From Writing Code to Writing Job Descriptions to Writing Life Sutras

We all like to believe that our expertise speaks for itself. That if we just share enough knowledge—facts, frameworks, strategies—the world will listen, appreciate, and maybe even applaud.  

But here’s the truth: people don’t connect with expertise alone. They connect with stories.  

And yet, sharing our personal journey? That’s the hard part.  

It feels easier to stay in the realm of insights, avoid talking about ourselves, and just focus on “delivering value.” But the reality is, if we don’t bring our own story into the conversation, there is no real connection. Because at the end of the day, no matter how intellectual or strategic a topic might seem, what truly resonates with people is the human element.  

I didn’t always see it this way. In fact, for a long time, I was one of those people who thought “Just let the knowledge do the talking.” But life has a way of teaching us otherwise.  

The Indian Tech Dream: From Logic to Leadership  

Growing up in India, career planning was a team sport.  

And by team, I mean a council of Indian uncles.  

These were not just blood relatives but any older Indian man within a 5-kilometer radius, all of whom had strong opinions about your future.  

The formula was simple:  

1. Study Computer Science.  

2. Move to the USA.  

3. Work in tech and make your family proud.  

4. Buy a house, preferably near other Indian uncles, so they can continue giving career advice.  

And so, like a good Indian boy, I followed the script. I moved to the USA, got my master’s in Computer Science, and landed in the world of tech.  

For a while, life was straightforward—just code, debug, optimize.  

Then, one day, you walked into the office, and everything had changed.

The tech industry was in a different state of evolution back then. Leadership shifts weren’t big announcements—they were just another Monday. One day, you were deep in your codebase, and the next, you were not just an engineer anymore.

• You were still coding, but also managing teams.

• You were still debugging software, but also meeting clients and negotiating procurement deals.

• You were writing job descriptions, reviewing résumés, and handling parts of HR—except HR wasn’t screening candidates for you. They just dropped résumés on your desk, and you had to figure it out.

• So, you took candidates out for lunch—not for a structured interview, but to get a gut feel for whether they fit.

  
  

It was part engineering, part hiring, part insurance negotiations, part procurement—somehow, you were doing it all. And no one questioned whether you were qualified. No one thought much about it. It was just the way things worked in many tech companies.

There were no formal transitions, no structured handovers—just a constant state of adaptation. One day you were writing code, the next you were making hiring decisions, and before you even realized it, you were in "talent acquisition"—well… even that word was unheard of. No one even used that word.

From the USA to Latin America: Learning to Feel, Not Just Think  

Then, life threw another twist.  

I moved to France for an MBA. Then Brazil.  

I did an exchange program at FGV in São Paulo, threw myself into learning Portuguese (badly, at first), and somewhere along the way—started dating someone who happened to be Brazilian.  

And that’s when I really started experiencing Brazilian culture—not as a tourist, but as someone trying to understand it from the inside.  

Because dating isn’t just about getting to know a person—it’s about getting to know their entire cultural world.  

And this is where my entire perspective on hiring, business, and life began to shift.  

In the USA, everything was intellectual. Hiring was about skills, experience, and structured decision-making.  

Latin America? Completely different mindset.  

Here, business wasn’t just about credentials—it was about emotion, energy, connection. You didn’t just assess a candidate’s qualifications; you felt whether they fit. The corporate world had a rhythm, a cultural depth that you had to tune into.  

And it wasn’t just professional—it was personal.  

Then came the kid.  

Everything changed. Priorities shifted. Corporate ambitions took a backseat to figuring out custody agreements, creating a stable environment, and navigating an entirely new culture—not as an expat, but as a parent.  

And in that process, I found myself drawn into career coaching. Not just helping people get jobs, but helping them understand who they were in the professional world.  

The Spiritual Thread: From India to the Amazon  

But this shift wasn’t just geographic or professional. It was deeply spiritual too.  

Growing up, I had been immersed in Indian spiritual traditions—meditation, chanting, classical music. These weren’t just rituals; they were ways of seeing the world.  

But in Latin America, I encountered another kind of spiritual depth.  

I spent time in the Peruvian Amazon, exploring shamanic traditions—not as a tourist, but as someone genuinely seeking clarity. It was a process of unraveling, of working through my own inner layers, and realizing that career transitions, leadership, and talent development weren’t just business concepts. They were rites of passage.  

Because what is a career change if not a transformation?  

What is leadership if not a deeper understanding of the self?  

 From Talent Acquisition to Personal Branding Sutras  

Everything finally came together.  

- The engineer in me still loved structure.  

- The hiring manager in me knew that recruitment was more than just a checklist—it was an art.  

- The seeker in me saw careers not just as jobs, but as paths of transformation.  

And that’s why I do what I do today.  

Now, I don’t just write job descriptions. I help people write their own career sutras.  

I don’t just optimize résumés. I help people articulate their professional identity.  

And if there’s one thing I’ve learned from all of this, it’s this:  

We don’t connect with expertise alone. We connect with stories.  

And if we want to build teams, careers, or businesses that actually mean something, we have to be willing to tell our own stories—and listen to others.  

So that’s my story. And now that you know mine, I’d love to hear yours....

Becuase At the heart of every great hire is a story—one that belongs to both the candidate and the company. A resume isn’t just a list of achievements; it’s a narrative of growth, resilience, and purpose. Likewise, a job description isn’t just a checklist of duties; it’s an invitation into a shared vision.

Individuals must own their journeys, crafting their professional stories with honesty and clarity. Organizations, too, must articulate their identity—not through grand proclamations or empty evangelism, but through a grounded, authentic voice that resonates with the right people.

This is not just a framework. It’s not a theory. And no, I am no missionary. This is my heart and my message: Individuals and organizations find their true connection when they tell their stories with truth. When they step beyond the script, beyond the jargon, and speak in a voice that is unmistakably theirs.

Because when both sides tell their stories with authenticity, that’s where real hiring happens. That’s where the right candidate finds the right company—not just as a transaction, but as a moment of recognition. A meeting of paths. A shared purpose. And in the end, isn’t that what great hiring is all about?