Suhas Thejaswi

I recently came across an essay by Prof. C. Sheshadri on why email destroys his productivity by breaking focus and fragmenting attention: "About students emailing me". It is blunt but uncomfortably relatable. Reading it made me realize that over the last couple of years, I have slowly trained myself into a habit I do not even like.

For years, I have thought about starting a blog—a space to document day-to-day questions that wander in my mind and to reflect about things that I find interesting/relevant today and dismiss as irrelevant tomorrow. I have also wanted to jot down summaries of the books I read. But every time I consider doing it, I end up procrastinating—telling myself I will get to it after I finish this or that deadline. Of coarse, that mythical moment of being "done with deadlines" never seems to arrive. The only constant is the fact that I am never truly free. At some point, I have to admit to myself: if I keep waiting for the perfect, interruption-free time to start anything new, I will be waiting forever. So, I have decided to stop waiting—and just make time for it.

Why do I want to do this? Well, partly because writing helps me think more clearly. Case in point: while writing this very paragraph, I found myself wondering why I even want to write a blog in the first place. I often have vague ideas—about research questions, life, or what is happening in the world—and I can ramble on about them endlessly without ever arriving at a concrete conclusion. But writing forces me to slow down, think deeply, and articulate my thoughts precisely. It helps me channel my inner introvert to question my assumptions, and resist the urge to jump to convenient conclusions. Writing, for me, is a way to challenge myself abount my presumptions, to examine how/why I could be wrong.

Also, I read many books and articles (though not as much as I would like to or once hoped to). Not just research related ones, but also books that help me grow and think beyond research—from fields like (behavioural) economics, behavioural psychology, and (auto)biographies. It is a habit that has shaped me both personally and professionally, often pushing me to question my own thoughts. But, like most people, I am blessed with the human gift of forgetfulness (which, to be fair, probably keeps us all sane). As a result, I tend to forget many things I once thought I understood well. So perhaps this blog can also serve as a kind of personal notebook—a place to capture key takeaways, so I do not have to reread entire books just to recall a few important points. It might also encourage me to take better notes while reading, especially when I come across something meaningful or worth remembering for the future.

Finally, what I write here reflects my personal opinions. Everything I write comes from a specific context—one shaped by my own experiences, the work I do, the life I live and have lived, the air I breathe, the food I eat ... you get the idea. My views may not align with yours, and that is okay. I respect your right to your opinions—just allow me the same courtesy. I will try not to be a radical, so do not expect anything wild. What I am doing is making a promise to myself: to write something meaningful, something I will be proud to share—something I will not regret writing, and will enjoy coming back to read when I am older and, hopefully, wiser.