Makar Sankranti: Timing, Cycles, and What We Can Learn About Progress

Makar Sankranti: Timing, Cycles, and What We Can Learn About Progress “Oh sorry, I need to run! I ordered breakfast for 9 today!” I exclaimed almost mid-sentence, interrupting the story I was telling the yoga teacher, and a minute later I was pedalling fast on the “wrong” side of the small village road. The locals were just about starting their day as I rushed past them. I reached my resort six minutes past nine. Out of breath, I grabbed (not literally!) the first service person I saw and apologetically asked for a few extra minutes to freshen up and change before they served breakfast. He was clearly alarmed by my stressed-out entry and inquired empathetically if I was OK. When I explained the reason for my worry, he grinned, shook his head sideways and said: “Oh, no tension, Ma’am. Take your time. We will serve the breakfast whenever YOU ARE READY.” “Oh dear. That’s right. It’s just breakfast. I am still so much in my ticking-clock mode…” I thought, relaxing my shoulders a bit as I headed to the room to change. Should clock precision define events in life? Or should timing flexibly follow events in life? We have all been culturally conditioned to adopt one of these approaches as our “default”, while the other we apply more occasionally. Have you ever stopped to notice which one is your default? In January, in India, we celebrate Makar Sankranti – unusual among Hindu festivals because it follows the solar calendar rather than the lunar one. It marks the Sun’s transition into Makar (Capricorn) and the gradual return of longer, brighter days after winter. Across India, it is celebrated under different names, with different rituals, foods, and local traditions, but the underlying meaning remains deeply shared. At its heart, Makar Sankranti is a harvest festival, a moment to pause, acknowledge what has been cultivated, and give thanks before turning attention to what is yet to grow. There is no rush in this transition. No sense of urgency to “move on” too quickly. The cycle is respected. This idea of timing runs deep in Indian culture. Progress is not separated from patience. Effort is not detached from rhythm. You don’t rush a harvest just because the calendar says it’s time; you wait until the conditions are right. And this mindset doesn’t stay in the fields. It carries into personal life. I experienced it strongly last year while processing a major life crisis and battling internally to accept that certain things – understanding, clarity, peace, acceptance – can’t be rushed. But they do come, if you patiently tune in to the process. Whenever YOU ARE READY. Not on a predefined, wishful schedule. This perspective naturally carries into business and professional relationships too. For those working with Indian partners, Makar Sankranti offers a powerful reminder: decisions are often shaped more by context and timing than by pressure or speed. Relationships are not a “soft” aspect of work, they are foundational. Trust, alignment, and mutual understanding are not things you accelerate; they are things you build. This can feel counterintuitive in cultures where urgency is praised, and speed is equated with effectiveness. But in cross-cultural collaboration, especially with India, working with the rhythm instead of against it can make the difference between friction and flow. On a more personal note, Makar Sankranti has always been one of my favourite festivals. Perhaps because I’m a Sun-loving Capricorn myself, and perhaps because the symbolism of winter slowly loosening its grip resonates with me every year. There is something deeply hopeful about this moment, not loud hope, but quiet, grounded optimism. So… should clock precision define events in life? Or should timing flexibly follow events in life? Which of these approaches, clock-based or event-based, is your default mode?

The Quiet Work of Living Between Cultures

We often talk about the beauty of living across cultures — the broadened perspectives, the meaningful connections, the once-in-a-lifetime experiences. And all of that is true. But there’s another side to it that doesn’t often make it into pictures or stories. Living between cultures can also be quietly exhausting. Beyond adaptation I spent a few years in Scotland. One thing that confused me endlessly in Aberdeen was the way people said, “You alright?” when passing you in the corridor or at the start of a conversation. The first time someone asked me, I started explaining – “Yes, just a bit tired, didn’t sleep well…” – and they looked surprised. I didn’t realise it was just another way of saying “hello.” Over time, I learned that these small rituals carry emotional codes of their own. That “you alright?” wasn’t a question – it was a way of gently opening the door to connection. I still sometimes over-answer it. But I also smile now when I hear it – a tiny reminder of how complex and fascinating communication can be. Adapting to a different culture isn’t just about learning how people greet each other or what’s considered polite. It’s about attuning yourself to a different emotional code — often one that’s unspoken. It takes: Openness, to notice how people speak and connect. Vulnerability, to express yourself in new ways — linguistically, emotionally, even physically. Courage, to engage with difference — whether that’s being seen as different, or facing a culture that feels deeply unfamiliar. This process is often invisible. But it’s constant. In-between worlds Sometimes, living across cultures means translating your thoughts more than once before speaking.Sometimes, it’s wondering how much of your own cultural heritage to carry with you — and how much space to leave for what’s new. I remember one evening at a pub in Aberdeen, sitting with a group of Scottish classmates. We were all chatting, laughing – but I noticed something: they rarely talked about themselves. Everything was wrapped in humour or deflection. I had grown up with a different kind of openness, where emotions could be named more directly. That night, I shared something a bit personal – nothing dramatic, just a little window into how I was feeling. The conversation went quiet. Not unkind – just… uncertain. Only later did I realise I had crossed an invisible line that evening. It wasn’t about what I said – but how early I said it. There’s a dance to connection in every culture. That night, I learned one of the steps. Living in between often means feeling a bit like an outsider. And that’s hard to explain to people who haven’t experienced it. But here’s the thing: Feeling “in between” isn’t a weakness.It’s a reflection of everything you’re holding, and how deeply you’re navigating. What you gain There’s a quiet kind of power that comes from cross-cultural living.It can make you more perceptive. More grounded. More attuned to nuance. It’s not always easy — but it’s incredibly rewarding. Because when you live between cultures, you start to notice what connects people. You understand multiple realities. And you gain the ability to choose what you carry forward — and what you let go. That’s not just cultural intelligence.That’s human wisdom. Let’s keep the conversation going If this resonates with you, I’d love to hear your story.Let’s keep talking — about the joys and the challenges of life across cultures.

3 Things People Often Misunderstand About Indian Workplace Culture

by Klaudia Fryc-Mallick When collaborating across cultures, misunderstandings aren’t just possible — they’re inevitable. But some of them are predictable, and with the right insight, preventable. Indian workplace culture is rich, dynamic, and often misunderstood, especially by professionals coming from more individualistic or low-context cultures. Here are three common misconceptions — and what to understand instead. 1. “They’re not being clear.”The misunderstanding:Many Western professionals perceive Indian colleagues as vague or evasive, especially when it comes to saying “no,” expressing concerns, or offering feedback. The reality:In many Indian professional settings, communication is context-rich and relational. Directness can be seen as impolite or confrontational. Rather than saying “no” outright, colleagues might say “we’ll try,” or “let’s see,” especially if the request comes from someone in a position of authority. What to do:Learn to read between the lines — and create space for clarity. Instead of yes/no questions, ask open-ended ones. Build trust first. Clarity often follows connection. 2. “They don’t care about deadlines.”The misunderstanding:Missed deadlines or last-minute changes may be interpreted as a lack of professionalism or accountability. The reality:Indian work environments often emphasize flexibility and responsiveness over rigid scheduling. Many teams juggle complex hierarchies, shared responsibilities, and evolving priorities. The commitment is real, but the timeline may be fluid. What to do:Don’t assume lack of care. Instead, co-create timelines, confirm expectations regularly, and allow for check-ins. When possible, factor in buffer time, and clarify what’s truly non-negotiable. 3. “They’re uncomfortable with feedback.”The misunderstanding:European or North American colleagues may struggle with how to give or receive feedback with Indian teams. There’s a fear of offending — or of not being honest enough. The reality:Feedback is deeply relational in Indian culture. It’s not just about what you say, but how — and when — you say it. Negative feedback, especially in group settings or over email, can risk shame or loss of face. But when approached with care, it’s welcomed and respected. What to do:Follow the #HPSP rule: Hard on the Problem, Soft on the Person. Be clear and specific about the issue, and gentle and respectful in tone. One-on-one settings work best. And don’t forget to offer reinforcing feedback too — praise goes a long way. Understanding workplace culture isn’t about mastering a list of dos and don’ts — it’s about noticing your assumptions, staying curious, and practicing empathy. If you’re navigating collaboration with Indian teams — or just want to strengthen your cultural intelligence — download the Masala@Work Preview. It’s full of real-world examples and actionable insights to help you connect more meaningfully across borders.  Get your copy here