The single word that
On the difference between a strategy and a sentence that sounds like one
There is a particular kind of deck that fills me with quiet despair. The strategy is beautiful. The insight is real. The platform idea has a name. And then the executions land and you realise nobody asked: what does this actually say to a person at 9am on a Tuesday?
Kashmir and the particular grammar of growing up in a place that doesn't agree on what it is
Language was always political where I grew up. Not in the way people use that word now — meaning contentious, or loaded, or requiring a disclaimer. I mean literally. The language you spoke placed you. Your vocabulary was a declaration. Nobody said this out loud. Everybody knew it.
Why I stopped saying "narrative" in meetings
It became the word people used when they hadn't done the thinking yet. A placeholder for a concept that hadn't arrived. I now say: what does the audience believe before they see this, and what do you want them to believe after?
On croissants, and the things worth doing badly before doing well
The first batch was flat. The second batch was dense. The third batch tasted like regret with butter. By the sixth I understood that laminating dough is a lesson in patience that no strategy document has ever taught me — the layers only separate if you let the whole thing rest.
The comments section as primary research
I have never been in a campaign briefing where someone had read the comments on the brand's last three posts. I have always been that person. The comments tell you what the brand actually means — not what it intends to mean.
What infrastructure companies can learn from the best kebab shop in your neighbourhood
It doesn't advertise. It doesn't have a brand strategy. It has been there for eleven years and everyone knows it. Trust is not built through communication — communication can only reflect trust that already exists. The kebab shop understood this. Most infrastructure brands don't.