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?