to Mastercard was not just a career decision but a journey of truth-seeking.

At McKinsey, I found myself working very long hours with diminishing returns on meaning and impact. Sacrificing the basic elements of a good life—a defined routine, physical health, time with loved ones, and personal interests—for work that often felt inconsequential began to feel untenable.

Over my stints at different workplaces, I have come to the conclusion that early in your career, letting go of “life” for work can yield exceptionally high returns. You learn rapidly, and more importantly, you establish yourself as dependable—the single most valuable trait leaders look for. This trade-off is feasible primarily because, at that stage, you typically have fewer family commitments, making it relatively easy to slog.

But after 4-5 years, this equation changes dramatically. Continuing to sacrifice life for work only makes sense under two conditions: either you have asymmetric returns built into your compensation (meaning significant equity), or you’re genuinely passionate about your work (often because it’s groundbreaking, like building LLMs or some creative pursuit). These conditions usually come as a pair—it’s rare to find one without the other.

But most salaried positions involve doing ‘cog in the wheel’ work and without meaningful equity, sacrificing your life for work is simply not the most prudent choice. Many people in such situations use work to escape deeper life problems, but this approach solves nothing.

So when you hear founders like Murthy, Bhavish, or Palicha advocating for extreme work ethics, remember—they do so because they have both the conditions (of asymmetric returns and working on their passion) satisfied for them, which shapes their entire perspective. The real hypocrisy emerges when founders expect life-consuming dedication while offering little to mediocre equity packages.

This insight pushed me to steer clear of startups and other organisations with poor work culture and stock policies when considering the job change. I also found my passion, stage, people framework to be quite helpful when making the decision.

Joining Mastercard was a recalibration. I am excited about payments and B2B SaaS. I am looking forward to work that is more technical, comes with high ownership and brings in global exposure.

2. On cross-cultural encounters and structured learning

I spent a week in Thailand for a program called LEAD, hosted by McKinsey. Associates from across Asia and Australia came together for sessions on often-overlooked yet essential topics like self-awareness, leadership, and relationship building. The program was immersive, with lessons from senior colleagues, role plays, and team-based activities. My six-member team was a fascinating mix of influences—Chinese, Malaysian, Australian, Indian, and European—through migration, upbringing, or family ties. Over five days, we spent hours together—sharing meals, resolving conflicts, and talking about our cultures. The experience was truly enriching.

One of the most striking insights was how multicultural relationships and upbringings are far more common abroad. In India, even when people move overseas, they tend to marry within the culture. But in places like Europe and Southeast Asia, global mobility fosters a natural blending of cultures. It was fascinating to see how fluidly people navigated their multicultural identities.

Another insight was the emotional openness I observed. People abroad tend to express their feelings and navigate relationships with a level of honesty that can sometimes create perceptions of instability. For instance, higher divorce rates or more fluid familial structures abroad are often seen negatively, but they’re a reflection of people being true to their emotions and circumstances. Relationships are allowed to evolve or end when they no longer serve both individuals, which, in many ways, is healthier and more authentic.

In contrast, in India, relationships often carry the weight of societal expectations. Many couples and families maintain a facade of stability to conform to cultural norms, even when the relationship is strained. This creates a skewed perception—while divorce rates might be lower and it might appear that families are together, it doesn’t necessarily mean that relationships are thriving. Instead, the societal focus on appearances often discourages open conversations about personal needs and feelings, which can lead to unresolved tensions.

On a personal level, what stood out was how consistent the feedback I received was—despite cultural differences, my teammates’ observations mirrored the feedback I often get in India. It was reassuring to see my work ethic and personality come across the same way globally. What delighted me was their appreciation for my sense of humour. There’s something special about connecting with people from different backgrounds and making them laugh—it made the experience even more memorable.

This shared understanding across cultures also deepened my appreciation for trust and how it operates in diverse settings. I learned about the Trust Equation, a framework that provides a practical way to think about building and maintaining trust:

Trust = (Credibility × Reliability × Intimacy)/(Self−Orientation)

Trust is built when people see you as competent, dependable, and genuinely on their side. Credibility is knowing your stuff. Reliability is doing what you say you’ll do. And intimacy is making people feel understood and safe.

The tricky part is self-orientation—if people think you’re acting mainly for yourself, it undercuts everything else. Trust grows when your focus is on helping others, not just advancing your own agenda.

Once we understood trust, we were prompted to introspect about personal values through a fun exercise. I identified curiosity, excellence, and love as the values I care about most.

  • Curiosity – A lot of what I do is based in understanding how things work and discover what others miss. I have always been a curious soul and I feel it is core to my being.
  • Excellence – I believe in doing things well or not doing them at all. It is not because I have to, but because it feels wrong not to; the best things come from people who care deeply about their craft.
  • Love – Love adds meaning to life. It might not always be logical, but it’s what makes life worth living—being open to it is part of living fully.

Over the course of the five days, I was also pushed to rethink how I lead and manage myself. While I naturally lean toward expertise-led leadership, I recognised that building influence by fostering accountability, creating intimacy, and communicating a clear vision are areas I need to develop.

Beyond leadership, this week of introspection also opened the door to exploring another important aspect of personal growth—understanding and managing my inner world, which led me to explore the idea of therapy.

3. On therapy

I tried and embraced therapy for the first time in my life this year. It has been transformative in reshaping my self-awareness and helping me understand emotions better. Having gone through over 20 sessions, I’ve been able to uncover truths that I had unconsciously avoided.

Previously, I relied on journaling and meditation, believing these practices were sufficient for self-reflection. But therapy revealed the limits of my self-sufficiency. I realised that I often stopped introspection at convenient points within my comfort zone, avoiding the uncomfortable or the unknown. Therapy provided the guidance and courage to explore these depths.

There have been many learnings but the two most important takeaways include:

  1. Differentiating feelings from thoughts: I am learning to identify and process emotions without intellectualising them. As someone who is too cognitive, it was a revelation how simply understanding this difference can enable stronger relationships all around.
  2. Embracing vulnerability: I am recognising that strength lies in openness and honesty. True connection emerges when we dare to lower our guard. By sharing the quiet thoughts that keep us up at night, the fears that make us hesitate, and the dreams we usually keep hidden, we invite others into our inner world. It’s in these unguarded moments, when we choose authenticity over armour, that superficial relationships transform into profound bonds.

Having a good therapist is like having a life coach who is able to give you unbiased advice and call you out when you are not acting in accordance with your best interests. It gives massive returns for the time invested–even more so when undertaken in a reasonably healthy mental state condition. Would 100% recommend!

4. On love

I realised that love is probably one thing where we don’t have as much control over as we think we do. Everything from finding the right person, liking and loving them to having them love you back is a matter of extreme luck that you can only partially influence. Fortunes change in unimaginable ways–you’ve got to have patience and belief.

You also need to exhibit extraordinary tenacity. You need to put yourself out there and invest your heart and soul into it. You need to let down your guard, risk getting profoundly hurt, and find the courage to try again till the time you don’t find the right person for you. Healing is a key part of this process—giving yourself permission to mend and finding ways for pain and beauty to coexist is essential for growth.

My fictional romanticism has been extensively normalised with experience. I don’t believe in the existence of ‘the one’ anymore. I believe in finding people with qualities in the ballpark of what you feel ‘the one’ might potentially have–people with the right intrinsics. Putting the effort in committing and building the relationship has much higher returns.

That being said, my admiration for art that fantasises romance in impractical ways knows no bounds. Here are some of my favourite songs on love that I played on repeat this year:

5. On stand-out experiences

2024 was a well rounded year with a lot of amazing experiences but following are some events and memories that stand-out a little more than others:

  • The visit to the Sula Vineyards, Nashik was a wonderful experience. The whole process of sourcing the grapes to storing and fermenting them to make wine is incredibly crafty. It was nice to learn about it.

    The highlight though was getting my parents to try the various kinds of wines. I am grateful that they are open to new experiences. Even though they grew up in a setup where alcohol was a taboo and still don’t drink, the fact that they embraced it shows a lot of growth on their part too.

  • I spent a day lying on the Jomitien beach in Pattaya, Thailand. It was my most peaceful day of the year. The sound of the waves, the changing colours of the sky, and the feel of sand were therapeutic. It was not crowded. It was clean. It was magical.

  • I had some amazing culinary encounters throughout the year. Among places to eat, O Pedro in Bombay (Goan), Comorin in Gurgaon (fusion Indian) and Royal Vega at the ITC Mementos in Udaipur (Rajwadi) would receive an NPS of 10. In addition to this, I discovered Good Flippin Burgers–they serve the best burgers and fries that I have ever had.

    Among dishes, Mango Sticky Rice in Thailand, Mirchi Bada in Jodhpur, and Laal Maans in Jaisalmer really stood out.

  • I watched a cricket match at the Wankhede and it was a dream come true. India winning the 2011 World Cup and Sachin playing his last test match there are among the most important sporting memories of my life. It was a surreal feeling to be there and take in the aura that the place has.
  • I played Pickleball! It was fun to do a trendy thing and find out for myself what the hype is all about. It strengthened my desire to try my hands at Tennis. Maybe in 2025!
  • The two movies that I absolutely loved were 12th Fail and Soul. While 12th Fail is well renowned for the kind of emotions it has evoked, Soul surprised me. It had amazing philosophical depth for a movie genre that typically targets kids. It explores themes like mortality, discovering your purpose, and cherishing life’s small joys. The following was my favourite dialog from the movie:

    "I heard this story about a fish. He swims up to an older fish and says, 'I'm trying to find this thing they call the ocean.' 'The ocean?' says the older fish, 'That's what you're in right now.' 'This?' says the younger fish, 'This is water. What I want is the ocean!'"

  • I didn’t read a lot this year but fortunately the things I did read turned out to be high density insight sources. Among books, Just Enough Design by Taku Satoh, How to Live by Derek Sivers and How to Decide by Annie Duke were three exceptionally good reads. Here’s an excerpt from Just Enough Design that I found particularly fascinating. This made me very curious about Japanese culture and philosophy.

    Hodo-hodo, meaning "just enough," is a marvelous phrase rooted in ancient Japan. In Japanese, hodo-hodo can mean letting go of something before it is completed. Applied to design, hodo-hodo no dezain could imply "just enough design." Which probably sounds like not very good design, but rephrasing it as "designing the hell out of a level that's just enough" or "perfecting the design of just enough" undoubtedly transforms your impression. In other words, the shade of meaning I want to convey with hodo-hodo is deliberately holding back, fully aware of the ideal of completion. Holding back before completion gives us precisely the room that we need to respond to any object according to our unique sensibilities. You could say that this space is what allows us to customize our relationships with objects. Each individual has a particular set of values and behaviors. Thus, when presented with an object that has no space left, many of us feel walled in, with no room to breathe. Brands and designers often race single-mindedly to perfect something as though it's a work of art. But design has no inherent value. Its value is only born of the relationship that individuals develop with an object.


    For instance, a utensil premised on the abilities of those who use it. The best example is Japanese hashi, known in the West as chopsticks, which we use to eat. By expertly deploying two sticks identically tapered at one end, you can pick up anything from tiny grains of rice and beans to a large potato. This remarkably simple tool can be used to separate pieces of meat, pierce and divide soft foods, stir up miso soup, carry slippery wakame seaweed into our mouths, wrap nori around rice, and so many other things. In hashi, you can see a "design relationship" entirely different from the Western knife and fork. The modern knife and fork each have a handle, enlarged for easy grasping, and the contour of the handle is often a design feature. Compare this to hashi, which are designed without handles or indeed any indication of how to hold them. The design of hashi is not design that instructs us, "Use me this way." Instead, hashi are essentially two sticks that somewhat indifferently suggest, "Use me however you want." So I can imagine that hashi may flummox people from other countries who first encounter them. But once you figure them out, their high functionality as eating utensils makes them irreplaceable.

    Additionally, following are some short form essays that I liked:

  • I lost a close uncle, and one of my best friends got married. The juxtaposition of sadness against extreme elation was a good reminder of how our relationships are the most beautiful part of our being. It makes me grateful for what I have.

Looking ahead to 2025, I want to embrace intentionality—to focus on things that truly matter to me. I want to spend my time on endeavours that I enjoy doing for the sake of them. Growth without goals is what I am going to abide by.

I’ll close this post with a beautiful couplet by Bulleh Shah, that I discovered through the song Dooron Dooron and touched me deeply.

Zeher vekh ke peeta te ki peeta
Ishq soch ke keeta te ki keeta
Dil de ke dil lain di aas rakhi
Pyar eho jeha keeta te ki keeta

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