Live India, Love Football

There is no magic formula. Every elite athlete knows this, even if the rest of the world keeps looking for one. The path to mastery is not mysterious. It is repetitive, unglamorous, and deeply consistent. It is doing the same thing in training, day after day, having faith that the body is adapting incrementally, invisibly until one day something that once seemed impossible simply... happens. And then, over time, that impossible thing becomes the norm. The examples are everywhere once you start looking. In football, your first touch is chaotic when you start out. But do wall passes every single day and something shifts. Your body begins to automate the movement. One day you receive a ball under pressure, in full stride, and control it without thinking, something your past self would have found hard to believe. In basketball, every early shot feels like a guess. Then comes the hundreds of repetitions, the same form, the same rhythm, day after day, until your muscle memory locks in. You g...

Nine months. That's how long my team and I worked on formalizing the partnership between Dream Sports Foundation and the Premier League. For those who know me well, they'll understand why this one was personal. The Premier League is my favourite sports league, has been for as long as I can remember. I have long admired the work they do in leadership and coach development. And this partnership gave me the privilege of working closely with two people I genuinely respect and appreciate, Reuben Borah and Hrishikesh Shende. The partnership is anchored in three areas: coaching education, competition, and international exposure. But I'm not here to walk you through the MOU. What I want to do is share what came up when I sat with it all after the first stage of deliverables was complete. The kind of reflection that doesn't happen in the post-event debrief but in the quieter moments after on a flight home, over a cup of chai, or just when the noise settles. As always, I made a l...

Friday evening. I’m seated in the front row at Jagran Lakecity University in Bhopal, invited as the Chief Guest for their 13th Foundation Day. To my left: the Founder-Chancellor and his family. To my right: HMG head of sport Aman Solanki  Behind us: rows upon rows of students, parents, and guests. On stage, speeches are underway. Applause comes and goes. And me? I’m not listening. My mind is doing something far louder. It’s racing. ----------  Two thoughts are battling it out in my head. First: mild irritation at my former student, now friend, Aman Solanki. “You couldn’t have warned me this was a big stage? That I might have to actually prepare something?” Second: “What on earth am I going to say when they call my name?” Because here’s the truth, I didn’t come with a prepared speech. Not even a rough outline. Just vibes… which, at that moment, were not helping. ----------  Time starts behaving strangely in these situations. Every minute feels both rushed and stretched. Y...

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...