Hiren Deliwala
By Hiren Deliwala
“The Advice Monster is insatiable. It confuses control with certainty, and certainty with safety.” – Michael Bungay Stanier
I have a confession to make — I am an advice factory. And most of the time, my advice sounds like complete bakwaas to others. But let’s be honest — I’m not alone in this. Giving unsolicited advice is practically a national pastime for Indians.
Whether it’s about health, fitness, parenting, careers, how to fix hair, wrinkles, back pain, or even how to breathe properly (“Beta, pet se saans lo!”), we always have an opinion. And we don’t just keep it to ourselves — we distribute our bakwaas freely, like Diwali sweets.
Advice: The Gift No One Wants
Most of the time, our bakwaas is aimed at family, especially our kids. Poor souls, one minute they’re just venting about school or work, and before they know it, we’ve turned it into a full-blown TED Talk.
The moment someone shares a problem, our brains tend to go into superhero mode — Dun Dun Daaa! I must save the day! We dig through our mental database (which, let’s be honest, includes last night’s WhatsApp forwards) and launch into a motivational speech about how we lost weight in 20 days or how Sharmaji ka beta became a NASA scientist at 15.
And of course, no Indian conversation is complete without a filmy touch. As the great Paresh Rawal once said in the film, Hera Pheri: “Ye Bakwaas Band Kar!” (Shut this nonsense down!)
But do we? Nope. Our bakwaas engine has no brakes.
My Own Unstoppable Gyaan
My family constantly reminds me that I am a grandmaster of advice. I can go on for hours about anything: finance, technology, relationships, the best way to make chai — you name it. It took me years to understand that my kids don’t always want solutions; they just want someone to listen. But old habits die hard, and before I know it, I’m back in my default mode: Bakwaas Unlimited—Now Streaming 24/7!
When You’re Trapped Listening to Bakwaas
Of course, I’m not just a giver, I’ve also been a victim of this advice pandemic. Out of respect (or sheer helplessness), I have sat through conversations that made my soul want to run away.
Ever been trapped in a 40-minute monologue on why turmeric is the secret to eternal youth? I have. Ever wanted to escape an uncle’s career advice that hasn’t been updated since 1985? Same here.
Michael Bungay Stanier perfectly describes this suffering, “Your advice is not as good as you think it is. Your Advice Monster is luring you into self-deception.”
But do we stop? Nope. We package our old advice in new words and keep the bakwaas flowing.
What If We Just… Listened?
Here’s a radical thought. What if we stopped talking for a second and actually listened? What if, instead of instantly jumping in with a lecture, we asked, “Do you want advice, or do you just want me to listen?”
I’ve tried this a few times, and — surprise! — it actually works. People feel heard, and I feel less guilty about ruining someone’s day with my gyaan. But even as I try to hold back, my brain is in overdrive, desperate to jump in and “fix” their problem.
When Does Advice Actually Make Sense?
Let’s be real — sometimes advice is useful. But here’s when it actually makes sense:
1. Only give advice when asked. If someone genuinely wants your opinion, great. Otherwise, zip it.
2. Be like an Indian mom. Offer advice when necessary but with love. Moms have the superpower of knowing exactly when to step in. The key is to offer it gently, not as a full-blown lecture.
We often justify our unsolicited advice by saying, “Beta, I am doing this for your own benefit.” But let’s be honest, half the time, we just like hearing ourselves talk.
So, the next time we feel the urge to unleash our bakwaas, let’s pause and ask: Is this advice actually helpful, or am I just running my own radio show — FM Bakwaas 100.1?
Hiren Deliwala currently serves as the Leader of Solutions Architecture for the Worldwide Public Sector at Amazon Web Services (AWS). He received his MBA from UNC Chapel Hill. Contact: [email protected]
