Live India, Love Football

There’s something about Gujarat. I’ve travelled across India quite a bit now, and every state has its own personality, its own rhythm, flavour, and identity. But Gujarat… Gujarat always feels different. Not just interesting. Personal. ----------  I’m Gujarati. Which is funny, because for most of my life, that identity felt more inherited than experienced. I grew up in Southern California, in a very Gujarati household. My parents spoke Gujarati at home. The food was Gujarati (much to my childhood resistance). Most of the Indian families around us? Also Gujarati. In fact, for a long time, Gujarati culture was my only reference point for India. So naturally, I assumed… that this is what India is. -----------  Then came 2006. My first trip to India. I landed in Delhi. And within hours, that assumption shattered. This wasn’t the India I had grown up around. The language, the energy, the social dynamics, it all felt unfamiliar. Almost like I was discovering India for the first time…...

I’m now in the fourth month of having the blessed opportunity to be Leela’s father, and I continue to notice how deeply parenting mirrors sport. This most recent insight came as a consequence of my travel over the past few weeks. A little context. A few weeks ago, Avantika, Leela, and I flew from Mumbai to Delhi for a wedding. It wasn’t an easy decision. Leela was just two and a half months old and hadn’t travelled beyond the Bombay suburbs. But the people getting married are incredibly dear to us, and so we made the trip. We arrived in Gurgaon, three humans, all in one piece (at least physically). Given that I was going to be travelling on and off for work, we decided that Avantika and Leela would stay on in Delhi with her parents for some time.  Part of me was excited. I hadn’t been on my own in Mumbai for as long as I could remember. There was a sense of freedom waiting to be explored. And yet, there was also a quiet heaviness. A knowing that I would miss out on the daily rhythm...

Time truly is one of the most precious commodities we have. And sometimes, it takes a trip somewhere unexpected to be reminded of that. I was invited to speak to students at the National Sports University in Imphal, Manipur about career opportunities after graduation. I was excited for a couple of reasons. I had never travelled to Manipur before, and my previous experiences in the northeast of India have always been something special. Add to that the fact that I genuinely love every opportunity to speak with young people about building careers they care about, and I was already looking forward to the trip before I even packed a bag. My three-hour interactive session on "How to Create a Dream Career" went well. I went into full self-expression mode and, fortunately, the students responded positively, attentive, curious, and most importantly, engaged. But this post isn't really about the talk. It's about time and hospitality.  Flying from Bombay to Imphal is quite a jou...

I’m now into my third month of fatherhood. And while a big part of me wants to spend this entire post repeating all the clichés about being a girl dad, I’ll try to restrain myself. You know the ones: “There is nothing sweeter than coming home from work and seeing your daughter smile at you.” “Taking care of a newborn is exhausting, but it’s so worth it.” The kind of lines parents tell people who don’t yet have children. And if I’m being honest, when I was on the child-free side of that conversation, I often couldn’t really relate… and sometimes I didn’t particularly care either. (Maybe that was just me.) But since this blog is called Live India, Love Soccer , I feel obligated to connect this reflection to sport somehow. Luckily, I’ve realised something recently: Parenting a newborn has a lot in common with sport. More specifically, it has a lot in common with the strange emotional cycle that keeps people coming back to sports even when they’re bruised, frustrated, and occasionally hum...

(It Hasn’t Changed in 20+ Years) I’ve been working in the sports industry for over two decades now, and there’s one question I’ve been asked consistently, across countries, roles, generations, and formats: “What is the most important skill one needs to succeed in the sports industry?” My answer in the early 2000s was simple: Communication skills. And here we are in 2026 and my answer is still exactly the same. If anything, it has only become more important. The only evolution I’d make today is this: Spoken communication skills. In a world where AI can write emails, decks, proposals, strategies, and even speeches, what truly differentiates people is their ability to express , engage , and connect , in real time, as a human being. I’m talking about: • The ability to clearly articulate an idea, opportunity, or vision • The ability to engage one person or an entire room • The ability to listen deeply, remember what was said, and reflect it back meaningfully • The ability to delive...

A very personal update, with an unexpected connection to sport They say it’s a cliché, but clichés exist for a reason. When I held our daughter in my arms for the first time, I fell in love. That part was expected. What I didn’t expect was what happened after . Over the next few days, every time my wife and I looked at our daughter, we would just… smile. Not the polite, Instagram kind. The kind that comes from somewhere deep inside. A quiet, goofy, uncontrollable smile. As if we had achieved something monumental. As if she was our trophy. And suddenly, without trying, my mind went back to sport. Back to my younger days in the US, playing elite-level football (soccer), lucky enough to be part of a really good club team. We won a few championships back then. And after every win, the trophy would sit proudly in the clubhouse. It wasn’t a particularly fancy object. Some metal. Some engraving. Nothing magical about it on its own. But every time we looked at it, something happened. We felt ...