Catching a breath
Sometime ago, I decided to take a pause.
Not because something was wrong. Not because I was unhappy. But because something in me asked for it — quietly, persistently, the way your legs ache after a long run and you just know it’s time to stop. After so many years of running, I needed to catch a breath.
This January, I formally concluded my chapter with PeakXV Partners (formerly Sequoia Capital India & SEA). What a run it’s been.
If you’ve read my earlier post about joining Sequoia, you know I walked in exhausted — physically broken, mentally stretched, searching for a new rhythm after gojek. Sequoia, and then PeakXV, gave me something rare: a front-row seat to an ecosystem bubbling with ideas, energy, and ambition, while also giving me the flexibility to heal.
I have nothing but gratitude. But there comes a time when even gratitude isn’t enough reason to stay. You have to listen to that quieter voice.
The people who made it extraordinary
I’m extremely grateful to Shailendra for bringing me into this journey. The mandate was clear from day one — help portfolio companies build and scale engineering teams, work closely with founders, be useful. Simple in words, enormous in practice.
Working at Surge with Rajan was one of those experiences that recalibrated how I think about early-stage companies. The energy in those rooms — founders pitching not just ideas but their lives, their conviction, their sleepless months — was electric. You can’t be around that and not be changed by it.
And then there were the conversations. Some of the most candid, unfiltered discussions I’ve had in my career happened in the corridors and coffee shops with people like Ravishankar GV and many other leaders at PeakXV. The kind of conversations where you walk in thinking you know something and walk out realising how much more there is to learn. That’s a rare and unique gift. I don’t take it for granted.
To the founders I’ve had the honour of walking alongside — your curiosity, your grit, your relentless pursuit of what’s possible — you inspire more than you know. I’m cheering for every single one of you.
Why pause? Why now?
I’ve been working since I was sixteen. Professionally since twenty-two. That’s decades of building, shipping, fixing, hiring, scaling, advising — decades of waking up with a to-do list that never got shorter. I loved it. Most days, I still love it. But somewhere along the way, the running became the default mode, and I forgot what it felt like to walk.
There’s a difference between choosing to work hard and not knowing how to stop. I was firmly in the second camp.
The truth is, I wasn’t burnt out in the dramatic, collapse-at-your-desk way. It was subtler than that. It was the slow realisation that I’d been so focused on being useful to everyone else that I’d forgotten to be present for the people who matter most — my family, my friends, myself.
Shraddha has been my anchor through every crazy ride. She’s stood alongside me — not behind, alongside — through moves across continents, through late-night calls that bled into early-morning calls, through the times when I was physically home but mentally still in some architecture review. She deserves more than my leftover attention. My kids deserve more than a father who’s always “just finishing one more thing.”
So I decided to stop. Not forever. Just long enough to remember what stillness feels like.
What slowing down actually looks like
I won’t romanticise it. The first few weeks were uncomfortable. When you’ve spent your entire adult life with a packed calendar, an empty one feels almost threatening. I kept reaching for my phone, checking emails that weren’t urgent, looking for fires that didn’t exist.
I started reading without an agenda — picking up books because they looked interesting, not because someone recommended them for “leadership development.” I went for walks that didn’t end in a call. I cooked meals that took two hours because I wanted to, not because I was optimising for anything.
I spent mornings just sitting with my family. Not planning the day, not mentally drafting a response to someone’s Slack message. Just being there. It sounds simple. It’s embarrassingly hard when you’ve forgotten how.
But then something shifted.
The most surprising thing? Ideas started showing up uninvited. When you stop cramming every minute with productivity, your brain does something wonderful — it wanders. And in that wandering, it finds things you’d never have discovered while sprinting.
Not sitting still
I want to be clear: this isn’t retirement. I’m not done. I’m just being more intentional about what I say yes to.
I’m continuing to work with people and teams where I feel I can genuinely help. Most recently, that’s been with Ally — thanks to Mohit — a not-for-profit focused on mental health. Mental health is something deeply personal to me. I’ve seen what happens when high-performing people ignore the signals their body and mind are sending. I was one of those people. If I can help build something that makes even a small difference in how we talk about and support mental health, that matters more to me than any title on a business card.
I’m also advising a few founders, organisations and teams on things I care about — engineering culture, product-market fit, new tech adoption, keeping things simple, the “how not to fail” conversations, and the messy human side of scaling. But I’m doing it at my pace, on my terms. Choosing based on impact, not obligation.
Gratitude, the real kind
There are so many people I want to thank — colleagues, ex-colleagues, friends who somewhere along the way became all three. I know that even if I try very hard, I’ll miss names. So I won’t try. You know who you are, and you know what you’ve meant to this journey.
To the entire PeakXV family — it’s been a privilege. Genuinely. Not the LinkedIn-post kind of “privilege” that people throw around. The real kind, where you look back and think, “I can’t believe I got to be part of that.”
To the ThoughtWorks family that gave me my foundation. To CodeIgnition, which became a big family that still loves each other, and eventually found its way into Gojek. To the Gojek family that tested every limit I had. To every team that trusted me with their problems and their people.
And to my family — my mother who worked tirelessly on both fronts, my siblings who showered unconditional love, Shraddha who made all of this possible, and my kids who remind me every day what actually matters. They’re also my harshest critics — which sometimes leads to unpleasant conversations, but that’s life. As Sadhguru says, “Isn’t it?” hahaha.
What’s next?
Honestly? I don’t know. And for the first time in a very long time, that feels refreshing rather than unsettling. Right now it’s just daily tinkering…
I haven’t mapped out the professional journey ahead. I’m letting curiosity lead for a bit. Meeting interesting people, exploring ideas that spark something, and staying open to whatever comes next. My calendar is friendlier than it’s been in years.
If you’re building something interesting, thinking through a hard problem, or just want to catch up over coffee — I’d love to hear from you.
More to come. For now, this is me saying — thank you, and see you around.