When Life Doesn’t Have a “Buy Now” Button :




One child proudly showed another a sticker journal she had been working on for weeks. The other child, feeling uneasy, rushed home and asked her mom to order 2000 stickers at the click of a button. She ran back to Child A and said, “Hah! Now I will make a better sticker journal than you.”

Feeling dejected, Child A turned to her mom, tearful. “She got 2000 stickers from Amazon for just 200 Rs. I’ve been working on my journal for so long—can we please order them too?” The mother hesitated. The amount wasn’t significant, and her child had been dedicated to her journal. But was feeding into instant gratification the right move? Would it set a precedent for wanting more, faster?

It was difficult to explain delayed gratification to a 10-year-old, but something had to be done. Instead, she fed the need for instant gratification in a different way. She took her daughter to a garden and asked, “Can we grow a beautiful tree overnight?” Her child shook her head. “Some things take time,” the mother said, handing her a packet of seeds. “Why don’t we plant these together and watch them grow?” The act of planting created excitement, and as they watered the soil, the urgency over stickers faded.

The Rise of Quick Commerce

Quick commerce has reshaped consumer expectations. Initially focused on groceries and medicines, it has expanded to lifestyle products, fueled by changing habits and hyperlocal logistics. Search trends like “15-minute delivery” and “fastest online shopping” surged post-pandemic, reflecting a growing expectation for speed across all categories. Companies like Zepto, Blinkit, and Swiggy Instamart capitalized on this shift, making near-instant shopping a norm. Businesses thrive on fulfilling this instant demand, yet the long-term effects on consumer psychology remain largely unexplored.

Quick Commerce and the Brain: Rewiring for Instant Gratification

Instant gratification triggers dopamine, reinforcing a craving for speed. As everything—from food to fashion—is delivered in minutes, patience erodes. The constant cycle of rapid rewards can alter how we perceive time, making even brief waits feel frustrating. This racing mindset can heighten stress and anxiety, making inevitable delays—like airport security, job hunts, or college admissions—feel unbearable.

The Link Between a Racing Lifestyle and Mental Health

The shift toward hyper-efficiency mirrors a broader societal trend—one where speed is equated with success. But this acceleration has consequences. Studies suggest that the inability to tolerate waiting correlates with higher stress levels and a reduced ability to handle setbacks. If everything arrives instantly, what happens when life demands patience?

The Inescapable Wait: Airports, Jobs, and College Admissions

Some processes cannot be rushed. Air travel, job applications, and college admissions all demand time and uncertainty. Yet, as quick commerce fosters an expectation of immediacy, frustration with these unavoidable waits intensifies. Can we sustain a mindset that tolerates delayed rewards when much of our daily life now revolves around instant delivery?

The Impact on Deep Work and Focus

Tasks requiring long periods of concentration—writing, scientific research, skill-building—are at odds with an environment built for speed. If a generation grows up expecting instant outcomes, will they struggle with deep work and perseverance? The ability to focus for extended periods is already waning, with constant digital interruptions reshaping attention spans.

Will We Lose the Ability to Wait?

Patience is a muscle that needs to be exercised. Without it, frustration replaces resilience. While quick commerce enhances convenience, it also risks weakening our ability to tolerate delays, setbacks, and the natural rhythms of life.

Before You Click on the Next 10-Minute Delivery, Ask Yourself:

In a race, speed is rewarded—but is life truly a race? And to which finishing line is this speed taking us?


#QuickCommerce #InstantGratification #PatienceVsSpeed #RewiringOurBrains #ConsumerBehavior #FastButAtWhatCost #DigitalAgeDilemma #HyperEfficiency #AttentionSpanCrisis #DelayedGratification #RacingMindset #DeepWork #FutureOfWaiting




In early 2021, Sneha Sharma from Delhi decided to finally take the leap and buy her first electric car. She had carefully compared options online, read reviews, and visited showrooms. But when she got the vehicle home, uncertainty hit like a thunderbolt.


“Where do I charge this thing if I run out of battery on the highway? What if the app stops working mid-journey?” she fretted. She opened her phone and Googled “nearest EV charging station in Delhi NCR.” The results were anything but reassuring—half the stations listed were either under maintenance or located in sketchy, inaccessible areas.

Despite its futuristic promise, the electric vehicle brand she trusted had left a glaring gap: no clear or reliable infrastructure to support her new lifestyle. What was supposed to be a bold step toward the future became a stressful experiment fraught with uncertainty.

But Sneha wasn't alone in her encounter with ambiguity. Around the same time, Ramesh Patel, a father from Ahmedabad, found himself in a similar bind—but with his son's education. When schools went virtual during the pandemic, Ramesh received conflicting instructions on login times, assessment protocols, and learning schedules. One day, the school announced that final exams might be canceled—but then hinted at a last-minute reversal. "We were on edge for months," Ramesh said. "I had no clarity on how my son's academic year would be evaluated."

Whether it’s electric cars or education, Sneha’s and Ramesh’s experiences reflect a lesson many institutions overlook—uncertainty is a psychological stressor that drives people away.

Uncertainty as a Psychological Stress Factor

Psychology 101 teaches us that uncertainty triggers anxiety. The human brain craves predictability, even in the smallest interactions. When brands and schools introduce ambiguity—whether in pricing, scheduling, or evaluation methods—they inadvertently create a negative experience.

The COVID-19 pandemic made this lesson painfully real. As lockdowns swept across the globe, search queries spiked for “is online school effective,” “how will CBSE exams be conducted,” and “is it safe to send kids back to school?” These searches highlight a simple truth: in moments of crisis, people seek clarity and reassurance above all else.

Smart schools recognised this and adapted. Some issued transparent guidelines for virtual classes and communicated exam policies early on. But many institutions missed the memo, leaving parents and students grappling with confusion.

What exacerbates this situation is that uncertainty which was earlier episodic is now woven into everyday life. From economic volatility and fluctuating interest rates to health concerns and unpredictable school schedules, people are constantly grappling with ambiguity. This socio-economic turbulence has raised the stakes for brands and service providers—people seek clarity as a refuge from chaos. People can’t afford to navigate services that add complexity to already uncertain lives.

The Brands That Understood the Assignment—and Those That Didn't

One game-changing factor was the rise of "certainty-first" product and service features.
Some brands responded wisely to this growing demand for certainty. Paytm, for instance, won over users by offering instant payment confirmations, transparent refund processes, and reliable error messages. Banking apps followed suit with real-time transaction updates and grocery delivery services added live order tracking. These seemingly minor adjustments tapped into a profound psychological need and earned loyalty.

On the other hand, airlines missed the mark spectacularly. During the pandemic, vague refund policies and shifting flight schedules left passengers helpless. Search queries for “how to get airline refund India” spiked by over 400%. This lack of transparency cost carriers customer trust that still hasn't fully recovered. 

The rise of uncertainty-driven searches during and after the pandemic underscores a universal truth: people gravitate toward organisations that provide clarity and reassurance.

The Illusion of Agility

However, not all brands learned the right lesson. Some repackaged uncertainty as agility and flexibility. Terms like "dynamic pricing," "real-time scheduling," and "adaptive assessment models" were euphemisms for erratic service.

Sneha Sharma wasn't interested in "dynamic charging solutions"—she simply wanted to know where to power her car. Ramesh Patel didn’t want "adaptive assessment models"—he wanted clarity on his son's academic future.

Consumers today don’t need agility; they need assurance. Product and service brands that recognise this truth and deliver certainty-first experiences will thrive in an unpredictable world. Certainty isn’t just a competitive advantage—it’s a fundamental human need.

And just like a rose by any other name would still smell as sweet, uncertainty by any other name still creates turbulence in people’s lives.

#UncertaintyKills #AgilityOrChaos #ConsumerClarity #CertaintyFirst #BrandTrust #TransparencyMatters #StressFreeSolutions #ClearCommunication #TheCostOfUncertainty

Teaching Children to Think Less: The AI Dilemma



“Mama, can we get an Alexa?” Yes, it’s 2025, and we’re still living without Alexa—or any of its competing devices.
“Why do you need Alexa?” I asked.
“So that when I’m reading, I can ask Alexa for words I don’t know.”
“What do you do now when you don’t know the meanings of words?”
“I try to figure out the meaning through the context.”
“That’s called 'inferring'.”
“Can you imagine what would happen when we get Alexa at home? I’d stop inferring.”
“How does inferring help you?”
“I can guess the meanings of so many new words, even when I first encounter them.”
“Yes, and if you start asking Alexa, your brain won’t be doing that anymore. Alexa is just 'searching' and dispensing information.”

Can you imagine what AI could do with its generative capacity when children as young as six or seven are exposed to it? ChatGPT is everyone's favorite new tool these days—whether it’s the 40-something homemaker looking for a quick parenting tip, the busy executive too rushed to write their own emails, or the student typing, “Give me 5 real-world examples of Newton’s 1st Law of Motion.”
Last week, I was introduced to two new concepts: "cognitive offloading" and "cognitive hygiene." If we continue to offload more and more of our thinking to ChatGPT or similar platforms, we must start considering how we will balance the cognitive depletion that comes with it.

Before we rush to expose children to these tools in the name of responsible digital access, let’s not forget the story of the young man who couldn’t finish his sentences in a job interview. When asked what was wrong, he sheepishly admitted that he was used to ChatGPT doing it for him.

While AI has great potential, it's important to use it thoughtfully. I’ve seen AI tools effectively bridge learning gaps, like language apps that map sounds to letters. It’s the purposeful use of AI that holds promise, rather than unfettered, access that could inadvertently diminish the very cognitive skills we seek to enhance. 

AI, Political systems and a Quick Lesson on acceptance from a machine.


The other day, while chatting with my daughter about the difference between authoritarian and totalitarian regimes, we decided to ask ChatGPT for its take on North Korea. It initially called North Korea an authoritarian regime, but my 10-year-old quickly pointed out, "No, it’s totalitarian!"


We asked ChatGPT again, and it corrected itself. My daughter, always quick to notice things, said, “See, mama, it’s covering up for its mistake.” 

I explained that AI doesn’t have an ego like humans—it’s not trying to defend itself. It just learns and updates based on the feedback it gets. No pride to hurt, just a chance to get it right.

This little moment was a reminder that it's okay to make mistakes and adjust—whether you're an AI or a person. We don’t have to be perfect, but we can be open to learning and improving. In the real or the virtual world what often saves the day is not - being right all the time but being willing to learn and adapt.

It is no surprise how children learn that 'mistakes need to be covered up'. It is hard to raise children in a society that penalises mistakes. Even if they are in a family or a school, which does not penalise all mistakes, inadvertently, in some situation - this thought seeps through to them - from other children, well-meaning neighbours and random strangers. It is difficult to reverse this thought once it takes root in one's mind. But certainly possible to replace it with a more accepting one. 

In one set of the research observations we conducted in a few government schools in Bangalore, with an intervention that was meant to plug in learning gaps - the volunteers who went about this program told the children each time they made a mistake - "don't worry, mistakes can be rectified" - and showed them how to rectify the errors. In 'all' our conversations with the children, we heard them repeat this like a chant. 

Teaching kids that “mistakes can be rectified” is a simple yet powerful way to build resilience. It flips the narrative. Instead of fearing failure, it becomes a natural part of the learning process.

#AI #Leadership #Mistakes #growthmindset

What If We Reversed the Rules? Rethinking Gendered Childhood Games

I was at the park today, chatting with a mom when she shared a moment that stuck with me. She told me about watching a group of little boys in action—a common game, one boy shouting, “Fight!” and just like that, the others went at it. She laughed and mused about her own son, K, and how when he gets older, she won’t stop him if he wants to join in those games. “Boys need to learn how to fight,” she said. “It’s the only way they’ll survive in this world.”


But then, she went further. She talked about how we raise girls to "hang out with the right people," to surround themselves with kids from “nice homes with nice values.” It hit me—she was equating survival with fitting into these rigid, gendered roles. Boys fight, girls stay safe, and both need these skills to thrive.
I didn’t tell her anything. I have realised over the years that such beliefs are more about conditioning than about how educated or not a person is. As a generation, we grew up surrounded by such narratives all around us in popular culture. 

I left that conversation with this thought —what if we flipped the script, just for one generation? 

Maybe it’s time to rethink what it truly means to grow up in today’s world. 

And while I looked for an image to add to this post, I only found images with men dressed as women and vice versa and there in lies another reason for why one has to think of this subject in a more nuanced way. Rethinking stereotypes is not merely changing costumes but thinking of how men can balance the yang and women their yin energy.

'Ellare mane dose thuthu.’ (The dosa in every home has holes)

 

I first encountered these words during a research interview when a mother, troubled by a conflict at home, shared a deeply personal situation with me. As a researcher, I’m given a unique and privileged lens into the lives of others: the way children are raised, the struggles parents face, and the challenges families navigate every day. It’s an invaluable perspective, one that’s helped me realize something profound—that the struggles we face at home often feel personal and isolating, as though we’re the only ones going through them. But when we hear others' stories, it becomes clear that these challenges are far more universal than we think. What initially feels like a private problem transforms into a shared experience.

This realization is a gift. It brings comfort and normalizes the messiness of life, particularly childhood. We begin to understand that these ups and downs—like the fighting, the tears, or the distance between children—are not isolated incidents. They are part of the human condition. Every second child is experiencing similar things. And more importantly, it’s not a reflection of something inherently wrong with our children—it’s simply because they are children, and other children are too. We, as parents and adults, are stressed, overburdened, and often caught in the crossfire of expectations—whether from our own parents or society.

So, I gently reassured the mother, who was clearly weighed down by her situation, that these struggles are not hers alone. They happen in homes across the world. The feelings of frustration, the emotional distance between children, the confusion and misunderstandings—it’s not just her child. It’s part of growing up, part of the parenting journey. And when I said this, it seemed to resonate with her. In that moment, she smiled and replied with words I’ll never forget: 'Ellare mane dose thuthu.'

Loosely translated, it means 'The dosa in every home has holes.' This simple phrase hit me like a quiet epiphany. It’s a powerful metaphor that I will always carry with me. In just a few words, she conveyed something profound about life, about childhood, and about imperfection. Those holes in the dosa—those little gaps and imperfections—aren’t something to be ashamed of or hidden away. In fact, they’re what make the dosa enjoyable.

Just like life, a dosa without holes would be flat, heavy, and dense. The holes—the pauses, the imperfections, the moments of tension—are what make it light, airy, and ultimately satisfying. They are the spaces we’re given to breathe, to reflect, to slow down, and to course-correct.

The phrase shows us that life is complete—notwithstanding the holes. Most importantly, it’s a reminder that if we focus too much on the holes, we may lose sight of enjoying the dosa.

#ParentingJourney #FamilyStruggles #ImperfectLife #UniversalChallenges #TheParentingReal #LifeWithKids #SharedExperience #ChildhoodImperfections #ParentingTruths #ParenthoodUnfiltered #LearningThroughStories #qualitativeresearchindia #qualitativeresearchstories

Why the bloody hell are you here - how communication is decoded

 It was 2006 when I had first seen the Australian tourism ad and I remember it to date. The bold copy caught my attention and it also was quite unlike any overly-crafted-full-of-beautiful-things tourism ad.


This is what my mind registered of the ad since the precursor to this ad was an article titled - curse at them, they will come? The title of the article was the lense through which I perceived that ad. Having done that, I started spinning my own yarn.

What a quaint way to get people to their country…compare this to the effort launched by the Indian tourism authorities, preaching all and one to treat the guest as God, this was rather bold !!!

Why would someone go to their country I wondered? They are a plain-speaking and friendly lot. Maybe that is what they wish to project through the advertising.

And that is how most communication gets decoded.

A thought experiment on communication decoding

Fast forward 17 years, yesterday morning I randomly watched the Rajasthan tourism ad (complete coincidence it was about tourism again :)

After a few seconds of watching, the thought that crossed my mind was

Pehle woh giri, ab yeh bhi girega (First she fell, next he will). I couldn’t stop laughing. I wanted to change the Monday morning mood for a few of my friends and sent it to them.

A fitness enthusiast said

“This guy has to be incredibly fit to carry her all through the honeymoon”

A senior citizen said

“40 years after marriage, you’ll start wondering…Aisa bhi hota hai kya?!!

A brand-led growth specialist said…

TG: Rich NRIs, so they got that right.

It begins with her ankle breaking so you get hooked on. And they’ve stitched different parts of Rajasthan nicely in the story. Showing how he cares about her brings up emotions. Music and lyrics are typical and boring in Rajasthani style, but people will remember khamma ghani which is the signature they want people to remember.

Tg part- by showing an NRI girl with a white guy, they’ve made it relevant for NRIs, white people and Indians

Someone who works with underprivileged girls to restore agency said…

I think the ad only caters to people who want to splurge and get married in Rajasthan. And it doesn't quite capture everything Rajasthan offers. The art is missing entirely, it's only romanticized as a 'love destination' which is so reductive.

Of course, there's the damsel in distress and saviour narrative too, which is cringy, but theek hai, at least they look like they're in love and nothing wrong with that too. Bachara itna mehnat कर raha hai.

Tourism का ad kam, Made In Heaven season 3 का ad zyada hai.

A storyteller and a documentary filmmaker said…

Bandish Bandits

Do you see the connection between the ‘who’ and the ‘what was said’

Bottom line - we see the same stimulus using the lens that matters to us the most and we spin our own yarn  And that is how most communication gets decoded. This lens might change depending on the shift in values, what is top of mind or a trigger situation or an unforgettable memory and the same person might think of the same stimuli differently at different points in time depending on which fragment of thought he/she pulls out of his/her subconscious mind at that moment. I have seen this happen even when people read print material - books, posters etc - the same message gets interpreted differently. 

Memory is not static, memory is constructed - subtly different each time you recall an incident. Likewise, reality is also not static, but a construct of our mind. 

In my case, I had a foot fracture on a holiday a few years ago while walking down the steps! And my mind could not ignore those steps in the Rajasthan tourism ad.

Why I say most communication and not all, is because there is another interesting way in which communication gets encoded - which is playback. But that takes a big fat media budget and the same message being heard/seen over multiple exposures. That is why we still remember   

Sunday ho yaan Monday roz khao Anday - a tagline from the 1980s when life and media vehicles were uncluttered.

I have seen the instrument of ‘playback’ working very well these days, not in the context of communication but in the context of narrative building that happens through the informal flow of information that moves across social media vehicles, endorsed by celebrity opinion leaders and regurgitated by individuals who simply buy into that story without verifying the fact. Since that is the beauty of playback. Superfoods that come as pills and capsules - remember Ginseng?

When a big company tells its unsuspecting consumers that its bottled spread is full of the freshest fruit with the goodness of vitamins, most of India believes it since subliminally the message seeps in and gets reinforced and hardwired over and over again - unless you have reason to doubt or question it.

Coming back to the Australian tourism ad which I misinterpreted. It was actually something like this…

The ad begins with characters saying: "We've poured you a beer and we've had the camels shampooed, we've saved you a spot on the beach ... and we've got the sharks out of the pool."

A bikini-clad woman then asks….

I hope this is a story you will not forget. So the next time you are planning to use your communication budget, if you know in advance whether it is a playback you are expecting or a spin-a-yarn in return, that could change the way your communication is designed.