The Great Indian Work-From-Home Experiment: How We Turned Bedrooms into Boardroom

A desi survival guide to professional meetings in your pajamas

March 2020 hit us like that relative who shows up unannounced during lunch time. One day we were complaining about traffic and office politics, the next day we were explaining to our mothers why we couldn't "just pause the meeting" to receive the grocery delivery. Welcome to the great Indian Work-From-Home experiment, where productivity meets family chaos in the most spectacular way possible.

The Setup: Transforming Your Ghar into a Corporate Office

Remember when the biggest decision about your bedroom was whether to make the bed or not? Suddenly, we became interior designers overnight. That corner where you used to dump clothes? Corporate background. The bed you never made? Off-limits camera zone. The poster of Shah Rukh Khan? Strategic repositioning required.

Every Indian home has that one "clean" wall that becomes the designated video call backdrop. You know, the one wall that doesn't have your mother's collection of small plants, your father's newspaper stack from 1987, or that random family photo where everyone looks like they were forced to smile at gunpoint.

My neighbor spent ₹5,000 on a "professional" backdrop, only to realize his wife's pressure cooker whistles provided the real ambiance during client calls. Nothing says "authentic Indian work experience" like explaining what that mysterious whistling sound is to confused foreign colleagues.

The Great Mute Button Mastery

Working from home taught us the sacred art of the mute button faster than our engineering degrees taught us anything useful. We became digital ninjas, unmuting ourselves with lightning speed while simultaneously signaling our mothers to lower the TV volume.

Indian families have this supernatural ability to choose the exact moment you're presenting quarterly reports to have their loudest conversations. "Beta, should I make aloo gobi or bhindi today?" becomes a boardroom discussion topic whether you want it or not.

The real MVPs are those who mastered the "nod and smile" technique when their mic accidentally unmuted during family arguments. We've all been there – trying to look professional while internally praying that nobody heard your father arguing with the cable guy about why Star Plus isn't working.

Dress Code: Business on Top, Comfort Below

The pandemic gave birth to the revolutionary "meeting mullet" – professional shirt on top, pajamas below. We became masters of the strategic camera angle, ensuring our colleagues never discovered that our "power dressing" stopped at the waist.

I know at least three people who attended important presentations in formal shirts and underwear. The real anxiety wasn't about the presentation; it was about accidentally standing up during screen share. Imagine explaining to your boss why you're giving quarterly projections while wearing cartoon character boxers.

The shoes situation was even more hilarious. We'd religiously wear formal shoes for in-person meetings but now slip into chappals between video calls. Some people got so comfortable that they forgot how to walk in actual shoes when offices reopened. "Sir, I'm having technical difficulties with my footwear."

The Background Cameo Artists

Every Indian household has those uninvited background stars who refuse to follow the "meeting in progress" memo. Your father, who usually watches news at volume level 47, suddenly develops selective hearing when you're on important calls.

Then there's the domestic help who has impeccable timing. They'll choose the exact moment you're discussing budget allocations to start their loudest cleaning routine right outside your door. The vacuum cleaner becomes your unofficial meeting soundtrack.

The real legends are the pets and younger siblings who treat your video calls like their personal entertainment show. Dogs barking at delivery guys, cats deciding your laptop keyboard is their new bed, and siblings photobombing your screen with dance moves that would make TikTok proud.

The Indian Family Integration Program

Working from home meant your family finally understood what you do for a living. Sort of. Your mother still thinks "client calls" means you're chatting with friends, and your father believes every video meeting is negotiable time-wise.

"Beta, meeting khatam? Come eat lunch." became the most heard phrase across Indian households. Explaining that virtual meetings have the same time constraints as physical ones was like teaching calculus to your neighborhood stray cat.

The funniest part? Family members started recognizing your colleagues' voices and developing opinions about them. "That Sharma ji from your office talks too much," your mother would comment, having eavesdropped on exactly one team meeting.

The Technology Trials

Internet connectivity became more important than electricity in Indian homes. We discovered that our "unlimited" broadband had very creative definitions of "unlimited." Nothing teaches patience like watching your screen freeze mid-sentence during an important presentation.

Every family appointed one "tech support" person (usually the youngest member) to handle video call crises. "Screen nahi dikh raha" became the most common household emergency, ranking higher than actual emergencies.

The irony? We spent years avoiding family time, and suddenly we were conducting professional meetings from the heart of family chaos. Your presentation skills were tested not by tough questions from clients, but by explaining why your grandmother just walked past the camera in her nightgown.

The New Normal Normalcy

Looking back, the work-from-home experiment taught us that productivity doesn't require pants (at least not full pants), that family interruptions can be more entertaining than office small talk, and that Indian families have an incredible ability to adapt to anything – including their children running multinational meetings from the dining table.

We learned to embrace the beautiful chaos. Yes, the neighbor's dog still barks during important calls. Yes, your mother still doesn't understand why you can't pause a live meeting. And yes, we all secretly enjoyed wearing comfortable clothes while looking professional on screen.

The best part? We proved that Indians can work efficiently from anywhere – even if "anywhere" includes beds that double as boardrooms, kitchens that serve as conference rooms, and bathrooms that provide the only quiet space for confidential calls.

So here's to all the work-from-home warriors who successfully convinced their bosses they were productive while simultaneously managing family drama, technology disasters, and the eternal struggle of looking professional while feeling completely ridiculous.

After all, we're the generation that learned to say "Can you hear me now?" in six different languages and became experts at unmuting ourselves faster than our parents can find their reading glasses. If that's not professional growth, what is?

#BusinessOnTopPajamasBelow #PressureCookerProblems #BackgroundCameos #TechSupportFamily #UnlimitedBroadbandMyth #MeetingInterruptions

Adulting Is a Scam: The Unauthorized Manual for Surviving Grown-Up Life

When I first stepped into “adulthood,” I expected freedom, excitement, and independence. What I found instead was a mountain of bills, a maze of responsibilities, and a never-ending list of expectations. That rude awakening is what inspired me to write Adulting Is a Scam: The Unauthorized Manual for Everything Grown-Up.

This book is my unfiltered take on the reality we all live but rarely talk about. I wanted to write something different from the usual self-help books that promise happiness in ten easy steps or a “secret” formula for success. Life doesn’t work that way. Adulting is messy, complicated, and sometimes downright absurd. So why not call it what it really is—a scam?

In these pages, I take you through the pitfalls of modern adulthood: crushing debt, financial illusions, toxic workplaces, and the constant need to look like you have your life under control. I write with sarcasm, humor, and brutal honesty because let’s face it—sugarcoating won’t pay your rent or fix your burnout.

But this isn’t just about complaints. It’s also about awareness. I believe that once you strip away the illusions, you can actually start living with more clarity. I talk about the importance of financial literacy, setting personal boundaries, and learning to laugh at the absurdity of it all. These are the real skills of survival—skills we should’ve been taught in school but weren’t.

I’ve lived through the grease, the grind, and the quiet desperation that many adults carry behind their smiles. I know what it feels like to question whether this is really what life is supposed to be. Writing this book was my way of saying: you’re not alone, and no, you’re not crazy for feeling this way.

Adulting Is a Scam is part satire, part survival guide, and part lifeline for anyone navigating this impossible stage of life. If you’ve ever looked at your paycheck, your bills, or your endless responsibilities and thought, “Is this really it?”—this book is for you.

Get your copy of Adulting Is a Scam today → 

Amazon.com Buy from Amazon (International Readers)

Pothi.com (Buy HARDCOVER) (Indian Readers)

Pothi.com (Buy PAPERBACK) (Indian Readers)

Adulting: Still Waiting for the Manual (Indian Edition)

A desi take on how nobody really knows what they're doing, despite what aunty ji thinks

Remember when you were a bachcha and thought adults had it all figured out? That somewhere between 10th boards and getting your first job, someone would hand you "The Complete Guide to Being a Proper Indian Adult" - complete with chapters on when to get married, how to handle relatives' questions, and the ancient art of making round rotis?

Well, plot twist: That manual was probably lost somewhere between Independence and the IT boom. And if it exists, it's definitely written by some uncle who thinks WhatsApp forwards are news.

Education - The Great Marks Race

Our education system prepared us for everything except... well, life. We can solve complex trigonometry problems but can't figure out how to file our own PAN card application. We memorized the periodic table but nobody taught us how to negotiate with auto drivers or understand EMIs.

I realized this when my neighbor's 8-year-old asked me what I studied, and after saying "Engineering," he immediately asked, "But uncle, why are you not in America?" Even kids know the script better than we do.

The truth? Half of us chose engineering because "beta, scope hai," and the other half chose it because our parents filled out the application form. Now we're all "software engineers" who spend our days in meetings discussing things that could have been emails.

Sports and the Great Indian Dream

Every Indian parent wants their child to be the next Sachin or Saina, but only after they become a doctor or engineer first. We grew up playing gully cricket with elaborate rules ("Ball goes to terrace, you're out!") and football with stones as goalposts.

Now as adults, our biggest sporting achievement is climbing three flights of stairs without getting breathless, or successfully completing a morning walk without getting distracted by street food. We watch IPL religiously and argue about team strategies while struggling to touch our own toes.

Friends - The WhatsApp Warriors

Remember when friendship meant sharing tiffin and cycling to school together? Now our deepest conversations happen in WhatsApp groups named "College Gang" where we share good morning messages and argue about whose turn it is to plan the reunion that never happens.

We have three types of friends: school friends who remember when you were weird, college friends who know your secrets, and work friends who pretend to laugh at your boss's jokes with you. All of them will eventually ask you to like their spouse's business page on Facebook.

Love in the Time of Arranged-cum-Love

Bollywood taught us that love meant dancing around trees and fighting 10 villains for your beloved. Reality taught us that love means finding someone whose Netflix preferences match yours and whose family doesn't ask too many questions about your salary.

We have "love marriages" that started on matrimonial sites and "arranged marriages" where the couple chatted on WhatsApp for six months first. The lines are so blurred that even we don't know which category we fall into anymore.

Marriage - The Great Indian Wedding Circus

Nothing prepares you for Indian wedding planning. You'll spend more time discussing the catering menu than you did choosing your life partner. Relatives you've never met will have strong opinions about your mehendi design, and someone will definitely comment that weddings were simpler "in our time."

The best part? After all the drama, photos, and dance performances, married life is basically the same as being single, except now you have to coordinate your Amazon deliveries and someone judges your choice of breakfast cereal.

Family - The Original Reality TV Show

Indian families are the ultimate ensemble cast where everyone has an opinion about everyone else's life choices. Your career decisions will be debated in family WhatsApp groups, your weight changes will be monitored by distant aunties, and your marriage timeline will be discussed more than the Union Budget.

We master the art of selective listening during family gatherings - nodding at unsolicited advice while mentally planning our escape to the nearest corner with good WiFi.

Happiness - The Moving Goalpost

First it was "get good marks, then you'll be happy." Then "get into good college." Then "get good job." Then "get married." Then "buy house." Then "have kids." The goalposts keep moving faster than our ability to reach them.

Meanwhile, our happiest moments are often the simplest ones - finding a good dosa place, getting through traffic without honking, or successfully explaining to our parents why we don't want to join their morning laughter club.

Children - Mini Mes with Maximum Drama

Having kids means you finally understand why your parents said "wait until you have your own children." These tiny humans will question your authority while simultaneously being completely dependent on you for everything, including finding socks they're literally wearing.

Indian parenting is basically wondering if you should be stricter like your parents were or more liberal like you wished they had been, while your child plays Minecraft and speaks better English than you do.

Money - The Great Indian Middle-Class Struggle

We're the generation caught between "money can't buy happiness" and "₹50 extra for express delivery? That's too much." We budget carefully for months and then spend ₹2000 on food delivery because we're "too tired to cook."

Our relationship with money is complicated: we compare mutual fund returns while buying the cheapest vegetables, and we research phones for weeks before buying but will spend impulsively on "limited time offers."

Jobs - The IT Chronicles

Half of India works in IT, and the other half pretends to understand what the first half does. We attend "scrum meetings" and talk about "bandwidth" while our parents tell people we "work with computers."

Office politics here involves navigating who brought homemade lunch to share, whose birthday cake cutting you have to attend, and how to politely decline invitations to colleagues' house-warming ceremonies.

Politics - The WhatsApp University Graduates

We're all political experts now, thanks to WhatsApp forwards and Twitter threads. Family WhatsApp groups have become debate forums where uncles share "important news" and everyone else practices the art of strategic silence.

The real skill is navigating political conversations at family gatherings without offending anyone while secretly checking fact-checking websites under the table.

Travel - Instagram vs Reality

We plan trips based on Instagram potential and end up spending more time taking photos than actually experiencing places. "Let's go to Goa" usually means "let's recreate those beach photos we saw online."

Indian travel stories always include: getting lost because we trusted Google Maps more than locals, finding the one South Indian restaurant in North India, and that one friend who overpacked for a weekend trip.

The Beautiful Indian Truth

Here's what I've learned from our desi adulting experience: Everyone is just trying to balance tradition with modernity while pretending they know the difference between mutual funds and fixed deposits.

That uncle who seems successful? He's probably still asking his wife to handle all the bank work. The aunty with perfect kids? Her children WhatsApp her to ask how to boil eggs. The cousin with the great job? They're googling "how to talk to boss about salary increment" like the rest of us.

We're all just trying to be good Indians while figuring out what that even means in 2025. We want to respect our parents' values while creating our own, earn in rupees while dreaming in dollars, and maintain relationships while building careers.

The Conclusion (Or, What We're All Really Doing)

So here's to all of us desi adults - the engineering graduates working in marketing, the arranged-love-marriage couples, the family WhatsApp group survivors, and the people still trying to make perfect round rotis.

We may not have received the manual, but we're creating our own version - one that includes equal parts tradition and rebellion, family obligations and personal dreams, and definitely more masala than any Western manual could handle.

And honestly? Our improvised version is probably more entertaining anyway. At least it comes with better food and stronger family support systems, even if they come with unsolicited advice.

P.S. If anyone finds the real Indian adulting manual, it's probably with that relative who knows exactly when you should get married, what job you should have, and why you're not eating enough vegetables. Good luck getting it from them.

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What's your most "only in India" adulting moment? Share your stories in the comments - we're all figuring out this beautiful chaos together, one family gathering at a time.

The Unvarnished Truth: Why Your Restaurant Dream Will Likely "Curry Up and Go Broke"

You dream of culinary glory, don't you? The sizzle of a perfect dish, the clinking of glasses, the rave reviews. You picture yourself as the next great restaurateur, your passion transforming into profit. Stop. Just stop right there. Because the reality of the Indian food industry is a visceral, brutal punch to the gut, and unless you understand its unforgiving nature, your dream will almost certainly Curry Up and Go Broke.

In my book of the same name, Curry Up and Go Broke: A Satirical Guide to the Indian Restaurant Business, from Startup to Pauperdom, I tear down the romantic illusions with a vengeance. This isn't some fluffy motivational guide. This is a battle plan for survival in an arena designed to crush you.

I’ve been in the trenches. I’ve felt the grease, tasted the sweat, and seen the despair in the eyes of countless entrepreneurs whose passion was devoured by a system rigged against them. From crippling lease agreements that are financial bear traps to municipal fees that bleed you dry, every step is fraught with peril. And then, the ultimate predator: the food delivery aggregators.

They promise you customers, they promise you reach. What they deliver is a slow, agonizing death by a thousand cuts. Their "pathological hatred of margins" traps you in a cycle of insane discounts and crippling commissions, turning your culinary art into a commodity. Your unique flavors become irrelevant; all that matters is the next promo code. Loyalty? It’s a myth sold by Silicon Valley, evaporating with the next cheaper option.

This book is a scream of frustration, a stark warning, and ultimately, a lifeline. It’s for anyone audacious enough to consider opening a restaurant in India, or for those already caught in its merciless grip. If you’re not ready to face the raw, unvarnished truth, if you prefer comforting lies to brutal facts, then don't read this book. But if you're prepared to strip away the illusions, to confront the economic impossible, and perhaps, just perhaps, find a way to defy the odds, then Curry Up and Go Broke is your essential, unromanticized guide to not just surviving, but understanding the fight of your life.

You can find the book on Amazon here: Curry Up and Go Broke on Amazon 

Buy it on Pothi.com for Indian Readers here: Curry Up and Go Broke 

Beyond Thought: The Evolution of Manifestation from Myth to Modernity

In a world saturated with information and noise, how do we cut through the chaos to create what we truly desire? In my book, Beyond Thought: The Evolution of Manifestation in Modernity, I explore this very question.

We often believe that thinking harder, planning more meticulously, or simply wishing for something is enough. But what if the true power of creation lies not in our thoughts, but beyond them?

Beyond Thought is a deep dive into the fascinating space where human consciousness meets reality. It’s an exploration of how the act of bringing something into existence has evolved from ancient myths and rituals to the high-speed, hyper-connected world of today. This isn’t just another guide on positive thinking; it’s a philosophical and practical journey that challenges our most basic assumptions about what it means to create.

I argue that true manifestation is a dynamic process, a dance between intention and action. It requires a shift from a purely intellectual approach to one that integrates our intuition, emotional intelligence, and a deep understanding of the world around us. The book delves into how you can cultivate this state of being, leveraging modern tools and a timeless wisdom.

If you’ve ever felt stuck, overwhelmed, or like your biggest dreams are just beyond your grasp, Beyond Thought is for you. It's an invitation to step off the hamster wheel of endless thinking and into a more fluid, powerful way of living and creating.

You can find the book on Amazon here: 

Buy Beyond Thought: The Evolution of Manifestation from Myth to Modernity on Amazon (Rest of the world)

Buy on Pothi.com (India)

Welcome to the Crossroads

Hello, and welcome to my corner of the internet.

For over two decades, I’ve navigated two seemingly disparate worlds: the high-stakes, data-driven reality of business and the boundless, imaginative cosmos of speculative fiction. In one, I was a strategist trying to make sense of profits and losses; in the other, a storyteller grappling with cosmic paradoxes and the nature of reality. The more I wrote, the more I realized these two worlds aren't so different after all.

This blog is where those worlds collide.

Here, you’ll find me exploring the very same themes I tackle in my books—whether it's the uncomfortable truths of an industry or the profound, mind-bending questions about our universe. You can expect posts on:

• The Business of Reality: No-holds-barred takes on entrepreneurship, economics, and the policies shaping our world. I'll be sharing lessons learned and candid insights from the business world's front lines.

• The Fabric of Fiction: Dive deep into the philosophical and scientific ideas that fuel my writing. We’ll talk about consciousness, memory, the nature of truth, and how to build a universe from scratch.

• The Craft: I'll pull back the curtain on my writing process, sharing my thoughts on storytelling, character development, and the art of shaping a narrative, whether it’s a policy blueprint or a sci-fi epic.

In essence, this is a space for those who are just as fascinated by the bottom line as they are by the final frontier. Thank you for stopping by. I'm excited to have you on this journey.