Tom Hardy’s performance in MobLand is a masterclass in controlled intensity. As Harry Da Souza, the fixer for the powerful Harrigan crime family, Hardy brings a quiet menace that makes every scene compelling. His character is neither a mindless enforcer nor a sentimental antihero—he is a pragmatic problem solver who operates in the gray areas of loyalty and violence. The show, created by Ronan Bennett and directed in part by Guy Ritchie, leans into Hardy’s ability to dominate a scene without overacting. His dialogue is sparse but impactful, often delivered in a low, measured tone that makes threats sound like casual conversation. This restraint works well in a series where tension simmers beneath every interaction, and Hardy’s presence ensures that even the quieter moments feel charged with danger.

MobLand is structured to keep viewers hooked with relentless pacing and frequent cliffhangers. Each episode ends on a revelation or escalation that demands immediate follow-up, making it a binge-worthy experience. The central conflict revolves around the Harrigans, led by Conrad (Pierce Brosnan) and Maeve (Helen Mirren), and their rivals, the Stevensons. When Conrad’s reckless grandson Eddie (Anson Boon) triggers a violent feud, Hardy’s Harry is tasked with damage control. The writing avoids unnecessary exposition, trusting the audience to piece together alliances and betrayals through sharp dialogue and well-timed flashbacks. The show’s structure, with its tight episodic arcs and overarching tension, suggests a careful optimization for streaming audiences who prefer serialized storytelling over standalone episodes.

Pierce Brosnan and Helen Mirren deliver standout performances, adding depth to what could have been stereotypical mob boss roles. Brosnan’s Conrad is a volatile patriarch whose charm masks a ruthless streak, while Mirren’s Maeve is the true power behind the throne, manipulating events with calculated precision. Their dynamic elevates the series beyond typical gangster tropes, offering a mix of dark humor and psychological intrigue. The supporting cast, including Paddy Considine and Joanne Froggatt, further enriches the narrative, ensuring that even secondary characters feel fully realized. The production design and cinematography enhance the gritty realism of London’s criminal underworld, balancing glamour and brutality in a way that feels authentic.

For fans of crime dramas, MobLand is a strong addition to the genre. It doesn’t reinvent the wheel, but it executes familiar elements with precision, thanks to Hardy’s magnetic performance and Ritchie’s stylistic direction. The show’s pacing, combined with its high-stakes narrative, makes it an engaging watch, though it occasionally relies too heavily on established tropes. Still, the strength of the cast and the sharp writing ensure that it stands out in a crowded field. If you’re looking for a well-acted, suspenseful series with a noirish edge, MobLand is worth the time.

Life becomes easier when you stop forcing it. The best outcomes—whether in work, relationships, or health—come from stacking actions around your strengths rather than struggling against weaknesses. A simple life is not about doing less but about doing what aligns naturally. Start by protecting two hours of sane time in the morning. Use them to swim, read, or think through first principles. This creates a foundation where everything else stacks neatly. When you build from a place of clarity, things accumulate without effort. No amount of pushing will make a workout routine stick if it feels like punishment. No relationship thrives under forced attention. Growth happens when actions feel like extensions of who you are, not obligations.

First principles cut through noise. Instead of following trends or copying routines, ask why something matters. Why exercise? To feel strong, not to mimic an ideal. Why read? To understand, not to collect knowledge. Why work? To create, not just to produce. When you anchor actions in their core purpose, they integrate smoothly into your day. A swim is not just movement but a reset for the mind. Reading is not just consumption but a way to refine thinking. Applying first principles removes unnecessary complexity. What remains is a sequence of actions that feel natural, almost inevitable. The less you fight against your own rhythms, the more life aligns without force.

Minimalism is often misunderstood as deprivation. It is not about having less but about removing what distracts from what matters. A cluttered schedule drains energy; a focused one builds it. The same applies to possessions, relationships, and goals. Keep only what serves a clear purpose. Everything else is noise. When you reduce decisions—what to wear, what to eat, what to prioritize—you free mental space for what truly requires attention. A workout becomes automatic if it’s tied to an existing habit. Relationships deepen when interactions are intentional, not obligatory. Work improves when it flows from natural strengths rather than artificial demands.

Life stacks beautifully when you let it. Forcing growth in fitness, career, or personal connections rarely works. Instead, create conditions where progress happens on its own. Protect the morning hours for sanity. Build routines around what already feels right. Remove what doesn’t belong. The result is a life that feels effortless not because it is easy, but because it fits. No amount of struggle can replace the quiet efficiency of alignment. A minimal life is not empty. It is full of what matters.

Around five years ago, Indian banks introduced two charges that have since become a significant burden for customers—ATM usage fees and Minimum Average Balance (MAB) penalties. These fees disproportionately affect those at the bottom of the banking pyramid, often the less financially literate or those with limited access to digital banking. While banks argue that these charges help cover operational costs, the numbers tell a different story. Estimates suggest that cumulative ATM usage fees generate around ₹8,000 crore annually, while MAB-related penalties contribute approximately ₹21,000 crore. Combined, this amounts to nearly $3.3 billion in revenue for banks — a figure that raises questions about fairness, especially in light of the recent 10% increase in ATM withdrawal fees.

The Minimum Average Balance requirement forces customers to maintain a certain amount in their accounts or face penalties. For many, this is an unnecessary hurdle, particularly for low-income individuals who may struggle to keep a consistent balance. The penalties, though seemingly small per account, add up to billions at a systemic level. Similarly, ATM usage fees—imposed after a limited number of free transactions—disproportionately impact those who rely on cash due to limited digital access. While digital transactions are rising, cash remains essential for daily wage workers, small vendors, and rural populations. The irony is that these fees extract the most from those who can least afford them.

Banks justify these charges as necessary to offset infrastructure and maintenance costs. However, the profitability of these fees suggests otherwise. The ₹29,000 crore generated annually from these two charges alone is a substantial revenue stream, one that is effectively subsidized by the most vulnerable customers. In contrast, high-net-worth individuals and corporate clients often enjoy fee waivers and premium services. This disparity highlights an imbalance in how banking costs are distributed. While financial institutions must remain viable, the question is whether profitability should come at the expense of financial inclusion.

The broader implication is that banking, which should ideally empower all customers, often functions as a regressive system where the poor pay more. A customer with a low balance may end up losing a significant portion of their savings in penalties, while someone with higher liquidity faces no such deductions. The recent hike in ATM fees only exacerbates this issue. If the goal of banking is to serve the economy at large, then these charges need reevaluation. Transparency in how fees are calculated and a reassessment of who bears the cost would be a step toward fairer banking practices. For now, it’s worth asking—how much is your bank making from your account?

The time it takes to build software is compressing, thanks to AI and better tooling. This means the most valuable hours of the day should be spent on the highest-leverage activity—writing code. For me, that means blocking the first chunk of the day, starting at 8:30 AM, exclusively for shipping features, debugging, or refining architecture. Once that’s done, other tasks—like writing emails, pitching investors, or handling stakeholder communication—can follow. The reasoning is simple: code directly impacts the product, while most other tasks are secondary. If the product isn’t moving forward, nothing else matters.

One may fall into the trap of starting their day with reactive work—clearing inboxes, responding to messages, or attending early meetings. The problem is that these tasks drain mental energy without moving the needle. Writing code requires deep focus, and the best time for that is when the mind is fresh. By deferring communication to later in the day, I ensure that the most important work gets done first. This isn’t about ignoring stakeholders but about recognizing that a functional product is the best pitch.

There’s another advantage to this approach: momentum. Shipping code early creates a sense of progress, which makes handling administrative tasks later feel less burdensome. The psychological shift is significant—instead of ending the day wondering if meaningful work got done, there’s tangible output. This also aligns with how creativity and problem-solving work; the brain is sharper in the morning. By reserving that time for coding, the quality of work improves, reducing the need for revisions or debugging later.

Some might argue that stakeholder communication is equally urgent, but urgency doesn’t always align with importance. Early-stage investors, for example, expect execution above all else. A concise update with real progress is more valuable than a lengthy email with little to show. The same applies to internal communication—teams benefit more from a working feature than a status update. The key is to structure the day so that the highest-impact work happens when cognitive resources are at their peak. Everything else can wait.

The money earned from a salary and the money earned from building a business are fundamentally different. When I worked in banking, my paycheck was predictable and bonus was a cherry on top. There was security in that, but also a distance from the real challenges of creating something from nothing. The money I earned while building Exambazaar, on the other hand, came with uncertainty, effort, and a deeper understanding of what it means to generate value. That difference in origin changes how you perceive money, how you spend it, and how you value it.

Building a business teaches lessons that a salaried job probably do not. Every dollar earned through a startup is tied to solving a problem, convincing a customer, or optimizing an inefficient process. There is no guaranteed outcome, no safety net. This forces you to think differently—about risk, about resource allocation, about persistence. The humility that comes from facing repeated rejections, from seeing how easily things can fail, and from realizing how much you don’t know, is something that a steady paycheck does not instill. Salary money feels deserved in a transactional way; business money feels earned in a much deeper sense.

The personal growth that comes from building something is also different. A salaried role, especially in structured industries like banking, often narrows your focus. You become good at a specific function, but the broader perspective—how different parts of a business interact, how cash flow really works, how decisions impact survival—is missing. When you’re responsible for an entire business, you have no choice but to engage with all of it. You become more well-rounded, more adaptable, and more aware of your own limitations. That awareness keeps you grounded in a way that corporate hierarchies rarely do.

Looking back, the money I earned from Exambazaar teaches more to me than the money I drew from banking, not because of the amount, but because of what it represents. It’s a reflection of problems solved, risks taken, and lessons learned. Salary money sustains you, but business money changes you. It forces you to confront reality, to adapt, and to grow in ways that comfortable paychecks never will. That difference is why not all money is equal.

Passion is often seen as the driving force behind outcomes, but it can also become a burden when tied too closely to identity. When passion turns into ego, it clouds judgment, making it harder to adapt or change course. The idea of letting go of passion does not mean abandoning what you care about, but rather detaching from the emotional weight that comes with it. By observing your thoughts and interests from a distance, you can make decisions based on rationality rather than attachment. This shift allows for clearer thinking and reduces the fear of failure, since outcomes are no longer tied to self-worth.

The concept of flow—where ideas and actions come naturally without forced effort—is more sustainable than relying on passion alone. Passion can be fleeting, often driven by external validation or past investments, while flow is about engaging with the present moment. When you stop clinging to passion as a defining trait, you open yourself to new opportunities that may have otherwise been dismissed. The right decision is often the one made with available information, not the one that aligns with a preconceived notion of what you "should" be doing. Letting go of passion as an identity marker makes it easier to pivot when necessary.

Many people struggle with the idea of stepping away from something they once loved because it feels like admitting defeat. However, interests evolve, and what once brought joy may no longer serve the same purpose. Holding onto passion out of obligation leads to stagnation, while releasing it creates space for growth. The key is to act based on current circumstances rather than past commitments. This approach removes unnecessary emotional friction, allowing for more objective choices. Doing the right thing becomes simpler when it is not weighed down by the need to preserve an old version of yourself.

In the end, passion is just one of many tools for navigating life, not a requirement for fulfillment. Treating it as a temporary state rather than a permanent identity makes it easier to move forward without regret. The goal is not to eliminate passion but to prevent it from becoming an obstacle. By focusing on the flow of ideas and actions, decisions become more intentional and less emotionally charged. The right path is often the one taken with clarity, not the one dictated by an outdated sense of what you once believed you were meant to do.

It’s easy to lose touch with people over the years, even those you once shared close bonds with. Life moves forward, priorities shift, and before you realize it, years have passed without a conversation. That’s what happened with Nikhil Hooda, my wing mate from IIT Bombay. We were in the same hostel, playing football, frisbee, or watching stuff together. Nikhil was—and still is—one of the smartest people I’ve known, especially when it comes to computer science. His ability to break down complex problems into simple, logical steps was something I always admired. Yet, despite the shared experiences, we drifted apart after graduation, as careers and personal commitments took precedence.

Recently, we reconnected after a long gap. The conversation picked up almost effortlessly, as if no time had passed. There’s a certain comfort in talking to someone who knew you during a formative phase of life. We exchanged updates—work, life, and the inevitable reflections on how much has changed. Nikhil shared that he and his wife were blessed with a baby girl, Vidya, a year ago. It was heartening to hear; parenthood suits him, and I hope Vidya grows up with the same sharp intellect and kindness that define her father. Moments like these make you realize how much can happen in the span of a few years, even when you’re not actively part of each other’s daily lives.

Reconnecting with old friends isn’t just about catching up on missed events—it’s also a reminder of shared history. Talking to Nikhil brought back memories of last-minute exam preparations, and the kind of camaraderie that forms when you’re navigating the quirks of IIT together. Those experiences shape who you become, and revisiting them, even briefly, reinforces how far you’ve come. It’s interesting how some people leave a lasting impression, not just through their achievements but through their way of thinking. Nikhil’s analytical approach to problems influenced how I tackle challenges even today, and I hadn’t fully acknowledged that until we spoke again.

These calls are rare but meaningful. In a world where maintaining connections often takes a backseat to immediate demands, taking the time to reconnect can be unexpectedly rewarding. It doesn’t require grand gestures—just a message, a call, or a meet-up when possible. The conversation with Nikhil was a reminder of how relationships, even those that fade over time, hold value. They’re markers of where you’ve been and, in some ways, who you are. Here’s to more such catch-ups, and to Vidya—may her journey be as remarkable as her father’s.

Game addiction is not just about willpower—it’s rooted in how our brains respond to rewards. Mobile games, even those with average graphics or unrealistic mechanics, can become highly addictive because they exploit the brain’s dopamine system. Dopamine is a neurotransmitter linked to pleasure and motivation, and games are designed to trigger its release in controlled, repetitive cycles. Every time you complete a level, earn a reward, or get a surprise loot box, your brain receives a small dopamine hit. This reinforcement keeps you engaged, pushing you to play just a little longer, even when you know you should stop.

The most effective games use variable reward schedules, a concept borrowed from behavioral psychology. Unlike predictable rewards, which become monotonous, unexpected rewards create a stronger compulsion to keep playing. Slot machines use this principle—players pull the lever repeatedly because they don’t know when the next win will come. Similarly, mobile games employ randomized rewards, such as random loot drops or surprise bonuses, to maintain engagement. The uncertainty makes the brain anticipate a possible reward, leading to prolonged play sessions. This is why even simple games with minimal depth can become addictive if the reward loop is well-tuned.

Another factor is the illusion of progress. Games often use progress bars, level-ups, and incremental unlocks to give players a sense of achievement. These small wins create a steady stream of dopamine, reinforcing the behavior. Even if the actual gameplay is repetitive, the feeling of moving forward keeps players hooked. Many games also incorporate social elements, like leaderboards or cooperative challenges, which add peer pressure and competition into the mix. The combination of psychological triggers—variable rewards, progress mechanics, and social validation—makes disengaging difficult, even when the game itself offers little real-world value.

Understanding these mechanisms can help in managing game addiction. Since the brain responds strongly to unpredictable rewards, setting strict time limits or avoiding games that rely heavily on randomized rewards can reduce compulsive play. Awareness of these design tactics allows players to make more conscious choices about their gaming habits. While games can be entertaining and even beneficial in moderation, their addictive potential lies in how effectively they manipulate our brain’s reward system. Recognizing this can help maintain a healthier balance between gaming and other aspects of life.

There is a simple yet effective method to tackle problems and tasks—writing them down in clear, concise bullet points. The act of breaking down a problem into smaller components forces clarity. When a problem exists only in the mind, it often feels overwhelming, a tangled mess of dependencies and unknowns. But when transferred to paper or a digital notepad, it becomes manageable. Each bullet point acts as a distinct sub-problem, a checkpoint that can be addressed individually. This approach works regardless of the problem’s complexity, whether it’s debugging code, planning a trip, or structuring a business proposal. The key is in the decomposition—seeing the whole as a sum of solvable parts rather than an insurmountable whole.

A notebook or a notepad app serves as an external extension of thought. The brain is excellent at generating ideas but poor at holding them all at once. Writing them down offloads cognitive load, freeing mental space for actual problem-solving rather than retention. Desktop notepad apps offer an added advantage—easy reorganization. A bullet point can be dragged up or down, merged, split, or deleted without the mess of scribbles on paper. This flexibility allows for dynamic restructuring, making it easier to refine the approach as new information emerges. The process is iterative: write, rearrange, solve, repeat. Over time, this method not only speeds up execution but also reduces the mental fatigue associated with juggling multiple thoughts.

The difference between solving a problem in the head versus on paper is stark. Mental problem-solving often leads to circular thinking—revisiting the same points without progress. Writing forces linearity. Each bullet point demands attention, ensuring no aspect is glossed over. It also exposes gaps in understanding. If a step cannot be clearly defined, it indicates missing knowledge or an ill-defined problem. This clarity alone saves hours of wasted effort. Additionally, the act of crossing out completed tasks provides a psychological reward, reinforcing progress. The more problems are broken down this way, the more natural it becomes, turning chaotic thought processes into structured workflows.

This method is not revolutionary, yet it is underutilized. Many rely on memory or vague mental outlines, leading to inefficiency. The discipline of writing things down—whether in a notebook or a digital tool—creates a tangible record of thought. It eliminates ambiguity, accelerates execution, and reduces errors. The best part is its universality. It works for coding, writing, planning, learning, or even daily chores. The next time a problem feels too large, the solution is simple: break it down, write it down, and solve it one bullet point at a time.

Movement is one of the most underrated forms of medicine. The human body is designed to move, and when it doesn’t, it deteriorates. Regular physical activity—whether it’s running, lifting weights, or even a short stretching session—plays a crucial role in maintaining physical and mental health. A sedentary lifestyle leads to stiffness, reduced mobility, and a higher risk of chronic conditions. In contrast, even small amounts of movement can improve circulation, enhance joint flexibility, and release endorphins that elevate mood. The key is consistency rather than intensity. A daily walk, a few minutes of stretching, or a brief workout can make a significant difference in how you feel and function.

The benefits of movement extend beyond physical health. Mental clarity, stress reduction, and improved sleep are all linked to regular activity. When you move, your brain receives more oxygen, which sharpens focus and cognitive function. Exercise also triggers the release of neurotransmitters like serotonin and dopamine, which help regulate mood and reduce anxiety. You don’t need to train like an athlete to experience these effects. Simple activities like taking the stairs, walking during phone calls, or doing a short yoga routine can integrate movement seamlessly into your day. The goal is to avoid prolonged stillness and keep the body in motion as much as possible.

Stretching is often overlooked but is one of the most accessible forms of movement. A five-minute stretch in the morning or evening can alleviate muscle tension, improve posture, and increase blood flow. Many people underestimate how much stiffness accumulates from sitting for long hours, whether at a desk or during commutes. Incorporating basic stretches for the neck, shoulders, hips, and legs can prevent discomfort and enhance mobility. Stretching also serves as a mental reset, providing a brief pause in the day to reconnect with your body. It doesn’t require equipment or a gym membership—just a small commitment to self-care.

The philosophy of movement as medicine is about sustainability, not extremes. You don’t need to push yourself to exhaustion to reap the benefits. Instead, focus on integrating movement into your routine in a way that feels manageable. A short run, a few bodyweight exercises, or even a dance session in your living room can keep your body functioning optimally. The more you move, the better your body adapts, and the easier it becomes to maintain an active lifestyle. Be kind to your body—prioritize movement, and it will reward you with strength, resilience, and longevity.