Why does one travel? 

Some people travel for entertainment, some for a change, some for a show of prestige, some for exposure. When I look at myself over the years, I realise I have moved from reason to reason, never really understanding why I like to travel. 

Living now in my sixth home in three countries over five years, I believe that travel for me has more to do with people than the place. Looking up at the ceiling in the Pantheon, I wasn’t looking just at the light in the space - I was wondering how the Roman folks built it so long ago. I thought of their determination, of their spirit – of all that is invisible in the remains of their hard work. Gaping at David in Florence, I was thinking of the power of excellence demonstrated by one man. I was thinking of what I can learn from him, of how I must stand my ground as a perfectionist. As I walk through the picturesque pathways of Strasbourg, I think of slums in Mumbai: what decides who deserves an easier life? 

I travel to experience varying priorities: nobody in London stares at you for being well-dressed, while all that matters to a farmer in Mali is whether it will rain well this year. African singer Rokia’s work is deeply affected by military conflict in the country, whereas the French simply cannot do without coffee after lunch. No amount of rain seems to dampen a Mumbaikar’s spirit, but a 1min delay in the London tube upsets everyone. 

Once we are exposed to these extreme priorities, we realise our problems in perspective- the big ones are not as big and the small ones can be smaller. This realization is an education worth a lifetime; certainly worth all reasoning one can gather. Life comes full circle as it dawns on me- this is my work as a design researcher! Travel for perspective, travel to empathise, travel to understand, travel to help. What luck!

Turns out there are no Michelin starred restaurants in India. Not even one. Some people argue that Michelin inspectors have not yet reached India or that they don’t understand Indian cuisine. That’s the typical Indian talking, displaying stubborn faith in their own greatness. Michelin inspectors know what they’re talking about- why else would they award 3-stars to more restaurants in Japan than in France? This is not about east-west distinctions; this is about how food is consumed. Every Michelin starred chef I have heard says the same thing: respect the food, don’t overshadow it; celebrate its original flavour. Marco Pierre White says, “The more you do to food, the more you take away from it.” I don’t remember Indian food this way at all. I only remember spices; dozens piled on vegetables- hiding the vegetables, losing original flavours. Are we eating spices or are we eating vegetables? Can you distinguish between two vegetable curries if the vegetables used are different? I don’t think so. Hot food is different from spicy; and doing something for five thousand years does not make it the right thing to do. Ground conditions today are different from those many centuries ago, and we need a revival. Let’s start with a poached carrot.

I’m such an ageist. How old one is, I have realized, is a very important indicator of the quality & quantity of time I want to give to the relationship. I am certainly losing patience with teenagers – I have no time for arrogance and petty talk. This makes me wonder if people in their 40s today feel the same way about my behaviour. I’m sure they do. Does it matter, and to whom? Ala told me very wisely a long time ago: “When you’re younger, you’re trying to talk about you and what you’ve achieved, but when you get older, you start talking about what’s happening and what’s around. Opinions matter, not achievements.” I understand that now.

“When you come on MasterChef, you come here for a reason: you want to be the next MasterChef. But along the way, you get sidetracked by the people you meet, the experiences you have, the stories you can tell, and the person this competition helps you become.”

Spending time with a friend’s young daughter not only brought back flashes of my childhood but also some food for thought. As I saw the little girl draw a house in her book, I realized she was sketching a building with a steep sloping roof. In middle class India today, not many live in homes with sloping roofs – heck, the girl herself lives in a flat on the sixth floor! I had an uncomfortable thought: is she reconstructing a lesson from memory instead of drawing from what she can see? Are we teaching our children to draw a reconstruction and not what is visible? I find it easier to sketch buildings and geometric shapes because I am reconstructing them from memory; I would struggle to sketch a person sitting in front of me. Are we discouraging learning by observation and encouraging repetition of taught matter? Is this why an architecture student who uses a toilet every day, draws it too small in a submission drawing? This is alarming.

“There are so many similarities in feeling love and sorrow, because it is the peak of what you can possibly feel.”

If you’re a great home cook, where does that figure in your CV? What would a housewife’s CV look like? Would it be a valuable one? There are so many skills to pick up in life, but somehow not all raise your worth when it comes to getting paid. Why is that? I have been spending the last couple of months in the kitchen, with world cuisine exploding in my head, visiting country after country by its food. It has been ridiculously eye opening – I am beginning to understand the power of unique combinations of flavour. And even though it makes me intensely happy, it won’t help me in a job interview as a design strategist. I find it a bit odd. Is personal skill exclusive of work excellence?

Excellence can take you places. Literally. 

It is the eyes. In the one instant that theirs hold yours, one expression changes rapidly into another: from curiosity to raw excitement! The recognition of an Olympic torchbearer in that one instant brings out an uproar first from their eyes, and then from their arms. Sitting in the bus waiting for my turn to carry the flame, I experienced multiple such moments of brilliance: how can one not wave back, especially to the little ones? I could look at me from outside of me: an inspirational figure, an idol. Did I deserve it? Looking around me, I decided I did not. But I began to recognize those who did: sharp and ambitious, warm and humble. Exposure to such company has been the biggest gift of my years in London – and meeting fellow torchbearers has been the highest honour yet.

“Don’t think about problems; think about solutions.” I suppose this has IDE written all over it. Not because we’re always creating solutions, but because we’re always buried knee-deep in problems. If you somehow finally find the wood that is light enough, it is too thin to drill for hinges. If the box is big enough to fit everything inside, it is too big to be carried on the outside. If the bamboo resists steam, it warps too much to hold its shape. If it is easy to mass-produce by injection-moulding, it is unsustainable. If steel is ideal for storage of food, it gets too hot to touch. Each solution presents an additional problem; and we get busy thinking of how to solve the newest one, balancing all its previous solutions. And in one moment of brilliance, solutions interlock and serve up the smartest, simplest design possible. Industrial designers are jugglers – although first timers struggle to hold ground, its fun at the end!

“I wish we had more time when we had the time.”