Hiren Deliwala
By Hiren Deliwala
You know that feeling when you just have to share your newest, world-changing piece of advice? It’s like you’ve discovered the cure for all of humanity’s ills, and now you must spread the word. Trust me, I get it. After my last piece on Bakwaas (unsolicited advice, for the uninitiated), so many of you messaged me saying, “Yaar, I’ve been that person!” And honestly, we’ve all been there. You read some interesting facts, have a mini epiphany, and suddenly feel the need to inform the world. Because obviously, you’ve figured it all out, and everyone else needs to know, immediately.
But then, disaster strikes. Someone doesn’t listen. And what do we do? Oh, we don’t give up. Oh no. We go full force: speak louder, quote some random research, maybe even throw in some Sanskrit for dramatic effect, and, of course, we top it off with, “Main to tumko bola, ab tumhe karna hai to karo” (I have told you what to do and now it’s up to you). And then, after all that, we leave them with a nice, heavy dose of advice… and a side of guilt for not taking it. Because clearly, we’re right, and they’re wrong, right? Right?
But here’s the real question—who’s actually benefiting here?
Do they care? Do we care about them enough to really know what they need? Is our advice going to change their life, or are we just feeding our own ego by proving that we know better than everyone else? Because let’s face it, sometimes, all we’re doing is stroking our own fragile ego like a pampered cat (I know that from personally taking care of my daughter’s cat). Kitna sweet lag raha hai apna advice (isn’t my advice the best), isn’t it?
Here’s the thing: That advice monster lurking inside us doesn’t just want to be helpful, it wants validation. It wants to scream, “Dekho, how smart am I? I’m the guru here, and if you don’t listen, it’s your loss.” But here’s a tough pill to swallow: If we’re not careful, all that advice is actually less about helping someone and more about showing off how right we are. And guess what? Being too right also comes with its own cost!
Let’s talk about ego for a second. That thing inside us that makes us want to be the smartest person in the room. We throw advice around like confetti, hoping someone will catch it and praise us. The ego thrives on this—the validation that says, “See? I was right. I knew it. Everyone else is a fool. I am the master of all knowledge.” This isn’t just about offering help, it’s about feeding that tiny, fragile creature that we call our “better self” (or should I say, “The emperor of your own advice!”)—that part of us that craves to be always right. And trust me, it’s exhausting. For us and everyone else.
But wait—what if we paused and thought about it differently? What if, instead of obsessing over proving we know better, we took all that advice and turned it inward? What if we focused on changing ourselves? If we could actually live the advice we love to give, maybe just maybe the people around us would feel the shift without us saying a word. It’s like that line from Bollywood movies: “Dil se agar kuch chaha to zaroori nahi ki zabaan se kehna pade.” You don’t have to force it down people’s throats. It can just be.
You see, when we work on ourselves, our actions speak louder than any advice we could possibly give. So, let’s stop trying to shove wisdom down people’s throats like we’re handing out free samosas. Instead, let’s lead by example. Let the light of our own growth shine, and trust me, people will notice. And they won’t feel the pressure to take our advice. They’ll just see us becoming better versions of ourselves, and that might be all the advice they ever need.
Next time the Advice Monster pops up (and trust me, it will), maybe ask yourself: “Is this for them, or is it for my own ego?” Because if you can answer that honestly, maybe you won’t need to give any advice at all. Instead, you’ll just be living it, and that, my friends, is a much brighter, ego-free way to go.
Hiren Deliwala is a Charlotte-based overthinker, closet philosopher, and avid board gamer. He writes about everyday life, Indian upbringing, and finding humor in the chaos. When not philosophizing over chai, he’s usually losing arguments to his wife and, shockingly, learning from them. He once taught his kids the art of strategy games but now can’t seem to beat them, which is both a proud and humbling experience. Contact: hcdeliwala@gmail.com
