“I grew up in Chennai, and I think this city shaped me more than I realized while growing up.

I’m 32 now, and most people know me as a bartender; but bartending became much more than just making drinks for me. It became a way of understanding people. I’ve worked across bars, restaurants, fitness spaces, events, and hospitality. Somewhere along the way, I realized I’m deeply fascinated by human behavior – what people celebrate, what they hide, what they drink when they’re heartbroken, and how strangers become friends over one conversation across a counter.

Some of my biggest lessons came from watching people late at night. You see every version of humanity in this line of work – joy, loneliness, confidence, insecurity, love, ego, vulnerability. I think bartending made me less judgmental and more observant.

One turning point was realizing that external validation is a very dangerous addiction.

In hospitality and nightlife, you’re constantly surrounded by stimulation – loud music, people, attention, celebration. And for a while, you can confuse being seen with being fulfilled. But somewhere over the last few years, I started noticing that the moments that genuinely stayed with me were much quieter.

Like sitting alone after closing a bar. Or practicing the same sitar note for an hour – I’ve been learning from a 91-year-old teacher. Or going without sugar just to prove to myself that discipline matters more than cravings. Or having a real conversation with someone who felt invisible all day.

I used to think success meant becoming bigger and louder. Now I think it’s more about becoming calmer and more honest with yourself. I recently completed a Vipassana, and I think a part of me is constantly trying to balance chaos with stillness.

I’m still figuring life out. But that shift changed the way I look at almost everything.

Chennai feels like contrast to me.

Filter coffee and Old Monk. Temple bells and traffic noise. Humidity and sea breeze.

Some of the most beautiful moments I’ve had in this city happen late at night – driving back home after a long shift when the roads are empty, or standing at Marina when the city finally becomes quiet for a few minutes.

Chennai doesn’t try too hard to impress you. But one day, without realizing it, it starts feeling impossible to leave.

And maybe that’s why it feels like home.”