Prashant Ivaturi

If Hyderabad Can Dream This Big, So Can You

2026-09-08T14:14:36.302+05:30

Observing this marathon from the inside for five years has made me aware of it's vision, hard work, and what Indian running can become.

I have a front-row seat to something extraordinary every August.

Not from the stands. Not from the sidelines. From the inside.

As a runner who joined Hyderabad Runners Society in 2018. As a volunteer and part of the organizing team since 2021. As the official anchor on stage since 2022 for the NMDC Hyderabad Marathon . And this year, for the first time, as the live telecast host - watching three simultaneous races unfold across two venues from a television studio.

Five years, multiple roles and one consistent observation.

Every single year, this event gets bigger, better, and more ambitious than the year before.

Cricket has its Harsha Bhogles and Ravi Shastris - voices that do not just describe the game but illuminate it. People who bring the viewer closer to the sport by understanding it more deeply than almost anyone else.

Marathon running in India does not have that yet.

I believe it should. And I believe the path to that voice runs through events like this one - through years of running,

watching, learning, asking questions, and earning the right to tell the story properly. This is one of those stories.

And that does not happen by accident.

The vision starts before the previous edition ends

Shortly after the 14th edition wrapped up, I sat in the car with Race Director Rajesh Vetcha .

Most people in his position would have been exhaling. Celebrating. Taking stock.

He was already talking about the 15th and how visualized it should be organized.

He spoke about wanting both lanes of the road open to runners. About an Inclusion Run that would bring persons with disabilities onto the same course as elite athletes. About sustainability not as a theme on a banner but as a standard the event would be measured against globally.

He was not brainstorming. He was planning.

That conversation stayed with me. Because what it revealed was not just ambition. It was a way of operating. A refusal to treat the previous edition as the ceiling. I sat there admiring and wondering how could a man, who had seen so many editions of this event still be so enthusiastic and passionate about it? Was he not tired? He must be crazily in love with the sport and what it's potential could mean for the city, it's community and the country.

That restlessness, that dedication - that constant asking of what would it look like if we thought bigger - is the culture that fifteen years of building has created at Hyderabad Runners Society (HRS).

What I see that most runners never do

On race day, thirty-two thousand runners experience the surface of something extraordinarily deep.

They see the start arch. The hydration points. The cheering squads. The finish line. The medal. I see what went into all of that.

I have watched the organizing teamwork for months before a single bib is printed. I have been at the pre-race press conferences, T-shirt and medal launches. I have spoken to the people managing routes, elite athletes, volunteers, charities, corporate partnerships, city engagement, timing, medical teams, the expo, the start area, the finish area, and everything in between. I have learnt about the calls and messages at midnight, the last-minute decisions on race morning, the quiet problem-solving that happens while everyone else is focused on running.

This year alone - construction was ongoing at multiple points along the route. Several young adults in the city had an important examination to attend and police had to deploy personnel accordingly. Rain threatened to derail the entire event. The live telecast had streaming issues in the first few minutes. Every one of these challenges was handled, calmly and professionally, by a team that had planned for them and for the things that could not be planned for.

That is what months of preparation looks like when it meets race day reality.

And the volunteers - I need to say this clearly.

Some of the people who make this event possible every year are runners themselves. They could have been on the start line. They chose the barricade instead. They gave up their own race so that yours could be everything it should be. These are runners many of whom I have run with, whose accolades I applaud, who inspire and train others. And they volunteer - not for personal gain, but for spreading the pure joy of this sport, and for pride that this event brings them.

I have no adequate words for that kind of generosity. But I have witnessed it, year after year, and it is one of the most quietly moving things I have ever seen in sport.

When the marathon is over, these volunteers turn ambassadors, spread all over the city and work with various communities to help other citizens adopt running as a healthy lifestyle. Some of them do it on their own, while others do it as part of the various initiatives of HRS.

What this edition achieved

The 15th edition of the NMDC Hyderabad Marathon was the largest in the event's history. Nearly 32,000 registrations. And this, after the organizing team capped off the 5K and 10K registrations to manage the numbers and closed registrations as early as in April. More participants in 10K, half marathon and full marathon categories. A full marathon field nearly double last year's size, and half marathon growing by nearly 50% the previous year. A statement about how quickly running is growing in this city and this country.

It was also the first marathon in India - and only the second in all of Asia - to receive the Silver Sustainability Label from Athletics for a Better World, the World Athletics initiative for responsible sporting events.

The first in India. Second in Asia. Read that again and let that sink in.

The SheRACES accreditation made it the first major Indian marathon to guarantee women-first facilities, equal prize money, and dedicated safety support. And in partnership with Adventures Beyond Barriers Foundation (ABBF), nearly 150 persons with disabilities and 150 volunteer allies participated across all four race categories. Fifty wheelchair participants in the 5K - for the first time in the event's history. 39 NGOs raised over two crore rupees through the charity program.

Race directors from Chicago, Stockholm, and Thailand's Bangsaen21 marathons were present - not as VIPs, but as advisors, as well as learners. Coming to Hyderabad to see how it is done and to continue to help improve it. That is how serious this marathon is about raising the bar every year. It is not just another running event in the city. It is a serious athletic event of the highest standard and an ever growing ambition.

This year's race amongst the elite runners was also one of the most closely fought ones. The top two winners were separated by 0.100 seconds after running India's toughest city marathon distance of 42.195 kms! It does not get any better than that in an endurance sport like this. Those who watched the elite runners would also feel pride that Indian elite runners gave their international counterparts a tough fight till the very last leg. Both Gopi Thonakal and Bhagirathi Bist ran very strong races.

And for the first time, a live telecast (which I had the privilege of leading). While the marathon was streamed live for the past few editions, the live YouTube telecast with commentary from the studio was a first (Watch it here).

Three races. Two venues. Broadcast to viewers who could not be there in person - because the story of this event deserves to be told beyond the people standing on the course. And the digital viewership numbers tell a story. The event has had more than three times the previous highest viewership till date and counting.

I know what runners across India say about this marathon. They say it is the best organized in the country. That verdict does not come from marketing. It comes from tens of thousands of people who experienced it and went home and told someone.

Other events say it too. Several other marathons look to Hyderabad Runners Society as the gold standard - for organization, for community, for what a running event can aspire to become.

What I want every race organizer in India to feel

I have been to the expo the day before. I have been on stage at 3:30 AM. I have been in the television studio watching the elite race unfold. I have been at the finish line when the last runners came through.

And through all of it, the thing that strikes me most is not the scale.

It is the purity of intent.

Every decision this team makes - from route planning to inclusion to sustainability to volunteer welfare - comes from a genuine commitment to doing right by the runners, the city, and the sport. There is no cutting corners. No good enough. No this will do.

Only: “how do we make this better?”

That philosophy, sustained over fifteen years, is what separates a race from a movement.

And here is what I want every race organiser reading this to know.

Hyderabad did not start here. It started with a small group of runners in 2005 who believed that a city could fall in love with running if someone created the right conditions. It started with a first edition that was a fraction of this scale. It got here by asking the same question every year - what would it look like if we thought bigger - and then doing the work to find out.

You can do the same.

Not by copying what Hyderabad has built. But by asking your own version of that question.

What would your event look like if you pursued a World Athletics label? If you designed the entire experience through the lens of inclusion? If you built a charity programme that gave forty organizations a reason to care about your race?

If you invested in your volunteers the way you invest in your elite athletes? How should local authorities, citizens and communities step up to embrace the marathon and make it truly their own?

What would your city's running community look like in fifteen years if you started asking those questions today?

India has the runners. The communities. The appetite. The stories waiting to be told.

What we need are more events willing to match that appetite with vision, purpose, and the sustained commitment to deliver on it - one edition at a time.

Hyderabad has not perfected the event. We are ambitious and on the path to make it bigger, better. But if Hyderabad can dream this big, so can you.

Start now.

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I have been a member of Hyderabad Runners Society since 2018, part of the organising and volunteering team since 2021, and the official anchor of the NMDC Hyderabad Marathon since 2022. To every member of the Hyderabad Marathon core team - what you build every year is extraordinary. Thank you for letting me be part of it.

A Flat Tyre at 2.30AM. Rain. 32,000 Runners. And a Live Television Debut.

2026-09-06T15:02:09.223+05:30

A bunch of stories from the 15th edition of the NMDC Hyderabad Marathon where I did something new, learnt of many stories, witnessed sportive spirit, sacrifice and service.

The morning of the 15th NMDC Hyderabad Marathon did not begin the way I had planned.

It began with a flat tyre.

It was dark. It was raining. Every shop was closed. There was not a mechanic in sight. And I had somewhere to be.

So I made a rather questionable decision.

Keep driving. And I thought to myself "Let's get there on time. We will figure out the tyre later."

The bigger worry, honestly, was the rain. Thirty-two thousand runners were counting on reasonable weather. We were all quietly hoping the rain gods would show some mercy.

And somehow, they did.

Just before race time, the rain stopped. A lovely breeze came in. The skies turned a perfect shade of cloudy grey.

Perfect running weather.

Inside the studio, however, the butterflies had only just begun.

A very different kind of hosting

For four consecutive years (this being the fifth), I have had the privilege to be the voice of the NMDC Hyderabad Marathon (both at the start are and the finish area). The energy, the excitement, the screaming. The crowd. The countdown. The collective adrenaline of thousands of runners pressed against a start arch at 4 AM.

This year was different. This year, I was in a studio.

Studio anchor. Live telecast. First time.

And nothing about it was simple.

This was our first time putting together a live telecast of this scale. There were streaming issues. Technical challenges. We started a few minutes later than planned. And then we discovered that the race itself had been delayed by ten minutes because of the incessant rain.

So, in true live television fashion, everything was unfolding at once. Feeds changing. Information updating. The rundown shifting in real time.

And then I went on air.

There is one rule in live television that overrides everything else.

You cannot get your facts wrong.

Not the timing. Not the runner's name. Not the course record. Not the kilometre marker. Every number, every name, every detail has to be right - and it has to be ready before you need it, because on live television, the moment has already passed by the time you remember to check.

It requires a different kind of preparation than stage anchoring.

No crowd energy to feed off. No runners standing beside you. No roar to carry you when the words do not come easily. Just an event flow, a script, a rundown, multiple live feeds, constantly changing information, and the quiet pressure of knowing that thousands of people are watching in real time.

I loved the new challenge, and loved every minute of hosting it alongside my co-host Mydhily Muralitharan .

Watch the replay of the entire telecast here on YouTube.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=49oea1IsPHw&t=650s

What was unfolding on the road

At 4:30 AM, the elite athletes were flagged off.

More than forty of them. And then they were simply gone - flying down the road with a rhythm and speed that makes you briefly forget that human beings are capable of moving like that.

At 4:35 AM, the mass start.

A sea of three thousand-plus full marathon runners. Nearly double last year's registrations. A huge statement for a World Athletics label race and for a city that has fallen deeply in love with running.

From the studio, I had a front-row seat to all of it - the 10K at HITEX, the full and half marathons beginning at People's Plaza, the command centre coordinating the entire operation, even a weather expert tracking conditions through colour-coded alerts.

And the stories kept coming.

Divyanshu Ganatra leading the Inclusion Run - a reminder that possibility does not wait for perfect circumstances. SheRACES bringing focus to safety and inclusion for women on the road. Thirty-nine NGOs using the marathon as a platform for causes that matter.

Race directors from Chicago, Stockholm, and Thailand's Bangsaen21 bringing perspectives from some of the world's great races. Runners in extraordinary costumes. First-timers with wide eyes at the start line. Fifty cheering squads stationed along the route, lifting tired legs through one more kilometre.

Divyanshu Ganatra from ABBF speaking at the 5K Fun Run a day before

An anchor does not merely announce what is happening. An anchor can change how people experience what is happening.

You can tell the most inspirational story in a completely dispassionate way and make it sound pedestrian. Or you can tell it with passion and compassion. When you do that, you energize the crowd. You lift spirits. You connect people to the cause. You give meaning to the moment.

There was no shortage of meaning on this morning. And it was all happening in quick time. So, we had to be on our toes,

The moment I will not forget

One moment, in particular, stayed with me long after the broadcast ended.

I interviewed Bhagirathi Bist after she finished second in the full marathon. She had led the pack of Elite runners and led the race till the 37th km (see image below).

Bhagirathi leading the elite runners

She completed the marathon in 2:40:36. A personal best (by over 16 seconds). An extraordinary performance by any measure.

And yet, when I spoke to her, she was sobbing.

Not from joy. From something closer to anguish.

She was apologizing to her coach. Telling him she had not done well enough. That she had let him down. That she should have been faster.

I remember standing there, watching her cry over a personal best that most runners would spend years chasing, and thinking: that is how harsh sport can be.

For most of us, a 2:40 marathon is almost unimaginable. For Bhagirathi, standing on the other side of that finish line, it felt like falling short.

Behind every timing, every medal, every podium position is a human being. Someone who has trained for months in conditions most of us will never know. Someone who has made sacrifices that are invisible to the crowd. Someone who carries expectations - their own, their coach's, their family's - across every kilometre.

Someone who still wants to be better, even when better is already remarkable.

I did not have the right words for her in that moment. I am not sure there are right words. I simply told her what I saw - an athlete who had given everything she had, on that road, on that morning.

Sometimes that is all you can offer someone.

And sometimes, quietly, it is enough.

What the studio gave me that the stage could not

As much as I loved being the studio anchor, I missed something. I missed being out there this time. For the past four years, I had gotten accustomed to seeing runners, their emotions, saying hi to familiar faces and being part of their milestones and celebrations.

I missed the stage. The screaming. The energy of standing among thousands of runners and feeling that collective adrenaline move through a crowd before a flag off.

My throat, for once, was considerably happier than usual. Stage anchoring at this scale is not gentle on the vocal cords.

But the studio gave me something the stage never could.

I could watch everything, like Sanjaya in Mahabharata.

The elite race unfolding in real time. The marathoners and half-marathoners in record numbers - depicting how this race had grown in stature and become a serious racing event. The 10K leaders at HITEX. The first-timers crossing the half marathon finish line. The full marathoners somewhere deep in the second half, negotiating with their bodies over the remaining kilometres. The moment a runner in a costume crossed the line and the crowd behind the barriers erupted.

From the stage, you hold the energy for the people in front of you.

From the studio, you hold the story for everyone watching from wherever they are.

Both matter. Both are a privilege. Both ask everything of you.

What a marathon actually is

That, perhaps, was my biggest takeaway from the 15th edition.

A marathon is never just a marathon.

It is thousands of individual stories happening simultaneously. And this year there were 32,000 different stories!

The elite athlete chasing seconds. The first-timer chasing belief. The runner with a disability chasing possibility. The fundraiser running for someone else. The volunteer giving up a Sunday morning. The police officer managing traffic at 3 AM. The medical team waiting for the unexpected. The cheering squad lifting a tired runner through one more kilometre. The coach waiting at the finish line. The family waiting for their runner to come home.

And somewhere in a studio, a person trying to tell as many of those stories as possible before the broadcast ends.

Every kilometre has a story. Every runner has a reason. Every finish line has a moment.

I was privileged this year to be the person giving some of those moments a voice.

The 15th edition of the NMDC Hyderabad Marathon was a milestone.

For the race. For Hyderabad Runners Society. For the city's running community.

And, personally, for me.

A new role. A new challenge. A new perspective on a world I thought I already knew well.

Now I need to fix that tyre.

Get some sleep.

And start thinking about the 16th.

Keep running. Keep inspiring. Keep Hyderabad running.

I have been the official anchor for the NMDC Hyderabad Marathon since 2022 and a member of Hyderabad Runners Society since 2018. If you ran this year - which moment will you carry with you?

The Best Seat in Hyderabad at 4 AM

2026-08-21T12:44:29.649+05:30

Fifth year behind the mic at NMDC Hyderabad Marathon. Here is what I keep seeing.

Most people in Hyderabad are asleep at 4 AM. I am usually wide awake.

And I have come to believe that 3 or 4 AM might be the best time to see this city.

Not from a rooftop. Not from a fancy restaurant. Not even from the driver's seat.

From a stage.

Every year, as the NMDC Hyderabad Marathon gets closer, I find myself looking forward to something that has little to do with the race itself.

I look forward to watching Hyderabad wake up.

The 2026 edition is on August 29 and 30, with the marathon and half marathon taking place on Sunday, August 30. But long before the sun comes up, something remarkable is already happening.

Volunteers are arriving. Police officers are taking their positions. Medical teams are getting ready. Pacers are preparing. Organisers are checking the last details.

And then, slowly, the runners begin to appear. Thousands of them.

You see sponsors, organizers, volunteers, runners, local authorities - everyone from the stage

For the past four years, I have had a front-row seat to this annual spectacle as the official emcee and volunteer at the NMDC Hyderabad Marathon. You may have noticed me screaming my lungs out and asking you to tag me with #hostkadost in your social media posts.

And every year, I witness the same fascinating transformation.

Volunteers play a huge role in organizing the event successfully (and they help me on stage too).

At 4 AM, nobody looks like a marathon runner.

Some are elite athletes. Some are running their first Full or Half Marathon. Some have trained for months. Some are nervous. Some are excited. Some are pretending not to be nervous.

The first-timer looks nervous. The seasoned marathoner looks sleepy. The person attempting a personal best looks surprisingly calm.

Parents arrive with children (for 5K fun run). Friends arrive in groups. Spouses who spend their weekdays in separate routines suddenly find themselves standing together at a start line. Colleagues who spend their weekdays sitting across conference tables find themselves side by side at the start arch.

Everyone is stretching. Everyone is checking their watches. Everyone is making last-minute trips to the washroom. Everyone is wondering whether they have trained enough.

For a brief moment, before the starting horn sounds, they all look remarkably similar.

Then the race begins.

And that is when the magic starts.

What you notice from the stage

I was a runner before I became an emcee for this event. I have run this course myself. I know the climbs that feel steeper than they look. I know the kilometres that seem to stretch forever. I know the conversations runners have with themselves somewhere between excitement and exhaustion.

But standing behind the microphone offers a completely different perspective.

You start noticing things that have little to do with running.

You notice the organisers, sponsors, and volunteers. The local authorities supporting the event. Long before the first runner arrives, they are already at work. Setting up barricades. Managing hydration points. Coordinating logistics. Helping nervous runners find their way.

Many of them do not sleep the night before. These are the moments where months of planning and hundreds of conversations finally come together in real time.

Members from the core organizing team. Some of them don't sleep going into the race weekend.

They are among the first to arrive and the last to leave.

Most participants will never know their names. Yet without them, there is no marathon.

You notice families. Parents carrying sleeping children. Children carrying handmade signs. Spouses and friends waiting patiently for hours just to catch a glimpse of a familiar face approaching the finish line.

The finish line may belong to the runner. But the journey often belongs to an entire family.

You notice friendships and camaraderie. Groups that trained together. Colleagues who signed up after a casual conversation. People who never in their wildest dreams imagined they could run a 10K, a half marathon or a full marathon - until they did. Running clubs that occupy entire sections of the start area. Training partners who became lifelong friends.

Group of school teachers who signed up following one another's lead.

The marathon has a way of doing that. It takes strangers who share a start line and turns them into people who share a story.

And then there are the runners themselves.

Over the years, I have seen elite athletes, first-timers, students, senior citizens, CEOs, homemakers, doctors, software engineers, teachers, the specially abled, and countless others stand on the same start line.

The marathon is one of the few places where job titles become irrelevant. Nobody asks what you do for a living at kilometre 18. Your watch does not care about your designation.

The road treats everyone equally.

The stories behind the bibs

And then there are the stories. So many stories.

I have met people in this running community who started running in their fifties and sixties. People who have overcome illness. People who have dedicated their lives to causes much larger than themselves. Athletes who have represented India. World champions. People fighting child abuse. People working to eliminate thalassemia/ diabetes. People planting trees across the country. People fighting plastic pollution every single day.

And ordinary people doing extraordinary things simply because they decided to start.

I once met someone who had run half marathons across all seven continents in seven days.

Seven continents. Seven days. Let that sink in.

I remember thinking: what exactly is my excuse?

Perhaps that is what I love most about these events. They constantly recalibrate your definition of possible. You see someone who started running at 59. Someone who has travelled across the world chasing finish lines. Someone who has overcome circumstances far more difficult than anything you have faced.

And suddenly, your own excuses sound a little less convincing.

The transformation that happens before the start

There is a strange transformation that takes place in those early hours.

A city that normally feels hurried becomes strangely quiet. The roads that are usually filled with traffic belong to runners. The lights of Hyderabad are still on. The sky is still dark. And thousands of people are standing together, waiting for a few words that will tell them: go.

From the stage, you can look at thousands of people and realise that every single one of them has a story.

The person standing next to you may have spent six months training before sunrise. The person behind you may be running in memory of someone they lost. The person in front of you may be attempting something they never thought they could do.

You simply do not know. And that is humbling.

My job is to hold the energy. To make people smile. To calm the nervous ones. To get the crowd moving. To remind people why they are there.

But somewhere along the way, I realised that the microphone gives you something else.

"Perspective."

The finish line in the later hours

One of my favourite moments every year happens near the finish.

Not when the winners arrive. Not when the timing clocks stop. But in those later hours when runners continue to stream in.

Some are smiling. Some are exhausted. Some are emotional. Some are already talking about next year's race.

And every now and then, someone crosses the finish line with the expression of a person who has just discovered they are capable of more than they thought.

That expression - I cannot fully describe it. It is not triumph exactly. It is something quieter. A private reckoning between a person and their own limits.

As an emcee, I get to witness that moment repeatedly.

It never gets old.

Meeting runners post their run finish is a different feeling

The beautifully irrational thing

I work in technology. A lot of my days are spent thinking about efficiency, prediction, and automation. About systems that optimize and algorithms that learn.

Yet every year, the marathon reminds me of something wonderfully human.

No algorithm can fully explain why thousands of people voluntarily wake up before dawn, train for months, battle weather, fatigue, sore muscles, self-doubt, and alarm clocks, only to run through a sleeping city.

There is something beautifully irrational about it.

My nickname is PI - short for "Prashant Ivaturi". Irrational, non-repeating, no closed form.

Maybe the marathon found exactly the right person to watch over it.

And perhaps that is exactly why it continues to inspire me, year after year.

Fifteen years

This year, the NMDC Hyderabad Marathon reaches a significant milestone. Its 15th edition.

Fifteen years of runners. Fifteen years of volunteers. Fifteen years of families cheering from the sidelines. Fifteen years of a city embracing a culture of health, community, and perseverance. Fifteen years of ordinary people doing extraordinary things before the rest of the city has had its first cup of chai.

The best seat in the city

Every year, someone asks me why I wake up at 1:30 AM to host a marathon.

The honest answer?

The microphone is only part of it.

I come because I get to witness something rare. For a few hours, Hyderabad becomes a city of possibility. People wake up before dawn not because they have to - but because they want to. They choose discomfort. They choose discipline. They choose community. They choose to test themselves. And they choose to believe that they can do a little more than they did yesterday.

Running and anchoring have allowed me to meet people I would probably never have met otherwise. People whose achievements make me question my own limits. People whose journeys inspire me. People who remind me that there is so much more to life than our job titles.

At work, I may be a product leader. On stage, I may be an anchor. On the road, I am simply another runner. And when I meet a badminton champion, a world-class boxer, a Kuchipudi exponent, an environmentalist, an elderly runner, or a young athlete chasing a dream - I am simply a curious person listening to their story.

Perhaps that is the real privilege. Getting to meet people who make you want to become a little better yourself.

Before the city wakes up. Before the traffic begins. Before the day's worries arrive. There are thousands of people already moving forward.

And every single one of them has a story.

I get to stand there and watch. Listen. Cheer. And occasionally remind myself: maybe I can do a little more too.

That is a pretty good way to start a Sunday.

And perhaps that is why I think I have the best seat in Hyderabad. At 4 AM.

See you at the start line. And if you spot me before sunrise, come say hello. I will probably be holding a microphone and saying - Good morning, Hyderabad - long before Hyderabad is actually awake.

If you have run the Hyderabad Marathon - which year was yours? And what is your favourite memory from that morning?

The 15th edition of NMDC Hyderabad Marathon is on August 30th 2025 (10K, HM and FM). The 5K fun run is on August 29th. See you at the start line.

The Day I Jumped Off the Stage and Into the Race

2026-08-17T12:14:51.851+05:30

What happens when the person who spends hours lifting everyone else up decides to find out whether he can lift himself up too?

There is a moment I return to often.

It is 5:28 AM. The half marathon wave is two minutes from flag off. I am on stage, microphone in hand, doing what I have been doing since 3:30 in the morning - holding the crowd, managing the energy, making thousands of people feel ready for what they are about to do.

And then I hand the mic to my stage coordinator, step to the edge of the stage, and jump down into the crowd.

I pin on my bib. Lace up my shoes. And join the runners.

Some of them look at me. Then look again.

A few are astonished.

Some recognise me and cannot quite believe what they are seeing.

And somewhere behind me, as I cross the start line, the organising team sends me off with a huge round of cheers.

How this decision came to be

I had originally planned to run the full marathon that day.

When I took up the anchoring role for the NMDC Hyderabad Marathon 2023, I had to make a choice. Cancel my run entirely. Or anchor the start and run the half marathon.

I chose the latter.

It was not a simple decision. I knew exactly what it would demand. As an anchor, I had been awake since 1:30 AM - earlier than even the marathon runners - to be on stage by 3 AM. By the time the half marathon flag off came, I would already have been on my feet for four hours. Speaking, moving, managing energy, holding a crowd of thousands.

And then I would need to run 21.1 kilometres.

I had to think carefully about fuelling. About pacing. About managing fatigue and dehydration in a way that was different from any race I had prepared for before. Every other runner that morning had woken up, eaten, rested, and arrived at the start line conserving energy.

I was arriving at the start line having already spent a significant part of my energy.

The organisers knew I was going to run. Some were supportive immediately. Others raised an eyebrow. One or two quietly asked - are you sure you want to do this?

Nobody discouraged me.

That meant something.

On the road

The first few kilometres felt surprisingly good.

The runner's adrenaline is a remarkable thing. The crowd energy that I had been generating for others for four hours now turned around and carried me. I was running on something that was part fitness, part stubbornness, and part the particular high that comes from having already done something difficult before the race even began.

Somewhere along the route, runners began to recognise me.

A double take. A smile. A shout of encouragement.

Arre, yeh toh wahi anchor hai!

Those moments of recognition were fuel of their own.

And then, in the last one or two kilometres - the stretch where the legs have nothing left to offer and the mind has to make up the difference - a fellow runner (who also is a police official and a friend) who was running the half marathon as part of the event, fell into stride beside me.

He could see I was on tired legs. He did not let me slow down.

He ran alongside me, pushed me, urged me forward, and would not let me settle for anything less than finishing strong.

I crossed the finish line because of my own training. But those last two kilometres were his gift to me.

He and I have been good friends ever since.

Back on the mic

After I crossed the line, I cooled down. Stretched. Caught my breath.

The medal went around my neck.

And then I walked to the finish stage, took the mic from my co-host, and started announcing again.

Some people in the crowd told me to rest. To sit down. To take a moment.

But I could not stop. The runner's high is a real thing and I had it in full measure. I felt like I had more energy in the tank than I knew what to do with. The exhaustion was there. But underneath it was something that felt very much like joy.

And then the crowd heard my voice.

Some went still. Some looked at each other. Some saluted. Some came over and hugged me.

The running community that was present was left, by most accounts, speechless.

Standing there - medal around my neck, microphone in hand, finishers streaming past - it felt like one of those moments you know you will be telling stories about for the rest of your life.

It took me longer than usual to recover in the days after. But as anyone who has done something that cost them everything will tell you, it was the sweetest pain I have ever felt.

My unique distinction of hosting and running

Why this matters beyond the personal

I want to be clear about something.

I am not sharing this to claim a record or seek validation.

I am sharing it because the question this day raised - about dual identity, about what happens when you step outside the role that defines you and test yourself in a completely different arena - is one I think about often.

As an anchor, my job is to hold space for others. To manage the energy. To make everyone else feel ready. It is a role of service. One I take seriously and love deeply.

But that morning in 2023, I needed to know something.

When the performer steps off the stage and becomes a participant, what is he made of?

The answer, I am glad to report, was enough.

Not perfect. Not fast. Not the race I had planned when I originally signed up for the full marathon.

But enough to finish. Enough to come back to the mic. Enough to stand at the finish line with a medal and a microphone and feel, quietly and completely, like myself.

The question I still get asked

In the running community, I am still introduced as the anchor who ran the half marathon in the same event.

People ask me regularly whether I will do it again.

I answer with a twinkle in my eye.

I will not rule it out. It depends on how I am needed for the run.

To my knowledge, there are only a handful of people anywhere in the world who have anchored a major marathon start, run the race, and anchored the finish. I may have the unique distinction of being the first person to have done it in India.

But more than the record, what I carry from that day is simpler.

The knowledge that the person behind the microphone and the person on the road are the same person.

And that both of them, when pushed, can go further than expected.

If you’re running the 15th edition of the NMDC Hyderabad Marathon this August, I’ll see you at the start line.

And if you’ve ever had a day when you surprised yourself, I’d genuinely love to hear that story.

Mera naam Prashant hai. Jo kabhi shaant nahi rehta hai. And I am not going anywhere.

I have been the official anchor for the NMDC Hyderabad Marathon since 2022 and a member of Hyderabad Runners Society since 2018. I completed my first full marathon at the Tata Mumbai Marathon 2024. If you are running Hyderabad Marathon this year, come say hello. And if you have a story about a day you surprised yourself, I would love to hear it.

The Music in My Blood

2026-07-24T14:16:21.454+05:30

A journey across genres, languages, decades, and one very long commute in Chicago.

Every morning of my childhood began the same way. More so on weekends.

My father would play MS Subbulakshmi's Suprabhatam, or Balamuralikrishna's Pancharatna Krithis, or MS Rama Rao's Hanuman Chalisa. The house would fill with Carnatic music before the day had properly begun.

I did not know it then, but my ear was being trained.

The commute that became a classroom

My school was some twenty kilometres away from home in Hazaribagh, Bihar.

I travelled by whatever was available. Private buses. Trucks. Matadors. Whichever vehicle was heading in the right direction.

The drivers played Kumar Sanu and Udit Narayan. Contemporary Bollywood at full volume, crackling through old speakers on dusty roads.

I listened to every song.

When I came home, my mother would have Kishore Kumar or Mohammed Rafi playing. Old classics. Guide. CID. Barsaat. The golden era of Hindi film music, filling the afternoon air.

And my grandmother, deeply devotional and with us for most of the year, would listen to Tollywood classics - Shankarabharanam. Swathi Kiranam. Later, Annamayya almost every day.

I was not studying music. I was absorbing it. From every direction, in every room, across every genre.

Three different musical worlds, under one roof, without anyone planning it that way.

Chiranjeevi, cassettes, and a summer in Andhra

My first real encounter with commercial Telugu cinema music came during a summer trip to Andhra when I was around nine or ten.

My cousins, walking past movie posters, asked me to pick a favourite. Chiranjeevi, Venkatesh, or Nagarjuna?

I did not have an answer. I barely knew their films.

That changed quickly.

We bought cassettes. I carried them back to Bihar. And even living far from Andhra, I stayed closely connected to Telugu film music from that summer onwards.

Hindi from the trucks and my mother. Carnatic from my father's mornings. Telugu from my grandmother and those summer cassettes. Three streams, quietly merging.

Bengaluru and the world opening up

When we moved to Bengaluru in 1992, everything expanded again.

A modern city. New friends. English pop and rap playing from someone's room at every gathering. It took me a while to find my footing in a new musical landscape, but I found it eventually.

I started participating in school singing competitions. I admired the classically trained singers around me. Their precision, their control, the way they held a note.

I was not formally trained. But years of listening had given me something else. An ear. An instinct. A feel for a song that came not from lessons but from thousands of hours of absorption across genres and languages.

I held my own.

The trend continued into college. Antakshari, competitions, performances. Fellow classmates used to listen to MJ, heavy metal and other genres. I picked up interest and a keen ear for it from some of them. AR Rahman and Tamil music also grew on me. Music was never a side interest. It was the thread running through everything else.

The UK, a cousin, and ghazals at midnight

When I joined work (BALCO and later Infosys), I joined the music club and continued performing for various occasions.

Then, when work took me to the United Kingdom, I discovered another genre entirely.

My cousin - my bhaiyya - had a habit of playing Jagjit Singh during car rides. Bhajans and ghazals, late at night, on quiet British roads.

I had heard ghazals before. A song here, a song there. But repeated listening in those car journeys opened something new. The poetry. The restraint. The way a ghazal could hold an entire emotional universe in a few measured lines.

Every exposure to a new genre had worked the same way throughout my life. Not an immediate conversion, but a slow opening. An ear gradually tuning itself to a new frequency.

Chicago: an entire day for one hour of music

The most committed thing I have ever done for music happened in Chicago.

My wife and I had found a Carnatic music teacher - Smt. Rajeswari Pariti (Veena and vocal artist) - whose teaching we did not want to miss. There was just one problem. She was not nearby. We lived downtown and she lived in the suburbs - 40 miles away! Nevertheless, we signed up for weekend classes.

To reach her, we took a bus. Then a train. Then a cab or a shared ride with a friend. The journey took nearly half-a-day. For one hour of class. And then we made the same journey back.

We would start at 7am in the morning for a 11am class. And we would have lunch post the class and reach home around 5pm.

People sometimes ask what kept us going back.

The answer is simple. When you find the right teacher and the right learning, no commute feels unreasonable. The highlight while learning from her was to presenting a carnatic piece in a 50 member ensemble in TANA Chicago back in July 2009 - which still lives vividly in my mind.

That period taught me something about passion that I have carried into everything since. When something genuinely matters to you, the logistics arrange themselves around the commitment, not the other way around.

The person who took me deeper into Telugu
Through all those years of absorbing music across languages, there was one gap I had not fully addressed.
Telugu songs. Pure Telugu songs. Not the cassettes from summer trips to Andhra or my grandmother's devotional playlist - but the rich, wide world of Telugu music that I had grown up adjacent to without ever diving into properly.

My wife Meera Girija Tadimeti changed that.

She is a music aficionado in her own right - someone with a genuine and deep love for music who pushed me to learn and explore Telugu songs with the same seriousness I brought to Hindi and Carnatic. Because of her, I discovered songs and singers I should have known years earlier. Because of her, I am now very comfortable singing in Telugu - a language I grew up speaking at home but never fully explored musically until she opened that door.

We sang together on many occasions (we still sometimes do). Those were some of the most joyful musical memories I carry. She also made that long Chicago commute with me. Bus, train, cab, and back again. Every week. Without complaint. Through serendipity, we even met and got to know one of the most respected Telugu lyricists - Sirivennela Seetarama Sastry - who loved what we both were doing, and later he became our extended family.

Today, her passions have taken her in a different direction - from architecture to the kitchen, where she has become a deeply passionate Telugu chef. But music remains a shared language between us. Songs we both love. Lyrics we both know. An appreciation for melody that connects us even on ordinary evenings.
Behind every musical journey, there is usually someone who believed in it before the singer fully did. For me, in more ways than one, that person has been her.

The competitions

The years of listening, absorbing, and eventually learning formally started showing up in unexpected places.

Runner-up at the Sahara India Singing Competition and Maa TV Super Singer in Detroit - we drove from Chicago for that one and met some wonderful singers along the way. And then when we moved to the Bay Area, I actively participated in the Bay Area Telugu Association (BATA)'s karaoke sessions and community events & celebrations too. The one that meant the most to me however was being the runner up in the Arijit Singh Bay Area Super Singer contest in California.

Arijit Singh is the defining voice of his generation. His songs are considered the most romantic in contemporary Hindi cinema. Winning a competition in his name, in the Bay Area where we were living at the time - that felt like a validation of every year of listening, practicing, and showing up.

The SPB comparison

Over the years, people have occasionally told me that my voice resembles SP Balasubrahmanyam's.

I will be honest about what I feel in those moments.

First, pride. To be compared to the legend - across languages, across decades, across an extraordinary body of work - is not something I take lightly.

Then gratitude. I feel genuinely blessed to have been given a voice that carries even a faint resemblance to his.

And then responsibility.

Because when someone hears me sing an SPB song and says I reminded them of him, I understand what that means. It is not just a compliment. It is a standard. It asks me to present his songs with the utmost care, the utmost preparation, the utmost respect for what he gave to music and to the people who love it.

I do not try to imitate him. I try to honour him.

There is a difference, and it matters.

Where the journey stands

Today I follow music releases across languages and genres. Hindi, Telugu, Tamil, Kannada, English. Film music, classical, ghazal, devotional. The curiosity that started in a house in Bihar with my father's morning Carnatic playlist has never really stopped.

Between family, work, running, anchoring, and writing, finding time for sadhana - for the daily practice that music demands - is genuinely difficult. I will not pretend otherwise.

But the singing continues. At events. On stage. In recordings shared with the people who follow this journey.

And somewhere, quietly, the dream that started in a child listening to playback singers on a dusty Bihar road has not been put away.

I still hope that one day, a song sung in my voice will reach people who needed it.

The way SPB's voice reached me.

The way my father's morning music reached me before I even knew what it was doing.

I am a product leader, marathon runner, emcee, and singer based in Hyderabad. If music has shaped your journey in ways you did not expect, I would love to hear your story.

The First Victory Isn't the Finish Line

2026-07-09T22:43:50.162+05:30

What marathon training taught me about learning AI.

"Congratulations! Welcome to the club.You'll never look at life the same way again."

It almost felt like I had announced I was getting married. Except, I hadn't.

A few years ago, I signed up for my first full marathon, and the reactions surprised me.

Friends from the running community immediately started congratulating me.

One experienced long distance runner reached out with something even more valuable than congratulations. He simply said, "I'm happy to help you through your training. I've been there."

Looking back, that message meant more than I realized at the time.

Because a full marathon isn't just twice the distance of a half marathon. It's an entirely different journey.

The physical effort is greater.

The mental challenge is greater.

And the discipline required is greater still.

The first victory wasn't crossing the finish line. It was deciding to sign up.

As training began, I slowly understood why marathon runners spoke about the journey more than the race itself.

There were early mornings. Long runs. Missed workouts because life happened. Sore legs. Days when I questioned whether I was ready.

But there was also something magical happening. Every week, my body quietly adapted.

The first 25 km run.

Then 30.

Then 32.

Then 35.

Then 38.

Each distance felt impossible until it wasn't.

I wasn't becoming faster overnight.

I was simply becoming more consistent.

And confidence has an interesting way of compounding.

Every long run became evidence that I was capable of a little more than I had believed the week before.

It reminded me of Eliud Kipchoge's famous words: "No human is limited."

I wasn't chasing podium finishes or Olympic qualification. I was discovering that my limits were often assumptions waiting to be challenged.

As the NMDC Hyderabad Marathon approaches this August, I couldn't help noticing the parallels with another journey.

Learning AI.

Over the past year, I've had countless conversations about AI.

Most of them begin with remarkably similar questions.

Where do I begin?

There is so much happening.

How do I keep up?

Am I already too late?

Those questions sound surprisingly similar to the ones first-time marathon runners ask.

How do I train?

Will I be able to finish?

Am I too late?

The biggest lesson marathon training taught me wasn't about running.

It was about embracing something that initially feels overwhelming.

Enterprise AI feels much the same.

The vision can appear enormous.

New models arrive every week.

New tools emerge every month.

The finish line keeps moving.

It's easy to believe everyone else is already miles ahead.

But just like marathon training, nobody wakes up one morning capable of running 42.2 kilometres.

They build towards it - One run. One week. One month at a time.

Learning AI works remarkably similarly.

One concept. One experiment. One project. One conversation at a time.

I've also realized something else.

When you publicly commit to learning, people genuinely want to help.

Just as experienced runners guided me through my marathon journey, I've been fortunate to learn from exceptional colleagues, mentors, researchers and engineers throughout my AI journey.

When I first joined a team led by a Data Science leader and filled with brilliant data scientists, I was genuinely intimidated. I had spent nearly two decades in consulting but was relatively new to Product Management. I knew enough about machine learning to follow a conversation. But I was not an expert, and AI was still more of an emerging field than a lived reality for me.. I was worried I would not comprehend the scientific terms, that I would misread the implications on the product, that I would slow the team down rather than move it forward.

So I did something much simpler than pretending.

I told them I was new. That I would need their help understanding what things meant - not in the abstract, but in the specific context of the product we were building together, so that I could make the right choices.

That honesty changed everything.

They organized learning sessions. Recommended books, papers, and courses. Explained concepts patiently. Answered questions that probably sounded naïve. Never once made me feel like I did not belong in the room.

Looking back, those conversations accelerated my learning far more than I could have managed alone.

Sometimes all it takes is saying: I am learning. I need your help.

The right people usually appear.

Looking back, I realize I didn't learn AI alone.

I learnt because people chose to teach me.

And that's a debt I'll always be grateful for.

Whether you're considering your first marathon or taking your first serious step into AI, the advice is surprisingly similar.

Start. Stay curious. Stay consistent.

Don't worry if you occasionally miss a workout - or a week of learning.

Keep showing up. Progress compounds more quietly than we expect.

The first step is rarely the hardest physically.

It's simply deciding that the journey is worth taking.

Everything else follows.

And who knows...

A year from now, you may look back and wonder why you ever thought it was impossible.

I often tell fresh graduates that a career is much closer to a marathon than a sprint.

AI is no different.

No one expects you to know everything on Day One.

They simply expect you to begin.

One concept. One project. One conversation. One step at a time.

Note: To everyone preparing for NMDC Hyderabad Marathon this August - and to everyone beginning their AI journey - I wish you the same thing: enjoy the journey.

Because the finish line is only one day.

The transformation happens in every day leading up to it.

Take Your Work Seriously. Not Always Yourself.

2026-07-02T21:43:51.575+05:30

What comes after the alphabet 'I' ?

'J'.

And just like that... a PJ arrives right after PI. 😉

(PI = Prashant Ivaturi. PJ = Poor Joke.)

If you've worked with me, you've probably seen this coming.

Somewhere between a roadmap review, a customer meeting, or a team stand-up, an entirely unnecessary pun usually finds its way into the conversation.

Some are good. Most are terrible. Sometimes only I laugh.

I'm okay with all three.

And over the years, I've realized something - humor isn't the opposite of professionalism.

When used thoughtfully, it's one of the simplest ways to build trust, ease tension, and make difficult work just a little easier to do together.

'PI', the 22 by 7 Guy

While I was pursuing my MBA at ISB, I stood for the Graduate Student Body elections.

My initials are P.I.

So I wrote my soapbox campaign slogan as:

"PI, the 22 by 7 Guy."

It wasn't just a mathematical pun, it carried a promise.

"I'll be available for you 22 by 7 whenever you need help."

Students remembered it.

Not because it was clever - but because it was personal, memorable, and just a little unexpected.

That was probably my first realization that humor isn't simply entertainment.

It's a communication tool.

Several years later, I am still using the same instinct. Just in different rooms.

When PRD Became People

Years later, recently at work, an engineering leader asked,"Where's the PRD?"

Coincidentally, three of us in the zoom call had names beginning with P, R, and D.

So I pointed at us and said, "PRD is ready."

Everyone on the call burst into laughter. The deadline didn't disappear , nor did the work become any less important.

But something changed - People relaxed, and the discussion became more open. Ideas flowed more naturally. I've seen this happen time and again.

Humor doesn't solve the problem.

It changes the environment in which the problem gets solved.

A Love Letter to My Product

One of my product roadmap presentations happened to fall on Valentine's Day.

Instead of opening with feature lists and timelines, I began with a love letter.

"Dear Product..."

I spoke about our relationship over the past few months. The wins, the misses, the promises we kept, and the ones we still needed to fulfill.

Then I transitioned into the roadmap. Everything that needed to be discussed was discussed.

Years later, someone stopped me at a company event and said,

"You're the product manager who gave the Valentine's Day roadmap presentation."

They didn't remember every feature on the roadmap. But they remembered the story.

And because they remembered the story, they remembered the strategy.

Stories stick. Humor simply helps open the door.

Happy Monday

There's one more habit my colleagues have become accustomed to.

Every Monday, I wish everyone, "Happy Monday!"

Then Tuesday... Happy Tuesday.

Wednesday... Happy Wednesday.

All the way through Friday.

Some people initially wonder,

"Who wishes people Happy Monday?"

But over time, something interesting happens.

People smile. Someone replies. Someone continues the chain. And today, it has become a fun expectation.

It becomes part of the team's rhythm.

Leadership isn't built only through big moments.

It's built through small rituals, repeated consistently.

Humor Isn't About Being Funny

One thing I try to be conscious of is never making someone else the punchline.

The best workplace humor isn't at someone else's expense. If anyone is the subject of the joke, it's usually me. That's an important distinction.

Humor should make people feel included, not uncomfortable. It should reduce anxiety, not create it.

It should build connection, not division.

Take Your Work Seriously. Not Always Yourself.

I take my work very seriously. I care deeply about building products that matter.

I prepare meticulously before every presentation.

I spend hours practicing music before stepping onto a stage.

Humor doesn't reduce any of that.

If anything, it helps people engage more deeply with the work.

Because at the end of the day, people may not remember every roadmap discussion or every meeting. But they often remember how they felt around you.

Did you make work a little lighter?

Did you make people feel comfortable enough to contribute?

Did you leave them with a little more energy than they had when they walked in?

For me, that's one of the most underrated leadership skills.

So yes, I'll continue making terrible jokes. My son even made me a card for Father's Day that read "Pun-dit" ;-)

I'll continue slipping in the occasional pun.

I'll keep wishing people a Happy Monday.

Because if one silly joke can make someone's day just a little brighter, that's a pretty good return on investment.

After all...

What comes after the alphabet I?

And if you've ever worked with me, you already know what comes after PI.

Usually...

A PJ. 😉

Take your work seriously. Not always yourself.

Halfway Through the Year. Have You Checked In With Yourself

2026-06-29T22:48:04.973+05:30

We are almost halfway through the year.

If you are like most people, you started January with a few intentions. "Read more. Move more. Be more present. Learn something new." Or perhaps you do not believe in resolutions at all and simply carried forward the quiet ambitions from the year before.

Either way, the middle of the year offers something valuable.

A chance to pause.

Not to judge. To recalibrate.

Six months is long enough to have built something meaningful. And still early enough to change course.

Where I am

As I reflected on my own year so far, I realized I had three priorities going in.

The first was reading more. Over the last few years, books had quietly slipped down my list. Between work, travel, and family, they were always the thing I would get to later. This year I made progress.

Two books stayed with me in particular. One was a gift from a close friend, and the other, I picked up in the library.

The first was "The Mountain Is You" by Brianna Wiest, which makes a simple but uncomfortable argument: the obstacle is rarely outside you. It is the version of yourself that has learned to get in its own way.

The second was "What You Are Looking For Is in the Library" by Michiko Aoyama - a quiet Japanese novel about five people stuck in life who find unexpected clarity through the right books at the right moment. I found my copy, quite literally, in a library. I could not have planned that if I tried. The book reminded me that sometimes we are not looking for information. We are looking for permission to trust what we already sense.

Both books had nothing to do with product management. Both made me a better product professional.

More importantly, I rediscovered the joy of reading without needing every book to solve a problem or improve my productivity. Sometimes reading simply expands how you think. That is enough.

The second priority was running and fitness. I do not wake up every morning feeling motivated. Nobody does. I have stood at the start line of races I trained months for, on mornings when my body had other opinions entirely. What I have learned, again and again, is that discipline outlasts motivation. Some runs feel effortless. Others simply test your commitment.

Last year, I had a couple of injuries and my fitness plan nosedived. So this year I set a specific goal. Stay active on at least two thirds of the days in a month (roughly 20 days every month). No heroics. Just consistency. When I counted today, I had been active on 123 out of 181 days.

I felt genuinely proud of that number. Not because it is perfect. Because it is honest. Progress compounds quietly, and rarely announces itself. But occasionally it shows up in a count you did not expect to feel this good about.

The third was becoming better at my work. Not chasing a title or collecting certifications. Just becoming a sharper product leader. Learning continuously. Understanding AI more deeply. Writing better narratives. Asking better questions. Thinking more clearly. Listening more carefully.

I have come to believe that the best product decisions rarely begin with the right answers. They begin with the right questions. I do not have a metric to measure progress, but I am putting in the conscious effort.

Looking back, I realize these three goals were never really about reading, running, or work. They were all different ways of becoming a little better than I was six months ago.

Not perfect. Just better.

The one thing that was not on my list

There was something I had not planned for this year.

Writing.

Years ago, I maintained a personal blog where I would occasionally capture thoughts, experiences, and lessons from the road. Like many things, it faded into the background as life filled up. This year, I decided to revive it. Alongside that, I started writing more deliberately here on LinkedIn.

Initially it was simply a way to organize my own thinking. If an idea stayed in my head long enough, I wanted to explore it, challenge it, and put it into words.

What surprised me was not the views or reactions. It was the conversations.

Colleagues reached out. Friends shared their own experiences. People I had never met wrote to say that something resonated, or made them look at a problem differently.

Writing was not just helping me communicate. It was helping me learn.

But something else happened that I had not expected.

As I wrote about product management, AI, leadership, music, running, parenting, and humor, I found myself revisiting moments I had almost forgotten. A conversation with a mentor. A lesson from a colleague. Advice from my music guru. An experience with my children. A mistake that changed how I think.

Writing became my way of preserving those moments.

Memories fade faster than we expect. Incidents that once felt unforgettable slowly become blurry. People who shaped us in quiet but profound ways become names we have not thought about in years.

Writing has become my way of holding on.

It helps me remember. It helps me reflect. And hopefully, it leaves behind something useful for someone walking a similar path.

The connection I keep finding

People sometimes ask why a product leader writes about marathon anchoring and music? I have stopped trying to explain the connection. I just keep finding it.

The discipline I learn from running makes me a better leader.

Music teaches me patience and deep listening.

Parenting teaches me empathy.

Writing teaches me to think.

And technology gives me the opportunity to apply all of them.

I no longer believe these exist in separate worlds. The more I write, the more I see how much they inform each other. The best product thinking I have done has often been shaped by something that had nothing to do with a product.

A mid-year checkpoint

There are also things I have not done as well as I hoped. And that is okay. The year is not over.

That is the beauty of a mid-year reflection. It is not a scorecard. It is a checkpoint. A reminder that there are still six months to learn, to improve, and to begin again.

So whether you made resolutions in January or simply carried forward goals from last year, this might be a good moment to pause.

Ask yourself one question: am I moving in the direction I wanted to?

If the answer is yes, keep going.

If the answer is no, today is just as good a day to reset.

Because sometimes the most important fresh start does not happen on January 1st.

It happens on an ordinary day in the middle of the year, when you pause long enough to reflect, recalibrate, and move forward with a little more intention than before.

What has surprised you most about your own year so far? I would genuinely love to hear.

The Gift of Attention

2026-06-21T11:39:50.802+05:30

World Music Day, Father's Day, and International Yoga Day - three celebrations, one common denominator.

This weekend brings together three seemingly unrelated celebrations - World Music Day, Father's Day, and International Yoga Day.

At first glance, they have little in common. One celebrates art. One celebrates relationships. One celebrates well-being. Yet, the more I reflect on it, the more I realize they all revolve around the same currency: attention.

Not the attention we seek from the world, but the attention we choose to give.

The anatomy of presence

As a father of two kids, I've learned that the moments my children remember most aren't the grand gestures.

They are the quieter moments - a shared joke, a walk to the grocery store, a conversation on a lazy afternoon that lasted longer than planned or even a meal together.

Children have an uncanny ability to know when you're physically present but mentally somewhere else. The gift they value most is rarely what we buy or plan. As a son, the same held true about my father. I used to ask him - why are you coming late from work. I wanted to spend some time with you.

It's our attention.

Yoga teaches a similar lesson. Strip away the postures, and yoga is fundamentally an exercise in awareness.

Attention to the breath, body and to the present moment.

For a brief period, the mind stops replaying yesterday and worrying about tomorrow. It simply enjoys the present.

Music asks something similar of us.

As someone who sings and continues to learn music, I've come to appreciate that progress in music is rarely dramatic. It is built one phrase, one correction, one repetition at a time. My guru often reminds me that every raaga and every kriti needs to be sung hundreds, if not thousands, of times before it becomes truly yours. Every note has to be refined. Every phrase has to be internalized. The ears must learn before the voice can follow.

Music has a way of exposing a distracted mind. The moment attention drifts, the note suffers, the rhythm slips, and the expression fades. It has happened with me when I focused on the audience more than the music itself.

To truly appreciate music, or perform it, requires more than hearing.

It requires listening. Listening to the pause between phrases, to understand the emotion behind a lyric, to what isn't being played as much as what is.

Fatherhood teaches us to be present with others.

Yoga teaches us to be present with ourselves.

Music teaches us to be present with the moment.

Different paths. And yet the same fundamental human skill.

The great attention deficit

There is another reason this feels particularly relevant today.

We are living through one of the most remarkable periods of technological progress in human history. I am incredibly optimistic about what technology can do for humanity. Many of the tools we use today help us learn faster, communicate better, and solve problems that once seemed impossible.

But they also create a new challenge.

We are surrounded by systems that are increasingly effective at attracting and retaining our attention.

I build technology for a living. I have spent years working on systems designed to understand people, predict what they want, and hold their attention a little longer. I know exactly how well these systems work. Which is precisely why I think about this so often. That is not inherently bad. But it does place a greater responsibility on us to consciously decide where our attention goes.

Because attention, unlike most resources, is finite.

Every notification, every alert, every endless scroll competes for the same limited capacity.

We see it everywhere - parents handing over screens to occupy restless children, adults scrolling endlessly through content they won't remember tomorrow, young people finding it harder to sit with a single task for an extended period.

It feels familiar because most of us have experienced some version of it ourselves. And if we're not conscious and intentional, we can find ourselves constantly stimulated but rarely present.

Teaching the Skill of the Future

This is where I believe parenting, music, and yoga intersect.

All three teach a skill that is becoming increasingly valuable.

The ability to sustain attention. To stay with something. To listen deeply. To resist the urge for constant stimulation. To be comfortable with silence. To be comfortable with boredom. To be fully present.

We need to teach our children that:

Focus is a choice, not a byproduct of entertainment.

As I often tell my kids, boredom is often the birthplace of creativity.

Deep listening builds stronger relationships than any communication technology ever could. I am not writing this because I excel at it. I am working on it too. I have at times found myself retrospectively thinking what I should have done differently.

These lessons may sound simple, but extremely important to pay attention to.

The Ultimate Gift

In a world that constantly competes for our attention, the most meaningful thing we can offer may be our presence.

Attention is more than focus.

Attention is respect.

Attention is empathy.

Attention is connection.

This weekend, as we celebrate fathers, yoga, and music, I'm reminded that attention is not just a skill.

It is a choice.

A choice about what we listen to, a choice about who we show up for, a choice about where we direct our energy.

If we don't learn to command our attention, something else inevitably will.

And perhaps that is why attention feels like one of the most important gifts we can give our children, our families, and ourselves.

The most valuable things in life rarely ask us to do more.

They simply ask us to be more present.

Why I Stopped Calling It "AI" in My Product Roadmaps

2026-06-18T08:42:50.974+05:30

(And what I learned by being afraid of it first.)

Few years ago, I used to want to become an "AI Product Manager". That was the next cool title to have.

I would see the title on LinkedIn, in job descriptions, in conference speaker bios, and feel a quiet pull toward it. It sounded like the future. It sounded like the place where the most interesting problems were being solved.

There was just one problem.

I was afraid of it. There I said it.

Not professionally afraid. I mean genuinely uncertain. I did not have a data science background. I could not read a model architecture diagram with any real confidence. When conversations turned to training pipelines, feature stores, or precision-recall tradeoffs, I would nod at the right moments and resolve to read more later.

I wanted to be an AI PM. I just did not feel like one yet.

What I did not know then was that the journey to getting there would teach me something that had very little to do with AI at all.

What I knew before I knew anything

Before I moved into product management, I led a retail practice in technology consulting.

Part of that work touched recommendation engines. The systems that surface best sellers, similar products, frequently bought together suggestions, personalised picks. I knew what they did. I could describe the outputs, explain the business value, talk about conversion lift with reasonable fluency.

What I could not tell you was how any of it actually worked.

The models were a black box to me. They produced outcomes I trusted and used. The mechanics were someone else's problem. At the time, I did not think this was a gap. The outcomes were good. The business moved. That felt like enough.

It was not enough.

When I moved to product, the black box opened

When I transitioned into product management and started owning a recommendations engine directly, something changed.

I was no longer describing outcomes to clients. I was responsible for them.

Suddenly the gap between what the model did and why it did it mattered enormously. When recommendations degraded, I needed to know whether it was a data problem, a model problem, a feature engineering problem, or a product integration problem. When a stakeholder asked why a certain product was being recommended to a certain customer, "the model decided" was not an acceptable answer.

I started learning. Not to become a data scientist, but to become a better owner. I learned enough to ask the right questions. To catch when something was technically impressive but strategically wrong. To protect the user experience from solutions that looked great on paper and confused everyone in practice.

And somewhere in that process, I noticed something uncomfortable.

The way we were talking about AI in our roadmaps was making us worse at building it.

The problem with putting "AI" in the roadmap

When a feature is labelled as an AI feature from the beginning, something subtle but consequential happens.

The technology becomes the brief.

The conversation shifts from "what problem are we solving and for whom" to "how do we build the AI capability." Stakeholders evaluate the roadmap on the sophistication of the technology rather than the clarity of the outcome. Engineers optimise for model performance metrics rather than user behaviour change. PMs defend scope decisions by pointing to the complexity of the ML pipeline rather than the strength of the user need.

I have sat in roadmap reviews where an entire quarter's work was described in terms of the technology stack. LLM integration. Embedding models. Vector search. Fine-tuning pipelines. Almost no discussion of what the customer was actually supposed to experience differently at the end of it.

We had put the cart so far before the horse that we had forgotten there was a destination.

What I do differently now

In my day-to-day work, these conversations happen constantly.

Should we build a classical ML model or use an LLM-based solution? Would sentiment analysis be sufficient, or do we need a full embedding pipeline? Is a rules-based approach actually more reliable here than a neural one?

The temptation in every one of these conversations is to lead with the solution architecture. To start debating technology choices before the customer problem has been fully understood.

But the right question to anchor every discussion is simpler.

What is the customer trying to do? What is currently getting in their way? What will they be able to do after this capability ships that they cannot do today?

Once those questions are answered clearly, the technology choice usually becomes obvious. Sometimes it is an LLM. Sometimes it is a three-line rule. Often it is both, working in sequence.

The AI is never the product. The customer's outcome is the product.

I do not write "AI feature" anywhere in a roadmap I own. I write the problem, the gap, and the proposed capability. Described entirely in terms of what the user will experience. The technology decision comes after that.

Why this matters more now than ever

We are living through a moment where AI has never been more visible, more hyped, or more available to build with.

Every product team is under pressure to have an AI story to showcase innovation. Every roadmap has an AI section. Every company announcement includes "powered by AI" somewhere in the first paragraph.

And this is precisely when the discipline matters most.

Because when AI is everywhere, the products that will stand out are not the ones with the most impressive models. They are the ones that solved a real problem so cleanly that the user never had to think about the technology at all.

The best AI feature is one the user experiences simply as: this product finally understands what I needed.

Not "here is our AI." Just: this works now, in a way it did not before.

What I wish I had known when I was afraid

I spent too long feeling like I needed to master the technology before I could lead it.

The truth is almost the opposite.

The most valuable thing a product manager brings to an AI project is not technical fluency, though that helps. It is the discipline to keep asking the customer question when everything around you is pulling toward the technology question.

Anyone can be dazzled by a demo. The PM's job is to ask: who is this for, what will they do differently, and how will we know it worked?

Those questions are not glamorous. They do not make for exciting keynotes. But they are the difference between AI that ships and AI that matters.

I started this journey not knowing what a data science model actually did.

Today I lead the intelligence product strategy for an enterprise data platform, working across recommendations, customer data, and agentic AI capabilities.

The technology got more complex. The core question never changed.

What is the customer problem? What capability closes that gap? What does success look like for the person on the other side of the screen?

Call it whatever you want in the press release.

In the roadmap, call it the problem you are solving.

If you are a PM navigating the gap between AI capability and customer value, or if you are where I was, feeling like you do not know enough yet to lead this space, I would love to hear what you are working through.

Training for a full marathon taught me how to look at life differently

2026-06-12T23:11:37.447+05:30

Seven years. One brother-in-law. Several start lines. And one finish line in Mumbai that changed everything.

I did not decide to become a marathoner.

I was not a natural runner nor did I run regularly. I was active, and went on hikes, and occasionally played sports. But in 2017 as I was about to return to India from the USA, my brother-in-law urged me to join a jolly bunch of runners near our home, with a lot of conviction, and very little patience for my excuses. His pitch was simple: run a 5K. Just that. He shared with me a training plan and took me along on runs. Nothing more. So I did.

And something strange happened at the finish line of that first 5K. Not in my legs - in my head. A wall came down. Some quiet internal voice that had always said you are not a runner went silent for the first time.

That silence was addictive.

The 5K becomes a 10K. The 10K becomes a habit.

With the 5K barrier gone, my brother-in-law showed up again. Same conviction. Same plan. This time: a 10K. I finished that too.

And I started to understand something about belief - that it is not a fixed quantity you either have or do not have. It is something you build, incrementally, by doing things you were not sure you could do.

Each finish line was not just a distance completed. It was evidence. Evidence I kept filing away, updating my internal record of what was possible.

Debut Half-Marathon: ill-prepared, unforgettable, instructive

When my brother-in-law suggested that now I graduate to a half marathon, I signed up for the Hyderabad Marathon as my debut. Then in an unexpected turn of events, business took me to San Francisco. And there, almost by accident, I walked past registrations for the SF Marathon. And ran into a friend and a cousin who were planning on registering. I was excited by their enthusiasm and I jumped at it. Undertrained, underprepared, and completely certain it was the right decision.

Looking back, I was not ready for it. My training had been cut short. The rolling hills were unforgiving. The distance was longer than anything I had attempted. I struggled, but with cheering from onlookers and fellow runners, I finished anyway. And my timing was not bad at all. Given the preparation, I surprised myself with the timing.

And the belief grew stronger - not because I had done it perfectly, but because I had done it imperfectly and survived. There is a particular kind of confidence that comes not from smooth execution but from knowing you can hold together when things go sideways. That was 2018.

I did not rush into the full marathon. The body taught me patience.

After San Francisco, the obvious next step seemed to be the full marathon.

I did not take it.

I had learned enough by then to know that I needed to run a controlled half marathon to earn my belief to sign up for the full marathon. And also realized that the full marathon is not two half marathons. It is a different contract with your body and mind entirely. I ran several more half marathons over the following years. I studied the distance. I respected it.

And then came the day that told me I was ready - not a test result, not a training metric, but a lived moment.

I have been anchoring at the NMDC Hyderabad Marathon in 2022. In 2023, I was anchoring at the start line, standing on my feet for over two hours at the start, managing the crowd energy, keeping the atmosphere alive. And then - I shed my anchor role, dropped the mic, put on my bib and joined the sea of runners after the flag off, and ran the half marathon.

I finished it. And then after a brief recovery, I walked back on stage and anchored the finish line.

Nearly five hours on my feet. Start to finish. Running and speaking and somehow, at the end of it, still had fuel in the tank.

Standing there - mic in hand, finishers streaming past - I felt something shift. A quiet, certain knowledge. I have the energy for a full marathon. My body is ready. My mind is ready.

I registered for the Tata Mumbai Marathon 2024 that season.

What happened when I announced it surprised me.

When I posted on social media that I had registered, I expected a few likes.

What I got were congratulations. Real, warm, specific ones. From runners who knew what the decision meant. Messages from people I had never met who understood the weight of the leap.

The running community is generous that way.

It reminded me that the journey to a start line is visible to people who have stood on one. You do not have to explain the significance of the decision to someone who has made it themselves.

That support became part of my preparation. Knowing that people were watching, invested, rooting - it added a layer of accountability that training plans alone cannot provide. I felt a sense of responsibility on my shoulders now towards the belief that others had in me.

Mumbai: the night before, and what it cost me

I trained hard for Mumbai. Disciplined, structured, consistent - for the most part.

But race day, as it sometimes does, had its own plans.

The night before, I could not sleep. I arrived at the start line already tired, already carrying a deficit I had not budgeted for. Within the first few kilometres, my heart rate climbed faster than it should have. Higher than training. Higher than comfortable.

I had a choice to make.

I could run at my planned training pace and risk a collapse somewhere around kilometre 30. Or I could slow down, adapt, and accept that finishing was now the only goal that mattered.

I slowed down.

It was not the race I had trained for. But it was the race I had. I could not let my debut marathon be a DNF.

And at kilometre 32, the wall arrived anyway.

If you have run a full marathon, you know this wall. It is not a metaphor. Your body genuinely stops cooperating. Every kilometre after 32 is a negotiation - not with your legs, which have already submitted their resignation, but with something quieter and more stubborn underneath.

With Mumbai crowd and volunteers cheering, I crossed the finish line.

What the Marathon taught me - about running, products, and life

Race day will surprise you, no matter how prepared you are. I have shipped product features with months of careful preparation that the market received in ways I did not expect. Just like a sleepless night before a marathon, an unexpected bug, or an API that behaves differently in production than in staging - preparation reduces risk, it does not eliminate surprise. What matters is how you adapt in the moment.

Know your limitations. Manage from there. When my heart rate elevated, I did not ignore it. I recalibrated. Products have ceilings too - performance limits, data constraints, adoption curves that resist acceleration. Customers expect the Product to work in a certain way in which it was not intended or designed. The honest acknowledgment of limitation is not defeat. It is the foundation of a strategy that actually works.

Pacing is a decision, not a weakness. Slowing down saved my race. Had I pushed through on ego and ran my training pace on a depleted body, I would have had a DNF or worse. In product terms -the sprint that burns out the team, the aggressive roadmap that skips validation, the feature factory that ships without learning - these are all failures of pacing. Choosing sustainable speed over impressive speed is one of the harder and more important decisions a leader makes.

The joy of finishing is unlike anything else. I crossed the finish line in Mumbai and could not fully believe it. Years of 5Ks and 10Ks and half marathons and one accidental San Francisco debut had all been preparation for this moment. I was, finally, a marathoner. The word meant something different now. It was no longer a category. It was evidence. Irrespective of how the journey is, when you have a Product launch and customers use it and see value, that is real joy.

I have led product teams through releases that felt exactly like this. The lessons transfer more directly than I expected

Recovery took longer than I expected. That was also a lesson.

The body after a full marathon is not the body before it. Systems that were running on reserves need time to rebuild. You cannot rush it. You cannot willpower your way to recovered.

Products after a major launch are similar. The team needs breathing room. The codebase needs stabilisation. Forcing the next sprint before the system has recovered is how you accumulate the kind of debt - technical, human, motivational - that quietly poisons the next cycle.

Rest is not the absence of work. It is work of a different kind.

What I actually learned about myself

I learned that I am capable of more than my early self believed possible - but only if I approach the distance with honesty about where I currently stand.

I learned that belief is built in small increments, over years, through accumulated evidence. No single moment creates it. Every completed run deposits into an account you will draw from when things get hard.

I learned that the people who help you get to the start line matter as much as the training. My brother-in-law did not just get me running. He changed the story I told myself about who I was.

I learned that walls - at kilometre 32, in a difficult quarter, in a career inflection point - are not conclusions. They are the place where the real work begins.

And I learned that finishing, even imperfectly, even slowly, even not at the pace you trained for - is not a consolation prize.

It is the whole point.

None of this happens alone.

I have not said this yet, and I should.

My wife, my kids, my parents, my in-laws - they did not just support my running. They reorganised their lives around it.

Early morning alarms that disturbed everyone. Long runs that meant I came home tired and quiet on weekend mornings that could have been family time. Social plans shifted or skipped to protect a training block. The version of me that showed up after a 30-kilometre run was not always the most present or energetic person in the room. They understood anyway. They cheered on the good days and gave me space on the hard ones.

That is not a small thing. That is everything.

And it maps directly to something I have seen in professional life too.

The features that ship successfully almost always have a person - a manager, a colleague, sometimes just one quiet advocate in the room - who believed in the work before the results were visible. Who gave you cover when the timeline slipped. Who said this team can do it when the data was still inconclusive. Who protected the space you needed to do the work properly.

Talent and preparation matter. But advocacy - the human kind, at home and at work - is what converts potential into outcomes.

I did not finish that marathon alone. The crowd at Mumbai helped. The running community helped. But the people who made the training possible were back home, adjusting their Saturdays without being asked twice.

To them - thank you. You are in every kilometre.

-------------------------------

My nickname is PI - short for Prashant Ivaturi. Irrational, non-repeating, no closed form.

Eight years ago, I could not run a kilometre.

Now, I am a marathoner.

There is no algorithm for that arc. Just one brother-in-law who wanted me to join him and enjoy the process of running. And a family that was supportive of it. I went at it with a training plan, one finish line at a time, and the quiet decision to keep going.

I have been running with Hyderabad Runners Society since 2018 and have been the official emcee for the NMDC Hyderabad Marathon since 2022. I finished my first full marathon at the Tata Mumbai Marathon 2024. If the marathon - or any long pursuit - has changed the way you see yourself, I would love to hear your story.

From Scout Mindset to AI Mindset

2026-06-07T11:04:19.515+05:30

From Scout Mindset to AI Mindset: The Leadership Skill Nobody Is Teaching

A few years ago, I spoke to a group of my colleagues about something called the Scout Mindset (It is from a book by Julia Galef. Read it if you haven't).

The idea is simple.

A soldier defends a position.

A scout seeks the truth.

The soldier asks: "How do I prove I'm right?"

The scout asks: "What am I missing?"

At the time, I thought it was a useful framework for leadership.

Today, I believe it may be one of the most important skills for the AI era.

Because AI is changing the rules faster than most of us are comfortable with.

For decades, expertise was built on certainty.

We studied a field.
We accumulated experience.
We became the person who knew the answer.

That model worked when change was measured in years.

But AI is compressing learning cycles.

The answer we were certain about last year may already be outdated.

The workflow we mastered may be automated.

The technology we dismissed may suddenly become mainstream.

In this environment, certainty becomes dangerous.

Not because expertise is unimportant.

But because expertise can sometimes convince us that we have nothing left to learn.

That is where the Scout Mindset becomes valuable.

The leaders who will thrive in the AI era are not necessarily the ones who know the most about AI. They are the ones who remain curious. The ones who are willing to say:

"I don't know."
"Show me."
"Let's test it."
"What if I'm wrong?"

I have experienced this personally.

A few years ago, while everyone around me seemed to be talking about AI and machine learning, I realized how much I still had to learn. I could have stayed comfortable and continued in/ with what I already knew and did for nearly 18 years. Instead, I chose to learn.

What I discovered was surprisingly reassuring. Most people were learning too. The most effective practitioners weren't pretending to have all the answers - they were experimenting, collaborating, sharing, failing, learning and then repeating the cycle.

That experience changed how I think about leadership.

The role of a leader is no longer to have all the answers. The role of a leader is to create an environment where learning happens faster than change. In many ways, AI is not testing our technical skills. It is testing our mindset. Can we

Stay curious when we feel uncertain?
Learn from people younger than us?
Challenge our own assumptions?
Remain adaptable when the ground keeps shifting beneath us?

The future belongs to people who can.

In the AI era, certainty is not a competitive advantage.

Curiosity is. And curiosity, unlike technology, never goes out of date.

AI and Jobs: Fear is Real. But So is the Pattern.

2026-06-03T09:22:12.749+05:30

The anxiety is real.

Across industries and geographies, people are worried about their jobs. Companies are projecting productivity gains, reducing headcount, and pointing to AI as part of the reason. The uncertainty that follows is not imaginary - it is showing up in careers, households, and conversations everywhere.

Over the past year, I have watched AI complete tasks that once took hours. Creating presentations, summarizing research, drafting requirements, analyzing data, generating code, and producing content - all in minutes. The capability jump is undeniable.

At the same time, I have also seen organizations struggle to realize the value they expected. Not because the technology was lacking, but because the hard part was never just the technology. It was aligning people, processes, incentives, governance, and decision - making around it.

This is why the current conversation about jobs deserves a more nuanced view.

Because history keeps telling us something we tend to forget in the middle of every major disruption:

We have been here before.

The Industrial Revolution automated physical labour at a scale that felt catastrophic to those living through it. Mills replaced craftsmen. Machines replaced hands. And yet, entirely new categories of work emerged that no one had imagined before.

The IT revolution did the same thing. Entire professions that exist today - cloud architects, UX designers, data analysts, cybersecurity specialists, product managers - simply did not exist a few decades ago. The disruption was real. So was the renewal.

The AI revolution is following the same pattern.

Just faster.

What is different this time is the compression. Previous waves of disruption played out over decades, giving societies, institutions, and workers time to adapt. This one is unfolding in years.

That is why the fear feels sharper - not because the pattern is different, but because the pace is.

So what actually happens to jobs?

Some roles will shrink. Repetitive, process - heavy work that can be codified will increasingly be automated. That is already happening.

But the more interesting question is not what disappears.

It is what gets created.

Industry leaders are already discussing roles such as AI Workflow Architects, AI Operations Managers, AI Product Specialists, AI Governance Leads, and Human - AI Collaboration Designers. Whether these exact titles become standard is less important than the underlying reality:

Organizations will need people who understand both business context and AI capability well enough to bridge the two.

That requires judgment.

Context.
Communication.
Accountability.

These remain profoundly human capabilities.

In fact, there is a contrarian view that deserves more attention.

The people most at risk may not be those with the least experience.

They may be those who stop learning because their previous expertise made them successful.

Every major technological shift has punished complacency more than inexperience.

The graduates entering the workforce today know they need to learn. The professionals who thrive will be those who maintain that same mindset throughout their careers.

What does this mean for those of us in the workforce today?

The question is not:

"Will AI take my job?"

The more useful question is:

"What does my job look like when AI handles the parts that don't need me?"

The people who will thrive are not necessarily the deepest AI experts.

They are the ones who stay curious.

The ones who develop adjacent skills.

The ones who learn to work with AI rather than around it - or against it.

Every inflection point in history has rewarded those who leaned in early. Not because they predicted the future correctly, but because they stayed in motion while others waited for certainty.

The disruption is real.

So is the opportunity.

AI may eliminate tasks.

It may reshape roles.

It may even retire some professions.

But history suggests it will not eliminate the need for adaptable, curious, accountable humans.

The technology is changing rapidly.

The question is whether we are willing to change with it.

Are you seeing new AI - driven roles emerge in your organization or industry? What skills do you think will matter most over the next three years?

AI in the Enterprise: Trust, Pace, and the Next Learning Curve

2026-05-28T22:26:32.731+05:30

We live in a world of duality.

As individuals, many of us still don't fully trust AI. Yet professionally, we're building products, workflows, and strategies that are increasingly AI-first. That tension is real - and for those of us building enterprise technology, earning trust isn't optional. It has to be designed in - through transparency, explainability, governance, and outcomes that actually matter to the people using the system.

The pace of change is equally humbling. Even practitioners are working hard to keep up. New models, specialised LLMs, agentic workflows, MCP-style integrations, deep research capabilities, cross-system automation - what felt experimental eighteen months ago is quickly becoming a baseline expectation.

And then there's FOMO. None of us wants to become outdated in our own field. Technology has changed dramatically over the last two decades, but this wave feels different - because the cycle time of innovation has compressed so sharply that the ground keeps shifting before you've found your footing.

So what do we do as product builders, technologists, and leaders?

Embrace it - but with judgment.

A few years ago I realised that while everyone was talking about AI and ML, I still had a lot to learn. I stepped into the deep end. What I discovered quickly was that most people around me were learning too. The best progress didn't come from knowing everything - it came from working with people who brought complementary skills, staying curious, and being willing to be wrong in public.

That learning continues.

In the enterprise, AI helps find patterns across vast, messy, disconnected data. LLMs make unstructured information actionable, while traditional ML remains powerful where structured data, prediction, scoring, and correlation matter. The future won't be LLM-only or ML-only - it will be hybrid, use-case driven, and deeply tied to business context.

The real question was never whether AI will matter. It already does.

The question is whether we can build systems that people trust enough to use, learn from, and act on.

What's the one AI capability that's genuinely changed how you work in the last year? I'd love to hear what's actually moved the needle for you.

Hyderabad Traffic: Enough Is Enough

2026-05-21T10:57:26.696+05:30

I love Hyderabad.

It is a city full of energy, ambition, and growth.

But every day on its roads, that energy turns into frustration.

Traffic is no longer just an inconvenience.
It has become a daily stress.

1. The Basics Are Missing

Let’s start with something simple.

Lane markings - or the lack of it.

Many city roads do not have them.
Where they exist, they fade away or suddenly disappear.

Near the entrance to the Durgam Cheruvu Cable Bridge close to Inorbit Mall Hyderabad, lanes just end.

When lanes are unclear, vehicles spread out randomly.
Drivers cannot stay in lane even if they want to.

And yet we are told to follow lane discipline. How?

While there are guidelines on it (IRC 35:2015 is the primary standard governing road lane markings in India, including Telangana, with local implementations often referencing UTTIPEC guidelines and Cyberabad Traffic Police specifications.) Why aren't the guidelines being followed uniformly?

2. The Way We Drive

But this is not only about infrastructure. It is also about us.

Too many people on our roads are in a hurry to cut corners.
We try to get ahead by a few seconds.
We take shortcuts.
We break rules because we think it does not matter, and there is no fool proof way to be penalized or repercussion.

Wrong side driving has become normal.
Signals are ignored.
Indicators are rarely used.

There is very little respect for other drivers.

We do not think about right of way.
We do not think about safety.
We only think about getting ahead.

This mindset creates chaos. And then we blame the police and officials for traffic jams.

3. Everyday Disorder

Driving in the city feels unpredictable.

Autos stop wherever they want.
Buses block multiple lanes.
Vehicles turn from the wrong lanes.
Two wheelers cross the stop line at signals.

Even simple things like free left turns get blocked (RTC buses block the free left turn lanes).

Every small violation adds up.
Together, they slow down the entire city.

4. The Outer Ring Road Reality

The Hyderabad Outer Ring Road is world class. But the way it is used is not.

Fast lanes are blocked by slow vehicles - predominantly cabs.
Drivers do not give way.
Trucks are parked where they should not be.
Large vehicles take up more than one lane.

The result is simple.
Even great infrastructure cannot deliver its promise.

5. Roads That Are Not Ready

Many roads are poorly maintained.

Potholes are common. Internal colony roads are often worse than main roads.

Speed breakers appear without planning and without clear markings.
U-turns and junctions are poorly designed.

Encroachments make things worse - Hawkers take up road/ footpath space.
Vehicles are parked without order.

The road becomes narrower than it was meant to be.

6. Nights Are No Better

At night, high beam headlights blind you on city roads.

It becomes harder to see.
Harder to react.
Harder to stay safe.

7. The Larger Problem

This is not just a traffic issue. It is a systems issue.

Infrastructure is incomplete.
Enforcement is inconsistent.
Planning is weak.
And civic sense is missing.

In many countries, traffic flows smoothly.

Not because people are in less of a hurry.
But because systems work.
Rules are followed.
And people respect each other on the road.

A Citizen’s Appeal

Hyderabad deserves better. We need:

Proper lane markings
Better road design and maintenance
Strict action on wrong side driving
Lane discipline on expressways
Clear parking rules
Removal of encroachments
And above all, we need a change in mindset.

As citizens, we must do better.
As authorities, there must be accountability.

This is a request to Hyderabad Traffic Police and Cyberabad Traffic Police.

Please take strong, visible action.

Because for millions of us, this is not just traffic. This is our everyday life.

And enough is enough.

2025-12-20T12:57:00.001+05:30

Dhurandhar - Music Album Review

Dhurandhar‘s music has been the sound of the town since the music released. It’s ruling the charts and almost every track is on the top 10/20 list. Let’s learn more about them and see what worked.

1. Dhurandhar - Title Track (Shashwat Sachdev, Hanumankind, Jasmine Sandlas) - The album opens with a high energy track. It’s infact, an old Punjabi track “Naa De Dil Pardesi Nu” by Mohammed Sadiq and Ranjit Kaur that’s been reimagined. While retaining the same tune of the original, Shashwat adds electronic elements with HanumanKind adding flair with his rap, Jasmine Sandlas adding some unforgettable lines and peppiness to the track. Full on attitude!

2. Ishq Jalakar - Karvaan (Shashwat Sachdev, Shahzad Ali, Subhadeep Das Chowdhury) - Another high energy track and again this is reimagined from a song from the 1960 movie Barsaat Ki Raat. The Original was sung by Manna Dey, Mohd Rafi, Asha Bhosle and others in a slow qawwali style. Irshad Kamil splits in two and uses the first couple of lines for this “Na to caravan ki talaash hai… na to humsafar ki talaash hai”. This is also high energy and the lyrics are deep given the context. Loved it!

3. Gehra Hua (Shashwat Sachdev, Arijit Singh, Irshad Kamil, Armaan Khan) - Slow , easy romantic melody with minimal accompaniments - this one is beautifully sung by Arijit Singh. And that one guitar strum that gets the song going - is haunting.

4. Teri Ni Kararan (Shashwat Sachdev, Diljit Dosanjh, Lal Chand Yamla Jatt) - Another old song reimagined by Shashwat. Those who don’t follow Punjabi songs, this was a song by Lal Chand Yamla Jatt beautifully sung by Diljit.

5. Run Down The City - Monica (Shashwat Sachdev, Reble, Asha Bhosle, R.D. Burman) - One more old song reimagined. This time its Piya Tu Ab To Aaja from Karwan. Very nicely mixed by Reble. Makes you feel like you are in a pub and a DJ has remixed this song.

6. Shararat (Shashwat Sachdev, Madhubanti Bagchi, Jasmine Sandlas) - Instantly reminded me of Aaj ki Raat. May be because it is by the same singer Madhubanti Bagchi. Catchy tune with electronic beats.

7. Ez-Ez (Shashwat Sachdev, Hanumankind, Diljit Dosanjh, Raj Ranjodh) - Diljit and Hanumankind come together for this. Ez song to listen.

8. Lutt Le Gaya (Shashwat Sachdev, Simran Choudhary) - Very contextual and yet the song is a very good listen even otherwise. I loved the placement of “bhum” sound in the song.

9. Move - Yeh Ishq Ishq (Shashwat Sachdev, Reble, Sonu Nigam, Roshan) - This is the second part of the qawwali “Na to caravan ki talaash ha” from Barsaat ki Raat where Sonu Nigam sings the hook line along with some

10. Naal Nachna (Shashwat Sachdev, Afsana Khan, Irshad Kamil, Reble) - Reble’s rap and Afsana Khan’s raw vocals make this a very interesting listen. Can see this also being played in pubs like many of the others in the album.

11. Ramba Ho (Shashwat Sachdev, Madhubanti Bagchi, Bappi Lahiri) -, this song by Usha Uthup has been reimagined very well for a very specific context in the movie.

Overall, Shashwat has taken many old songs and reimagined them with electronic beats, good programming and blending them with rap, Punjabi and other kinds of music. Sonu Nigam, Arijit, Diljit, Hanu mankind are the more well known names on the album. The others are upcoming or lesser known artists. But they have done a fabulous job. These songs will continue to rule the roost for some more time. And I can see a lot of them being staples in pubs and being played by DJs on various occasions. Enjoy the soundtrack!

Gajar ka halwa - Ye Mausam Ka Jaadu Hai Mitwa

2025-12-11T12:25:00.003+05:30

Gajar ka halwa

Ye gaajar ka mausam hai mitwa

Ab ghar pe banega iska halwa

Doodh aur ghee mein pakaaiye

Elaichi cheeni daaliye

Kaju Baadam daal ke khaaiye halwa

Sardiyon mein khaaiye garam garam halwa

Here is the instagram video link ...

https://www.instagram.com/reel/DSF0o1lkyU1/

Chicory Chicory - Parody take on Chikiri Chikiri

2025-12-09T12:57:00.001+05:30

Recently, A R Rahman released the Chikiri Chikiri song from the upcoming movie Peddi. While the song and movie will be released in multiple languages, the original song and movie is in Telugu. The song became an instant hit with it's catchy tune and the choreography that Ram Charan pulled off with elan.

But while humming Chikiri, I could not help notice the rhyming similarity to Chicory - an ingredient that is added to coffee to reduce it's bitterness. And people add Chicory in different quantities. Some commercial brands add as much as 40% chicory to reduce bitterness and the price of coffee. So, that led me thinking - is it possible to recreate Chikiri by replacing it with Chicory? And after some thought, it happened.

So, here is Chicory... Enjoy it!

Poddunney lechaaka

Coffee padithey o chukka

Pani modaletteyachu enchakka

Coffee Cheduga unte pakka

Nenu Thaagaleno gukka

Aa coffee thaagaleka kakka

Oho add cheyyi Chicory Chicory
Coffee lo Chicory Chicory
Pedatha Pedatha Pedatha
flavorful coffee Pedatha

Tasteu daani ruchini batti

Add chesesesthene keka

Chicory Chicory unte … nenu thaagesta!

Chedu, ruchini manchiga balance chesesthondhe pilla

Koncham Chicory tho coffee adirenu ta

Poddunney lechaaka

Manchi Coffee padithey pakka

Pani cheseseyacchu enchakka

-------------

Watch Chicory Chicory Parody Here

Baboi Corona - Parody Take on Oh My God Daddy

2025-12-09T12:45:00.007+05:30

When the world came to a standstill due to Coronavirus, and the government announced the first lockdown in March 2020, we all stayed at home (remember?). There was no vaccine back then. Everyone was advised to stay home, maintain social distancing and wash hands when they touched someone or something. The fear was real. Then an idea came to me. Why not create a song that was as informational/ educational and equally entertaining as well. That is when "Baboi Corona" happened.

I wrote the below lyrics and sang it to the tune of "Oh My God Daddy" from Ala Vaikuntapuramulo which was a craze at that point. Hope you all can relate to it and enjoy it.

Naa story cheppalenu
Naa baadhakanthu ledhu
Janaalu andarendhukintha
meedha paduthunnaru
Maata vinipinchukoru
Assalu artham chesukoru
Aalochisthe Corona peru
Raaluthundi naa hairuu

Corona test cheyyamante
Manamemanna rich ah
Vachi muttukomante
Emaina picchaa
Anukuntu daakkuntu
Nenu intikocchaa
Andharinta same scene
Emantaav chicchaa
[RAP ENDS]

Baboi Corona
Dhada putte gundellonaa
Baboi Corona
Undandi illallonaa
Baboi Corona
Dhada putte gundellonaa
Daakkunna intlona
Bayataki ne raalena??

Social distancing antu
Govt cheppindi vintu

Chetulu kadukkuntu
Chesa ney fight day and night-u
Oh oh oh twenty secondsu
Oh oh oh hand washingu...

Virus ni o chitti
country lo aapaleru
Intha thakku time lo
mandhu kanibettaleru
Swechakemi shortcut
Kanipettaledhu ottu
Kaadhante nannu thittu
Ledha na jattu kattu

Pillalni sanitize
cheyyamani cheppa
peddavaallanee
bayatiki ellamanaku chiccha
serious ga teesukomani
cheppaleka chachaa
unna okka zindagi
jagrathagundu machaa

He isn’t always right
Spy daddy spy daddy
He isn’t always right
Spy daddy spy daddy
Spy daddy spy daddy spy daddy
Spy daddy spy daddy spy daddy

Corona antindante
Care of kashtalunnatte
Ee virus povaalante
Quarantine avvalanthe
Oh oh oh moodu vaaraale
Oh oh oh unchu dooraale

Baboi Corona
Dhada putte gundellonaa
Baboi Corona
Undandi illallonaa
Baboi Corona
Dhada putte gundellonaa
Stay Home ani antunna
Bayataki ne raavadannaa

---------------

Watch the song here

Exploring the Magic of Prague and Vienna - Chapter 1: Prague

2024-10-14T18:22:00.025+05:30

After Four Years: Exploring the Magic of Prague and Vienna

Hello, dear readers! It’s been a whopping four years since I last wrote a blog post, and oh, how the world has changed in that time! We’ve settled into our own apartment, I conquered a marathon (yes, it’s true!), our kids have grown up, and I’ve delved into the world of anchoring and emceeing. But today, I’m thrilled to share a recent adventure that took us to the enchanting cities of Prague and Vienna!

A Long-Awaited Journey

Prague and Vienna had long occupied a special spot on our travel wishlist. The moment we laid eyes on those stunning red-roofed buildings of Prague, our hearts melted. Vienna, with its rich tapestry of culture, history, and music, was calling us just as loudly. Earlier this year, we secured a Schengen visa while exploring Italy and Switzerland, which felt like winning the lottery given the visa process can be a real headache! With six months to play with, we were determined to make the most of it.

After some back-and-forth, we settled on Prague and Vienna. As music lovers, how could we resist visiting cities so steeped in musical heritage?

Discovering Prague: The City of a Hundred Spires

Our adventure kicked off in Prague, the capital of the Czech Republic, famously known as “the City of a Hundred Spires.” Spanning both sides of the Vltava River (pronounced "vol-taa-vuh"), this city is a treasure trove of history and beauty. We chose to stay near the Old Town Square, a perfect base for exploring historic sites, vibrant culture, and the enchanting cobblestone streets that tell stories of medieval times.

One of our first stops was the iconic Astronomical Clock, built in 1410. Can you believe it’s the oldest functioning clock in the world? Every hour, it chimes a symphony of mechanical wonders that draws crowds in awe.

Crossing the Charles Bridge, we felt the magic of Prague seep into our souls. This stunning bridge connects the Old Town to the majestic Prague Castle. Speaking of which, we explored the castle complex, a UNESCO World Heritage site that’s over 1,000 years old! With its sprawling gardens, towering cathedrals, and breathtaking views of the city, it’s truly a must-see.

A Cultural Feast

Prague isn’t just about its history; it’s also a hub of vibrant cultural life. Did you know that Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart composed and premiered some of his most celebrated works here? Our room was adorned with books and artwork about Mozart, including the fascinating fact that his opera "Don Giovanni" premiered at the Estates Theater in 1787 to roaring acclaim from the locals.

And if you think Prague is all about classical music, think again! The city pulses with nightlife—pubs, clubs, and live music venues keep the energy high long after the sun sets.

Navigating the City

While exploring on foot is the best way to absorb the atmosphere, Prague’s efficient tram system makes getting around a breeze. Here’s a quick list of must-see sights and activities to add to your itinerary:

Old Town Square
Astronomical Clock (don’t forget to climb the spiral stairs!)
Charles Bridge
Prague Castle
Estates Theater
Powder Gate
Church of Our Lady Before Týn
Vltava River Cruise
Wander the Old Town Streets
Karlova Street for souvenirs
Trdelník ( which means a hollowed out log) or Chimney Cake—a must-try street snack
Local Czech Beer —sample Pilsner Urquell or Budvar
Pařížská Street, Nerudova Street, Zlata Ulička for scenic strolls
Petrin Tower for panoramic views on a sunny day
Delicious Vegetarian Options—we found some delightful local dishes
Dancing House—a modern marvel amidst the historic charm
V Ungeltu for unique local souvenirs
Nightlife Hotspots—don’t miss Lokal Dlouhá and DejaVu music bar

While our two and a half days were brisk and the weather a bit chilly, we still covered a lot of ground and made unforgettable memories. Sure, we faced some rain and couldn’t capture all the postcard-perfect moments, but the experience was rich and rewarding nonetheless.

Until Next Time!

I’ll wrap up this post here, but stay tuned for my reflections on Vienna, where the music and magic continue! I hope this guide helps you plan your own adventure in Prague. Safe travels!

Digital Schooling in the age of #21daysoflockdown

2020-04-01T15:17:00.001+05:30

The country came to a grinding halt since March 25th. Since the older folk and young kids were more prone to the #Coronavirus, it made sense to keep them indoors. And for a country with a population of 120 Crores plus, the risk of the pandemic escalating would have been too much. To #FlattenTheCurve, the country's leadership decided to lockdown the country for 3 weeks (#21daylockdown) from March 25th to April 14th 2020.

All this meant that schools would be closed, and parents would have to scramble to figure out how to keep kids busy (it felt like an extended summer break). While the reports of #COVID19 spreading rapidly across the globe was keeping everyone in panic mode, some school authorities used the time to devise innovative ways to keep kids engaged. And thus came the time for #DigitalSchooling and #Collaborative Learning.

With the #21daylockdown , schools like The Shriram Universal School, Hyderabad #tsushyderabad introduced digital learning. #NewAcademicYear 2020-21 began today (April 1st, 2020). The school is moving content online - creating online videos and PPTs and still enforcing a school time table. Some schools have partnered with mobile app creators to push course content through apps. Kudos to the schools for taking such steps!

Of course, there is a greater role for parents to play in such circumstances - e.g. ensuring discipline from kids at home - to wake up, follow a routine, watch the videos (under adult supervision), clarify questions and such. Of course, it may strain the eyes a little bit, but it is any day, better than letting the kids watch TV or other digital monitors (Tablets or Phones) for similar lengths of time.

Digital Schooling during Lockdown

For much younger kids, like my 4 year old daughter, the school opted for #CollaborativeLearning. The school administration has a WhatsApp broadcast group, and they have been using it to send important information. Now with the lockdown enforced, they decided to use it inform parents about how the school will continue to keep kids and parents involved and engaged, and has been sending some activities daily. Parents are encouraged to send pictures after the kids complete the activity.

While these are not long term solutions, and cannot replace classroom learning and/or human interaction, these are great steps forward. It will mean that Teachers and administrators have to breach the digital barrier faster and adopt technology in a way that was not prevalent before. With the digital classroom, teachers will have to hone new skillsets - namely, better presentation and communication/ articulation skills. It is indeed a challenge for some, as they have to prepare the content much in advance. Indeed, it will further strain the internet bandwidth. Indeed there are very limited resources available at our disposal right now (e.g. lack of Printers, or craft paper or geographical map of India) and they may not be available for some more time.

However, one cannot dispute the swiftness of action by schools, appreciate what they are trying to do in these unusual and turbulent circumstances, and encourage the adoption of digital means to further education. This is what we can call #SchoolFromHome (SFH) - just like WFH. This will provide a lot of confidence to try out such innovative ways in the times to come. A lot of other activities have moved online, and really the pace of digital transformation has gone up, thanks to #COVID19. Indeed, every cloud has a silver lining!

Christmas of 2018 - A trip to Kakinada!

2019-11-12T23:48:00.001+05:30

For Xmas 2018, we planned to visit our cousins in Kakinada. Kakinada is a coastal town right by the sea. It was a 4 day trip, and my first to Kakinada. Ideally, had it not been to visit my cousins, this could easily have been a 2 day weekend trip. We left by train (Cocanada Express) from Hyderabad, and reached Kakinada in the morning. As stay was at our cousin's place, we did not incur stay cost. Having said that, there are plenty of good stay options in/ around Kakinada.

Places to see, and things to do in/ around Kakinada (directions link):

There are lot of places worth seeing in and around Kakinada

Kakinada is a port town - it is one of the smart cities in Andhra Pradesh. Visit the beaches (albeit the beaches have black sand and not the cleanest). Go to the recently built Beach Park for some attractions. Eat the Madatha Kaja and Gottam Kaja (must try), and try the unending veg thali at iconic Subbayya gari hotel (go to the original and oldest branch) while here.

Uppada village which is 30 kms from Kakinada is famous for it's silk sarees, and the drive to the village is beautiful. You can visit some of the handloom weavers, see how they weave the sarees and also buy directly from them instead of paying a higher showroom prices in the city.

Yanam, a small town, and surprisingly (to me), part of the Union Territory of Pondicherry - this is where river Godavari merges in to the Bay of Bengal close to the coast of Yanam.

Coringa Wildlife Sanctuary: 18 kms from Kakinada - famous for the largest mangrove in the country, and for the migratory birds that come here in winter.

Day 1 & 2:

While we spent relaxing and catching up on Day 1, on Day 2, we went to Yanam, a small village. Godavari merges in to the sea close to the Yanam coast. There is a huge Shiva linga on the banks of Godavari, and the docking area next to it. We all went on a boat ride on the Govadari river to an island where finally the river merges in to the sea. We put on life jackets as the ride was bumpy. We had to carry water, snacks and lunch as this is a remote island with no people or amenities. This island is not even on the map, and has no phone signal.

After about 2 hours, and a 40 kms boat ride in to the sea, we reached a small unknown island. There was no one on the island except us. The boatman told us that here, the Godavari river met the Bay of Bengal sea. There was water everywhere! We played in the sand. Due to how isolated this place is, we came back to Yanam before dark, and returned home.

This unknown island is not even there on the map - pristine beaches, clear water, and not crowded at all!

Day 3:

We all went to Annavaram in the morning. It is 60 kms from Kakinada, and has a very famous temple on the hill dedicated to Sri Satyanarayana Swamy. This was a half-day trip and we came back to Kakinada by lunch time. We had meals at the iconic Subbayya Gari Hotel (which now has branches in Hyderabad too). It's a small location, but the friendly service, the tradition, the scale of cooking, the utensils they use, and overall hospitality left a lasting memory.

In the early hours of the evening, we drove to Uppada and helped the ladies shop sarees. The road to Uppada village is right by the sea, and the drive is beautiful. One can see and hear the waves splashing against the rocks along the way. Several movies have shot some sequences along this coastal road.

Uppada is a short 30 mins drive from Kakinada

Day 4:

The next day was Christmas. That was the last day we stayed in Kakinada. We spent time at home, exchanging some gifts and playing with one another. We bought Kakinada Kajas (famous sweets). We took the train that evening and reached home the day after Christmas. I did not want the vacation to end. It was a memorable trip. I just can’t wait for the next such trip!

Though I was looking forward to, we could not visit Coringa Wildlife Sanctuary as there was not enough momentum within the family. I will be back again some day and try to spot the fishing cat, and to click some of the migratory birds that come there.

Reference articles that helped us plan our trip (thanks to some of the Tripoto community members too):

https://www.tripoto.com/trip/on-the-trail-of-the-elusive-fishing-cat-5b5d8dee1a905
https://www.tripoto.com/trip/a-day-in-kakinada-57d778219457c
https://www.tripadvisor.in/Attraction_Review-g1584832-d5787981-Reviews-Coringa_Wildlife_Sanctuary-Kakinada_East_Godavari_District_Andhra_Pradesh.html
https://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/city/visakhapatnam/2-day-bird-festival-in-coringa/articleshow/67019927.cms

3 day road trip to Yaganti - Belum Caves - Gandikota - Ahobilam - Mahanandi - Alampur

2019-11-11T12:55:00.002+05:30

With Friday, Nov 1st being a holiday in Karnataka for Kannada Rajyotsava, my wife had a long weekend. I decided to take a day off from work to make it a long weekend, and planned a road trip with family (kids and parents). The thought came to mind while I was speaking to a colleague at work about his hometown (Proddatur). As I looked at the map, I realized that Gandikota (The Grand Canyon equivalent in India) was nearby, and a 2 day weekend trip would be ideal and we would have a day in hand to rest.

Then, as I started researching about other attractions nearby, I learnt about Yaganti, Belum Caves, Gooty fort, Tadipatri, Ahobilam, Mahanandi, Kurnool and Alampur. Each place had so much history, culture, mythology, and religious prominence that it was not to be missed. We realized that to cover all these places, 2 days was not going to be sufficient. Finally, we decided to make it a 3-day road trip, and also cut down the places to visit. There are several blogs from people who have a 2-day itinerary of combinations of these places (Yaganti/ Belum Caves/ Gandikota, or Gandikota/ Ahobilam, or Mahanandi/ Alampur, or Mahanandi/ Ahobilam - and the list goes on).

Directions link

THINGS TO BEAR IN MIND:

Because we were traveling with kids and parents, we had to keep in mind the following:

Accommodation - these are remote places, and good accommodation is not easily available. So you need to plan slightly in advance. We booked camping tents in Gandikota for the first night, and a hotel in Nandyal for the second night.
Travel - Plan/ Book your own travel and know the routes (and nearest cities/ towns). You will be traveling through farm land, villages, and help may not be imminent.Plan with a contingency of 3-4 hrs (unforeseen incidents, traffic, flat tire, kids/ parents wanting a break). We rented a 7-seater vehicle from Avis Rental India. It made the journey comfortable. Roads are amazing - NH40 and Rayalaseema Expressway - both were a pleasure to drive.
Food and Water - Carry bottles of water with you (again, because of the remoteness of some of the places). We did not have much space left after packing our luggage. So we took 5 liter cans (easier to handle), and 1-liter bottles from home to refill as and when we needed. There are plenty of food options along the highway, so that is not an issue.
Read up about the places you are visiting - one will not be able to appreciate the value unless they know what is the history behind these temples, and their architectures.
Enjoy the journey - it's ok if you miss a place or don't stick to schedule. You can always come back another time. We missed seeing Orvakal rock garden and Konda Reddy Fort. But we still have amazing memories of the trip!

Here is how we planned our itinerary for the trip (we planned on our own):

Our ride - Avis Rental Car (comfortable car, good service) - suggested by a friend. Our cost of the trip increased due to this, but if you are taking your own vehicle, the cost will be much lesser. Avis' rental service was quite good, and the car was neat and clean.

Day 1 (Nov 1, 2019)

We started from home around 5.20 am. We stopped on the way to have breakfast at Food Pyramid (140kms from Hyderabad), and the food was really good. We reached Yaganti Temple (Agastya Cave, Pushkarini, Venkateshwara Cave) by 10.30am (temple closes at 11am). It took us almost 2-3 hrs to see all temples and caves and to have lunch.

This little known place is house to the Uma Maheshwara temple and caves where Agastya Maharshi performed his penance for Lord Shiva. The temple architecture is reminiscent of Chalukya style of temples (red sandstone temple). Story goes that when the crows disturbed him, he cursed them not to be seen anywhere. Till this day, there are no crows in this area (but a lot of monkeys are found in the temple vicinity). The temple was originally planned for Lord Venkateswara, but the idea was dropped when the idol had a broken toe nail. Later, the idol of Uma Maheshwara (half Parvati & half Shiva) was found in the premises (rose from the earth), and hence the temple dedicated to Uma Maheshwara. There are three caves (moderately difficult to climb), of which in one of them Agastya maharshi performed his penance.

Due to shortage of time, we could not, but if you can, please visit Katavani Kunta (500,000 years old rock paintings) - paleolithic art (they are 20 mins away from Yaganti temples).

From Yaganti, we went to Belum Caves - largest underground caves in India and spent 1 hr there. Due to recent rains, some part of the cave was waterlogged, and we could not go to the end (1.5 kms long caves).

After the sunset, we freshened up in Haritha resorts and then camped in the camping site for the night (we used "Camping at Gandikota") - AC and non-AC tents are available if booked in advance - totally safe and worth it. APTDC offers tents and cottages too, but after doing our research, we decided to camp with someone else. All food, washrooms are provided by APTDC Haritha Resort (as it is a small village). There are limited options for food with 2 small hotels near the fort.

Our next stop was Gandikota. We reached there (via Jammalamadugu) just around 5.10 pm. Sunset was at 5.47pm, so we were just in time. We watched the sunset from the Gandikota fort steps.

After the sunset, we freshened up in Haritha resorts and then camped in the camping site for the night (we used "Camping at Gandikota") - AC and non-AC tents are available if booked in advance - totally safe and worth it. APTDC offers tents and cottages too, but after doing our research, we decided to camp with someone else. All food, washrooms are provided by APTDC Haritha Resort (as it is a small village). There are limited options for food with 2 small hotels near the fort.

Day 2 (Nov 2, 2019)

We woke up early, and watched the sunrise from the cliff overseeing the Penna river. We got a picture of how, and how many camping tents there were. Weather was pleasant at night, and it started heating up in the day. This place is best visited in the winter months.

We went for a short morning stroll, followed by breakfast, drive through the Gandikota village and saw the local ruins - Jama Masjid, Charminar, Ranganayakula Temple, Mahadevula temple and view point (of Penna river). Gorgeous gorge! The local guide wanted to take us to the waterfall too, but we skipped it as we had to reach Ahobilam before lunch.

We finally left for Ahobilam by 10am (2 hrs drive) & reached upper Ahobilam by 1pm. As it was a Saturday, vehicles had to be parked much before reaching the top. Free service vehicles took us to Upper Ahobilam. It was fun to sit in those share auto style vehicles. We had lunch in one the Brahmana Nitya Anna Daana Satrams, followed by visit to the 4 Narasimha Swamy Temples - it is impossible to cover all 6 of them. They are not easy to reach by foot, and need trekking shoes. We tried to cover as many as possible (till 4 pm) as temples close early in Upper Ahobilam. The temples are nested in the forest, beautifully. Please carry water with you as options to buy/ borrow are less. There are natural water streams, but they are not easily accessible.

After Upper Ahobilam, we drove to Lower Ahobilam and visited the Laxmi Narasimha Swamy temple (it is open till 8pm). This temple's architecture was noteworthy, and this temple complex was huge.

As Ahobilam is a small village, we had planned our stay overnight in Nandyal - nearest town with decent hotel facilities. It is 60 kms from Ahobilam. We had dinner in Nandyal (Shankar Vilas Veg Restaurant) and then checked in to the hotel. The hotel rooms were big, but quality of the rooms was deplorable.

Day 3 (Nov 3, 2019)

After breakfast on day 3, we started to Mahanandi Temple by 9.30am. It is a short 15 km/ 30 mins drive from Nandyala. The Mahanandeshwara temple is one of the sacred Navanandi temples in the region. The temple was crowded on a Sunday and we spent more than 1 hr there. One has to remove their shirt if they choose to go inside the garbhagudi. After darshan, we headed to Alampur/ Kurnool.

Along the way, there is Orvakal Rock Garden which is unique, but we were running late and everyone was tiring out. So, we decided to skip and headed straight for Kurnool for a quick lunch.

After lunch, we went to Alampur (40 mins from Kurnool) - to visit the Alampur Jogulamba Temple, 5th of the 18 shakti peethas, and also the Bala Brahma Temple, and Sangameshwar Temple, Tungabhadra river view (slightly further ahead, Krishna & Tunga merge - Kritunga), hence the name "Sangam"eshwar temple.

After visit, we left for Hyderabad and reached around 9.30 pm.

Our trip was memorable, with kids and parents enjoying alike. Overall, we stuck to the above itinerary and were mostly on time (I still cannot believe we did it!). Roads, for most part, were smooth and driving was a pleasure. As this entire route was close to Krishna, Tungabhadra and Penna river belt, there was greenery all around. The skies were blue - as blue as they come.

If you are planning the same trip, then here is a handy checklist of things to carry (hope it helps you):

Govt ID card
2 pairs of clothes (1 spare), 1 night wear
1 pair of shoes (for trekking in Gandikota and/ or Ahobilam)
Toiletry kit - Toothbrush, paste, soap, deo/ perfume, sunscreen, moisturizer, mosquito repellent, lip balm
Torch (useful in Gandikota at night)
Umbrellas - despite the onset of winter, it was very hot in each of the places.Camera, batteries, memory card
Water, snacks, plastic covers for wet/dry waste
Sunglasses, caps
Medicines - Pain, fever and any other necessary medication
Warm wear (depending on the season) - One sweater/ light jacket - this was not needed after all.
Towel
Light bedsheet
Outdoor mat (if going in a large group)Mobile chargers, powerbanks, aux cables - as per your need

Reference Articles that helped us plan:

Wikipedia links of Gandikota, Ahobilam, Belum Caves, Mahanandi, Alampur
https://www.tripoto.com/trip/gandikota-grand-canyon-of-india-roadtrip
https://gotirupati.com/yaganti-temple/
https://gotirupati.com/alampur-jogulamba-temple/
https://traveltriangle.com/blog/guide-to-gandikota-fort-grand-canyon-of-india/
https://www.holidify.com/places/kurnool/yaganti-sightseeing-6239.html
https://www.trawell.in/andhra/yaganti
https://www.holidify.com/places/kurnool/belum-caves-sightseeing-2528.html
https://www.thebetterindia.com/65395/belum-caves-andhra-pradesh/

Yes, I signed up for a half-marathon!

2019-01-09T12:55:00.000+05:30

I started running regularly only recently. In the last 12 months, I have been trying to make this a habit, and over the months, I have been able to run more. I had signed up for the Airtel Hyderabad 10K run in August, but unfortunately, I had to travel on work, and could not participate then.

Then, once I was back, work took center stage, I put in long hours at work, and all fitness activity stopped for about 3 months. I started feeling heavy, and when I stood up on the weighing scale, I was embarrassed. I had put on weight and had to start the fitness journey all over again. Then, I made a decision to make fitness, and running, a core habit for life. I started training - slowly, and ran small distances to begin with. And by November end, I was able to run/walk the Hyderabad 10K in about 1 hr 16 mins. I was proud of myself, and it gave me the belief that if I could run a 10K with such little practice, I could run far more consistently, and long distances with regular practice. I was also excited to see so many youngsters, and old folk run that day. It inspired me to run regularly and get better. And so the journey started.

Photos of Hyderabad 10K

And here I am today, I took upon the challenge to run the half-marathon for the very first time. I know I can run the 10K with ease now. So, the half-marathon on Feb 24th, 2019 will be double the distance. But I know I have it in me to achieve it.

Here is what I read for my preparation for the half-marathon. Now it's time to implement it.

https://www.verywellfit.com/13-things-to-know-before-running-a-half-marathon-3862882

I also need to maintain my weight, so intake of the right amount of calories is very important. Along with the above link, I found a very good resource that helped me think about my weight goal:

https://www.verywellfit.com/how-many-calories-to-lose-weight-3495659#start-over

This year, the goal is to be able to run a full marathon by the end of the year. I am sincerely hoping that the dream comes through.

2019 - A fresh start!

2019-01-09T12:19:00.001+05:30

It has been a long time since I blogged. I was either busy, lazy or did not want to blog. Whatever it might be, I did not write for a long time. Now, suddenly I felt that I should start blogging again in 2019 so that I keep tab of some of the crazy things that I do, and I started off with this.

New Year's is a time for resolutions. I make my personal goals/ resolutions each year. I have been doing this for my sake for the last 4 years now. And this year is not going to be new. Some of the things will not change from the list as well. But what has helped me most is to bucket these goals into broad categories that almost becomes a lifelong framework. These are generic and applicable to all. You can make lists within each category and track them.

So, here you go - these are my goal categories:

1. Managing Relationships - Family, friends are important to me. I will de-clutter, and focus only on key relationships.

2. Health & Fitness - I have been blessed with good health, but just like a vehicle, regular servicing and maintenance is must. And therefore, I will focus on building fitness as a good habit. I have started running and exercising.

3. Business Leadership - Focus at the work place to be better everyday. Leadership, at all levels, in all tasks - is a must. I will focus on improving my business leadership in all possible ways.

4. Personal Finances - Though my parents educated me quite a bit on this aspect, I only realized a few years ago that focusing and personal finance planning is very important. And very important is to stay on top of the plan. I also sensed that many of my team members did not have a set plan for them. So, I started educating them as well.

5. Reading & Learning - This should be an ongoing exercise/ goal for every individual all along their lives.

6. Time for passion - Singing/ Music and Traveling is my passion. I will learn classical singing (I have been doing in bits earlier and want to make it consistent). Also, I will make a conscious effort to travel to places on my bucket list, and some offbeat gems.

When I shared this so called framework with some of my work colleagues, they could relate very easily and found it extremely useful. We all have it at the back of our mind, but just don't say it out loud. But I have found it helps when we write these down, or see it in front of our eyes. At least that's what works for me.

Wish you all a very Happy New Year! May all your goals and dreams come true!