✍️ The Sambar Debug

✍️ The Sambar Debug

Ever notice how the smallest acts make the biggest difference?
This came to me while eating my amma’s sambar,
thinking about the quiet work we all do.

Some people call it “just sambar.”
I see it differently.

Because that sambar didn’t just appear.

It had:
Potato. Carrot. Tomato. Drumstick. Brinjal. Banana.
Ladyfinger. Dal. Onion. Green chilli. Curry leaves.
And one thing no one mentions — Amma’s quiet care.


She chopped. She waited.
She adjusted the salt. Tasted once.
Then added a pinch of something without telling anyone.
Because she knows who’ll eat it.

That’s not just cooking.
That’s awareness.
That’s consistency.
That’s love without announcing itself.

And I suddenly felt:
Maybe my work is like that too.
Maybe yours is.

You help a teammate.
You fix something small no one saw go wrong.
You hold the balance quietly—without being asked, or thanked.

That’s sambar.
It doesn’t stand alone.
But it makes everything feel better.

So today, if you’ve done something quietly—
for your team, your family, your people…

You’ve made the sambar.

Someone will feel it.
Maybe not today.
But it’s already there.

You’re not invisible.
You’re just working like sambar does—
quiet, steady, essential.


From
— Lekshmana
(Just writing from what I felt.)

Let’s celebrate the quiet wins!

🔹 Building in a Way That Lasts Without You

Building strong, together. This is how we make things last.

Some people say, “Be so good they can’t ignore you.
That’s fine. But some of us live by something else:

“Be so open, they don’t need to depend only on you.”

I don’t want to be the only one who holds the answer.
I want to be part of something that runs well—even when I’m not around.

Sometimes that means writing one extra note in the code.
Sometimes it means letting someone else handle a tough call, even if I could do it faster.
This approach often means trading immediate speed for long-term resilience.
It’s a conscious decision, especially in critical moments, to grow others—even if it adds a little time.

Sometimes, it’s just quietly teaching the same thing again—and again—until someone else gets it.

That’s not stepping back. That’s building forward.
It doesn’t mean avoiding responsibility—it means sharing it in a way that others grow.

This kind of “building” isn’t about being hands-off.
It actually takes more effort—writing things clearly, creating good systems, coaching people patiently.

And no, it’s not always perfect.
There are days I forget to document.
There are moments I want to just finish it myself—because it’s easier.

But I remind myself:
If only I can do it, I haven’t really built it yet.

🌱 What I try to do:

  • Share context, not just tasks.
  • Teach slowly, even when I’m in a rush.
  • Write things others can pick up.
  • Step away without everything falling.
  • Support those stepping up with room to learn.

It also means creating space where others can point out what’s breaking, or what needs rethinking—even if I was the one who started it.

This applies outside work too.
At home, I try to involve others.
Let someone else lead.
Let kids learn by trying.
Let systems breathe without me at the center.

It’s not about disappearing.
It’s about making sure nothing disappears because of me.

This isn’t about being humble for praise.
It’s about keeping what we build alive—through others.

🧭 Like Pi, good systems don’t need every digit to be perfect.
They just need enough people who care to continue it.
One digit joins. Another follows.

That’s how it grows.


Build something that continues—even if your name isn’t mentioned.
Teach someone in a way that they forget you were the one who taught it.
If it grows through others, it means you did it right.
That’s the kind of legacy I care about.

– from me,
Lekshmana

Who I am-

Some days, you show up as a mentor.
Some days, you question everything.
Some days, you lead.
Some days, you sit silently and reflect on the people who helped you rise.

The last few days, I’ve been thinking a lot about who I am—
Not in a resume format, but as a whole person.

I come from a village where I struggled to understand English.
Today, I mentor young engineers and help lead global-scale software delivery.
The journey? It’s been anything but straight.

My earliest confidence didn’t come from tech.
It came from math.
Solving problems gave me clarity before I had language for it.
That same mindset helped me later learn code, systems, and leadership.

I didn’t start with confidence. I earned it.
I didn’t know how to code. I learned by doing, breaking, and rebuilding.
I didn’t plan to lead a team. But I showed up every day, listened, failed, learned—and kept going.

Somewhere between code reviews and mentoring calls, I realized:
Leadership isn’t about having all the answers.
It’s about being available, being real, and being willing to evolve.

If you’re on a path that still feels unclear, trust me—
You’re not behind.

You’re just becoming.

Let’s keep growing. Together.
#PersonalGrowth #Leadership #EngineeringLife #Mentorship