Rethinking economics, Culture, and work: One observation at a time - Shashi Bellamkonda

The Handshake That Broke the Internet: Why Civility is a Power Move We are often told that in conflict, there is no room for pleasantries. Yet, the image of India's External Affairs Minister, Dr. S. Jaishankar, shaking hands with Pakistan’s National Assembly Speaker, Sardar Ayaz Sadiq, in Dhaka has captivated the internet. The immediate reaction from the public was predictable: Is this a thaw? Is peace breaking out? Did policy change overnight? ❖ The Misunderstanding: Civility vs. Strategy There is a common misconception in both business and geopolitics that treating an opponent with warmth implies a concession. We tend to view a handshake as a signature on a contract. But this binary thinking misses the nuance of high-level leadership. According to reports, this was a brief exchange during a somber occasion—the funeral of former Bangladesh Prime Minister Khaleda Zia. It wasn't a summit; it was a moment of human ackno...

The last day of the year usually triggers a panic to plan. We look at the calendar flip to 2026 and feel the pressure to reinvent ourselves. We worry about what surprises are coming. But pause for a moment. You have already done the hard work. You have the knowledge and the experience of the past year. The "unexpectedness" of 2025 is now just data you own. You survived it, you learned from it, and because of that, you are prepared. ❖ The Subconscious as Strategy There is a misunderstanding that "manifesting" is just wishing for things. That is too passive. Real manifestation is when a subconscious dream or thought drives your daily labor. When you deeply want something, your brain quietly organizes your actions to get there. That low-level hum in the back of your mind? That is your navigation system. Trust it to make you work toward your dream in 2026. The ROI of Positive Intent In business and life, we often brace for conflict. We assume ...

The Bus Stop and the Bathroom: The Dual Legacy of Thomas Parry By Shashi Bellamkonda | ReadyThoughts For anyone who grew up in Madras (now Chennai), the phrase "Parry's Corner" is auditory. It is the sound of a conductor shouting the destination of a red city bus. It marks the chaotic, vibrant junction where the city meets the port. Most people instinctively connect the location to Parryware , the ubiquitous sanitaryware brand found in homes across India. The connection seems obvious: a famous corner, a famous brand. But the history of that corner reveals a much larger story about how Indian commerce began, and how brands eventually outgrow their families. ❖ The Merchant of 1788 The name belongs to Thomas Parry , a Welsh merchant who arrived in India in the late 18th century. Unlike many others, he was a "free merchant," operating under a license rather than being a direct employee of the East India Co...

I remember carrying a spare battery for my Samsung phone in my pocket. It was light, it was small, and it gave me instant 100% capacity in ten seconds. On my recent trip, the flight attendant made a strict announcement: "Power banks must be kept in front of you. Do not charge your devices. Do not put them in the overhead bin." The contrast struck me. We engineered phones to be thinner and water-resistant by sealing the batteries inside. But in doing so, we created a dependency on heavy external power banks—which are now considered a safety threat. ❖ The Safety Reality The restrictions are not arbitrary. They are a response to physics. According to the Federal Aviation Administration (FAA), there have been over 500 verified incidents involving lithium batteries on aircraft between 2006 and mid-2024. These aren't minor glitches; they involve smoke, fire, or extreme heat. When a battery fails in the cargo hold or a closed overhead bin, it is a catastro...

I Just Time-Traveled to the Year 1201 (And Why Your Calendar is Just an App) By Shashi Bellamkonda I am currently writing this from Kumarakom, Kerala, where I glanced at a blackboard in the lobby and realized I had lost 824 years. According to my phone, it is December 2025. But according to the board in front of me, the year is 1201 , the month is Dhanu , and the day is Njayar (Sunday). It was a jarring reminder. We tend to think of the date as a hard fact—like gravity or the speed of light. If I ask you what year it is, you don't hesitate. "It's 2025," you say. But that number isn't a fact. It’s a convention. It’s an agreement. ❖ The Misunderstanding: Time vs. Timing We often conflate time (the passage of moments) with timing (the grid we place over it). We assume the whole world marches to the same drumbeat. The truth is, for most of human history, "What is the...

I am currently writing this from Kumarakom, Kerala, not far from where the history of modern India took a sharp turn over 500 years ago. Growing up in India, our history lessons were dominated by the British Raj. We learned about the East India Company and the railways, but the Portuguese often felt like a footnote—the people who brought us chilies and potatoes. But standing here, looking at the waterways that once welcomed the world, I realize that Kochi was actually the "Ground Zero" of European colonization. It brings a difficult truth to light: The legendary Indian hospitality—that ingrained instinct to welcome the guest as a god ( Atithi Devo Bhava )—eventually backfired. ❖ The Shift from Trade to Conquest Trade itself was nothing new here. Long before Europe looked East, Arab merchants and Indian ships were crossing oceans in a peaceful exchange. Local rulers gave land for mosques and churches; differences were tolerated for the sake of commerce. It was a ...

The Newsreel War: When Tanks Were More Than Just Steel If you grew up in India in the 60s or 70s, you didn’t just go to the cinema for the movie. You went for the window to the world that came before it. I remember sitting in the dark, the smell of samosas in the air, waiting for the fanfare of the Indian News Review produced by the Films Division. Before the main feature started, these grainy, black-and-white documentaries brought the borders to us. They were our only visual link to the frontlines. That is where I first learned the name "Vijayanta." ❖ The Name That Meant Victory For a young boy, the technical specs didn't matter. We didn't know it was a licensed Vickers Mk.1 design. What mattered was the name. Vijayanta means "Victorious." It was the first indigenous tank of the Indian Army, a symbol that we could build our own protectors. The plaque in the photo I took recently at the Kannur Cantonment (below) tells the official s...

I was reading the news on my tablet this morning, and it occurred to me: you can’t line a shelf with an iPad. You certainly can't wrap a textbook in a Kindle. We mourn the decline of print journalism for intellectual reasons, but I mourn the loss of the physical object. In my childhood, the news was just the newspaper's first job. Its real career began after 9:00 AM. ❖ The Misunderstanding: It Wasn't Just for Reading The common wisdom is that a newspaper is a vehicle for information. Once you read the headlines, its value drops to zero. That is incorrect. In the Indian middle-class household of the 80s and 90s, the newspaper was a structural component of our lives. The Shift: The Multi-Utility Tool The newspaper was the ultimate household hack before "life hacks" became a YouTube category. Its lifecycle was fascinatingly specific. 1. The Interior Decor Every cement shelf and Godrej cupboard in the house was lined with The Hindu ...

Dhurandhar: Why We're Obsessed With Stories We Haven't Actually Questioned Dhurandhar: Why We're Obsessed With Stories We Haven't Actually Questioned ReadyThoughts | December 24, 2025 I watched the trailers. The cinematography is stunning. Vikash Nowlakha's work deserves that word. The songs move. The ensemble cast—Ranveer Singh, Akshaye Khanna, Sanjay Dutt—are performing at peak levels. The box office numbers don't lie: nearly $110 million worldwide. Banned in six nations. Court cases. Death threats to critics. And yet, I haven't seen the film. That may sound cowardly. It's not. ❖ The Misunderstanding: More Information = Better Understanding The internet has convinced us that access to data equals insight. A trailer? You've seen the film. Box office numbers? You understand the narrative. Wikipedia synopsis? You're qualifi...

Fresh off my thoughts on the Priyadarshi starrer Mithra , I found myself clicking play on Premante on Netflix the very next day. Maybe it was the algorithm, or maybe it was just good timing. I usually sit with the remote in hand, thumb hovering over the "forward" button. Modern cinema seems to have confused "intensity" with "gore." If I am not skipping a ten-minute bloodshed sequence, I am usually wincing through it. ❖ The "Pan-India" Fatigue The common wisdom in today's entertainment industry is that to be a "hit," you need high stakes, mass violence, and a hero who looks like he was carved out of granite, sitting high above the audience on a pedestal of slow-motion shots. We are told this is what we want. We are told we want "escapism" that looks like a war zone. But Premante proves that sometimes, the best escape is just... life. A kaleidoscope of romance, adventure, and comedy th...

There is a profound, quiet thrill in sitting in your living room and seeing a friend’s soul projected onto the screen. In the latest Malayalam cinematic offering, Dominic and the Ladies' Purse , that face belonged to my dear friend Viji Venkatesh . As Madhuri, the chic and benevolent landlady, Viji is a revelation. She brings a natural, unforced grace to the screen that anchors the film’s central mystery, acting as the unexpected catalyst for a journey that is as much about human connection as it is about a missing accessory. Knowing Viji’s tireless work off-screen—as a board member for The Max Foundation and the heart behind Chai for Cancer —seeing her inhabit the role of Madhuri felt like a bridge between her real-world empathy and the storytelling magic of Kochi. Her performance isn't just "acting"; it’s a presence that feels lived-in and authentic, reminding us that the most compelling characters are often those who feel like they could walk off the scree...

The Ink Stained Memories of a Magazine Childhood For many of us who grew up in India, the arrival of a favorite magazine was a weekly or monthly highlight. These publications, such as The Week , were more than just news; they were windows into a wider world that provided lasting personal satisfaction. ❖ A Legacy of Storytelling Our coffee tables were once defined by the Illustrated Weekly of India (founded 1880), Filmfare (1952), and Femina (1959). Reader’s Digest was a staple for many households. The media landscape shifted with the arrival of India Today (1975) and The Week (1982), which introduced a new depth to investigative journalism. The Enduring Value of the Physical Copy Even today, there is a unique joy in holding a paper copy while traveling in India. While many magazines have disappeared, the power of long form narrative remains essential. Subhanghi Shah’s recent report in The Week, "Greening of the Thar: A blessing or a curse for India's...

Overlooking the Reviews: Why I Loved "Mithra Mandali" I recently watched the Telugu film "Mithra Mandali" on Amazon Prime, and despite what the critics say, I loved it. It is humorous, silly, and totally ridiculous—the kind of movie where you can just let go and laugh. If you want to understand the nuances of the Telugu language—especially the Telangana dialect —this is a must-watch. Even if you don't understand the words, the physical comedy and situational timing come through so clearly that you'll laugh just watching it with English subtitles. ❖ Overlooking the Critical Reception The movie did not receive glowing reviews from professional critics. Many described it as a "mediocre buddy comedy" with a weak script, and it currently holds a polarized rating of 5.6/10 on BookMyShow. Critics often pointed to forced humor or a "dragged-out second half". However, I believe these reviews often miss the point of th...

Sounds of Life I am currently in Hyderabad, India. My journey has been split between two worlds: the United States and India. This balance has given me a unique perspective on how life announces itself each day, regardless of where I am standing. ❖ The Hyderabad Chorus The first morning after landing in India, I always wake up to what I can only describe as the "sounds of life." It is an active, communal beginning. Before the sun has fully claimed the sky, there is the rhythmic sound of early morning sweeping in front of homes and the refreshing splash of water on the ground. As the neighborhood stirs, the layers of sound build: the light hum of early traffic, the occasional horn, the chatter of sparrows, and the cooing of silent doves. It is a world that greets you before you even step outside. The Maryland Stillness Contrast this to my mornings at home in Maryland. Waking up there is defined by a profound, private silence. The world o...

The Canvas of Gold: When a Nation Finally Buys Its Own Soul There is a famous hierarchy of needs. First, you buy food. Then, you buy a roof (Real Estate). Then, you buy safety (Gold). But what happens when a nation has secured all three? They start buying Beauty . I was thrilled to read a new report from Bloomberg today highlighting that the Indian art market is surging. Fueled by rising wealth, collectors are swapping stock portfolios for canvases. This isn't just about money; it is a signal that Indian wealth is looking for identity, not just security. ❖ The "Gram Yatra" Moment For decades, the global art world looked at Indian Modernists with polite interest but rarely opened their checkbooks wide. That changed in March 2025. M.F. Husain’s monumental painting, Untitled (Gram Yatra) , sold for a record-breaking $13.7 million . It wasn't just a sale; it was a statement. The painting, which celebrates the rural soul of India, was rec...

In the clamor of the professional world, I have always harbored a persistent question: Is the quiet listener ultimately more successful than the loudest voice in the room? We often equate leadership with volume. We assume influence belongs to those who dominate the airspace. Yet, looking back on my journey, the philosophies that truly guided me didn't come from shouting; they came from understanding human nature. ❖ The Foundations of Quiet Influence My foundation was built on two monumental works: Dale Carnegie's How to Win Friends and Influence People and Tom Peters' In Search of Excellence . These weren't just business manuals; they were blueprints for navigating life with empathy and effectiveness. They distilled complex professional relationships into clear guiding principles that I strove to internalize: Think Positive: Mindset is the first hurdle. The Power of "We": Success is rarely solo. Always credit the team...

We think of it as ancient culture. The data says it is a modern economic multiplier. The Sanskrit phrase "Atithi Devo Bhava" (The Guest is God) is often dismissed as just a warm, fuzzy cultural sentiment or a government poster at the airport. But if you look at the balance sheets of the Indian economy, it reveals itself as something far more powerful: a high-leverage economic asset. When a culture fundamentally believes that serving a guest is a divine duty, it doesn't just create good hosts. It creates a massive, resilient Service Economy. ❖ 1. The Hard Numbers (The Visible Economy) The most direct application of this philosophy is, of course, tourism. The "Atithi Devo Bhava" campaign was launched to convert this cultural instinct into professional standards—training taxi drivers, guides, and police to treat tourists with safety and respect. The economic receipts are staggering: GDP Contribution: The travel and tourism se...